12 INTRUDER

11 CULT

EACH TIME THAT I OPENED MY EYES TO THE MORNING light and realized I'd lived through another night was a surprise to me. After the surprise wore off, my heart would start to race and my palms would sweat; I couldn't really breathe again until I'd gotten up and ascertained that Charlie had survived as well.

I could tell he was worried–watching me jump at any loud sound, or my face suddenly go white for no reason that he could see. From the questions he asked now and then, he seemed to blame the change on Jacob's continued absence.

The terror that was always foremost in my thoughts usually distracted me from the fact that another week had passed, and Jacob still hadn't called me. But when I was able to concentrate on my normal life–if my life was really ever normal–this upset me.

I missed him horribly.

It had been bad enough to be alone before I was scared silly. Now, more than ever, I yearned for his carefree laugh and his infectious grin. I needed the safe sanity of his homemade garage and his warm hand around my cold fingers.

I'd half expected him to call on Monday. If there had been some progress with Embry, wouldn't he want to report it? I wanted to believe that it was worry for his friend that was occupying all his time, not that he was just giving up on me.

I called him Tuesday, but no one answered. Were the phone lines still having problems? Or had Billy invested in caller I. D.?

On Wednesday I called every half hour until after eleven at night, desperate to hear the warmth of Jacob's voice.

Thursday I sat in my truck in front of my house–with the locks pushed down–keys in hand, for a solid hour. I was arguing with myself, trying to justify a quick trip to La Push, but I couldn't do it.

I knew that Laurent had gone back to Victoria by now. If I went to La Push, I took the chance of leading one of them there. What if they caught up to me when Jake was nearby? As much as it hurt me, I knew it was better for Jacob that he was avoiding me. Safer for him.

It was bad enough that I couldn't figure out a way to keep Charlie safe. Nighttime was the most likely time that they would come looking ior me, and what could I say to get Charlie out of the house? If I told him the truth, he'd have me locked up in a rubber room somewhere. I would have endured that–welcomed it, even–if it could have kept him safe. But Victoria would still come to his house first, looking for me. Maybe, if she found me here, that would be enough for her. Maybe she would just leave when she was done with me.

So I couldn't run away. Even if I could, where would I go? To Renee? I shuddered at the thought of dragging my lethal shadows into my mother's safe, sunny world. I would never endanger her that way.

The worry was eating a hole in my stomach. Soon I would have matching punctures.

That night, Charlie did me another favor and called Harry again to see if the Blacks were out of town. Harry reported that Billy had attended the council meeting Wednesday night, and never mentioned anything about leaving. Charlie warned me not to make a nuisance of myself–Jacob would call when he got around to it.

Friday afternoon, as I drove home from school, it hit me out of the blue.

I wasn't paying attention to the familiar road, letting the sound of the engine deaden my brain and silence the worries, when my subconscious delivered a verdict it must have been working on for some time without my knowledge.

As soon as I thought of it, I felt really stupid for not seeing it sooner. Sure. I'd had a lot on my mind–revenue‑ obsessed vampires, giant mutant wolves, a ragged hole in the center of my chest–but when I laid the evidence out, it was embarrassingly obvious.

Jacob avoiding me. Charlie saying he looked strange, upset. . . . Billy's vague, unhelpful answers.

Holy crow, I knew exactly what was going on with Jacob.

It was Sam Uley. Even my nightmares had been trying to tell me that. Sam had gotten to Jacob. Whatever was happening to the other boys on the reservation had reached out and stolen my friend. He'd been sucked into Sam's cult.

He hadn't given up on me at all, I realized with a rush of feeling.

I let my truck idle in front of my house. What should I do? I weighed the dangers against each other.

If I went looking for Jacob, I risked the chance of Victoria or Laurent finding me with him.

If I didn't go after him, Sam would pull him deeper into his frightening, compulsory gang. Maybe it would be too late if I didn't act soon.

It had been a week, and no vampires had come for me yet. A week was more than enough time for them to have returned, so I must not be a priority. Most likely, as I'd decided before, they would come for me at night. The chances of them following me to La Push were much lower than the chance of losing Jacob to Sam.

It was worth the danger of the secluded forest road. This was no idle visit to see what was going on. I knew what was going on. This was a rescue mission. I was going to talk to Jacob–kidnap him if I had to. I'd once seen a PBS show on deprogramming the brainwashed. There had to be some kind of cure.

I decided I'd better call Charlie first. Maybe whatever was going on down in La Push was something the police should be involved in. I dashed inside, in a hurry to be on my way.

Charlie answered the phone it the station himself.

" Chief Swan. "

" Dad, it's Bella. "

" What's wrong? '"

I couldn't argue with his doomsday assumption this time. My voice was shaking.

" I'm worried about Jacob. "

" Why? " he asked, surprised by the unexpected topic.

" I think… I think something weird is going on down at the reservation. Jacob told me about some strange stuff happening with the other boys his age. Now he's acting the same way and I'm scared. "

" What kind of stuff? " He used his professional, police business voice. That was good; he was taking me seriously.

" First he was scared, and then he was avoiding me, and now… I'm afraid he's part of that bizarre gang down there, Sam's gang. Sam Uley's gang. "

" Sam Uley? " Charlie repeated, surprised again.

" Yes. "

Charlie's voice was more relaxed when he answered. " I think you've got it wrong, Bells. Sam Uley is a great kid. Well, he's a man now. A good son. You should hear Billy talk about him. He's really doing wonders with the youth on the reservation. He's the one who–" Charlie broke off mid‑ sentence, and I guessed that he had been about to make a reference to the night I'd gotten lost in the woods. I moved on quickly.

" Dad, it's not like that. Jacob was scared of him. "

" Did you talk to Billy about this? " He was trying to soothe me now. I'd lost him as soon as I'd mentioned Sam.

" Billy's not concerned. "

" Well, Bella, then I'm sure it's okay. Jacob's a kid; he was probably just messing around. I'm sure he's fine. He can't spend every waking minute with you, after all. "

" This isn't about me, " I insisted, but the battle was lost.

" I don't think you need to worry about this. Let Billy take care of Jacob. "

" Charlie…" My voice was starting to sound whiney.

" Bells, I got a lot on my plate right now. Two tourists have gone missing off a trail outside crescent lake. " There was an anxious edge to his voice. " This wolf problem is getting out of hand. "

I was momentarily distracted–stunned, really–by his news. There was no way the wolves could have survived a match‑ up with Laurent…

" Are you sure that's what happened to them? " I asked.

" Afraid so, honey. There was–" He hesitated. " There were tracks again, and… some blood this time. "

" Oh! " It must not have come to a confrontation, then. Laurent must have simply outrun the wolves, but why? What I'd seen in the meadow just got stranger and stranger–more impossible to understand.

" Look, I really have to go. Don't worry about Jake, Bella. I'm sure it's nothing. "

" Fine, " I said curtly, frustrated as his words reminded me of the more urgent crisis at hand. " Bye. " I hang up.

I stared at the phone for a long minute. What the hell, I decided.

Billy answered after two rings.

" Hello? "

" Hey, Billy, " I almost growled. I tried to sound more friendly as I continued. " Can I talk to Jacob, please? "

" Jake's not here. "

What a shock. " Do you know where he is? "

" He's out with his friends. " Billy's voice was careful.

" Oh yeah? Anyone I know? Quil? " I could tell the words didn't come across as casually as I'd meant them to.

" No, " Billy said slowly. " I don't think he's with Quil today. "

I knew better than to mention Sam's name.

" Embry? " I asked.

Billy seemed happier to answer this one. " Yeah, he's with Embry. "

That was enough for me. Embry was one of them.

" Well, have him call me when he gets in, all right? "

" Sure, sure. No problem. " Click.

" See you soon, Billy, " I muttered into the dead phone.

I drove to La Push determined to wait. I'd sit out front of his house all night if I had to. I'd miss school. The boy was going to have to come home sometime, and when he did, he was going to have to talk to me.

My mind was so preoccupied that the trip I'd been terrified of making seemed to take only a few seconds. Before I was expecting it, the forest began to thin, and I knew I would soon be able to see the first little houses of the reservation.

Walking away, along the left side of the road, was a tall boy with a baseball cap.

My breath caught for just a moment in my throat, hopeful that luck was with me for once, and I'd srumbled across Jacob without hardly trying. But this boy was too wide, and the hair was short under the hat. Even from behind, I was sure it was Quil, though he looked bigger than the last time I'd seen him. What was with these Quileute boys? Were they feeding them experimental growth hormones?

I crossed over to the wrong side of the road to stop next to him. He looked up when the roar of my truck approached.

Quil's expression frightened me more than it surprised me. His face was bleak, brooding, his forehead creased with worry.

" Oh, hey, Bella, " he greeted me dully.

" Hi, Quil… Are you okay? "

He stared at me morosely. " Fine. "

" Can I give you a ride somewhere? " I offered.

" Sure, I guess, " he mumbled. He shuffled around the front of the truck and opened the passenger door to climb in.

" Where to? "

" My house is on the north side, back behind the store, " he told me.

" Have you seen Jacob today. " The question burst from me almost before he'd finished speaking.

I looked at Quil eagerly, waiting for his answer. He stared out the windshield for a second before he spoke. " From a distance, " he finally said.

" A distance? " I echoed.

" I tried to follow them–he was with Embry. " His voice was low, hard to hear over the engine. I leaned closer. " I know they saw me. But they turned and just disappeared into the trees. I don't think they were alone–I think Sam and his crew might have been with them.

" I've been stumbling around in the forest for an hour, yelling for them. I just barely found the road again when you drove up. "

" So Sam did get to him. " The words were a little distorted–my teeth were gritted together.

Quil stared at me. " You know about that.? "

I nodded. " Jake told me… before. "

" Before, " Quil repeated, and sighed.

" Jacob's just as bad as the others now? "

" Never leaves Sam's side. " Quil turned his head and spit out the open window.

" And before that–did he avoid everyone? Was he acting upset? "

His voice was low and rough. " Not for as long as the others. Maybe one day. Then Sam caught up with him. "

" What do you think it is? Drugs or something? "

" I can't see Jacob or Embry getting into anything like that… but what do I know? What else could it be? And why aren't the old people worried? " He shook his head, and the fear showed in his eyes now. " Jacob didn't want to be a part of this… cult. I don't understand what could change him. " He stared at me, his face frightened. " I don't want to be next. "

My eyes mirrored his fear. That was the second time I'd heard it described as a cult. I shivered. " Are your parents any help? "

He grimaced. " Right. My grandfather's on the council with Jacob's dad. Sam Uley is the best thing that ever happened to this place, as far as he's concerned. "

We stared at each other for a prolonged moment. We were in La Push now, and my truck was barely crawling along the empty road. I could see the village's only store not too far ahead.

" I'll get out now, " Quil said. " My house is right over there. " He gestured toward the small wooden rectangle behind the store. I pulled over to the shoulder, and he jumped out.

" I'm going to go wait for Jacob, " I told him in a hard voice.

" Good luck. " He slammed the door and shuffled forward along the road, his head bent forward, his shoulders slumped.

Quil's face haunted me as I made a wide U‑ turn and headed back toward the Blacks'. He was terrified of being next. What was happening here?

I stopped in front of Jacob's house, killing the motor and rolling down the windows. It was stuffy today, no breeze. I put my feet up on the dashboard and settled in to wait.

A movement flashed in my peripheral vision–I turned and spotted Billy looking at me through the front window with a confused expression. I waved once and smiled a tight smile, but stayed where I was.

His eyes narrowed; he let the curtain fall across the glass.

I was prepared to stay as long as it took, but I wished I had something to do. I dug up a pen out of the bottom of my backpack, and an old test. I started to doodle on the back of the scrap.

I'd only had time to scrawl one row of diamonds when there was a sharp tap against my door.

I jumped, looking up, expecting Billy.

" What are you doing here, Bella. '" Jacob growled.

I stared at him in blank astonishment.

Jacob had changed radically in the last weeks since I'd seen him. The first thing I noticed was his hair–his beautiful hair was all gone, cropped quite short, covering his head with an inky gloss like black satin. The planes of his face seemed to have hardened subtly, tightened… aged. His neck and his shoulders were different, too, thicker somehow. His hands, where they gripped the window frame, looked enormous, with the tendons and veins more prominent under the russet skin. But the physical changes were insignificant.

It was his expression that made him almost completely unrecognizable. The open, friendly smile was gone like the hair, the warmth in his dark eyes altered to a brooding resentment that was instantly disturbing. There was a darkness in Jacob now. Like my sun had imploded.

" Jacob? " I whispered.

He just stared at me, his eyes tense and angry.

I realized we weren't alone. Behind him stood four others; all tall and russet‑ skinned, black hair chopped short just like Jacob's. They could have been brothers–I couldn't even pick Embry out of the group. The resemblance was only intensified by the strikingly similar hostility in every pair of eyes.

Every pair but one. The oldest by several years, Sam stood in the very back, his face serene and sure. I had to swallow back the bile that rose in my throat. I wanted to take a swing at him. No, I wanted to do more than that. More than anything, I wanted to be fierce and deadly, someone no one would dare mess with. Someone who would scare Sam Uley silly.

I wanted to be a vampire.

The violent desire caught me off guard and knocked the wind out of me. It was the most forbidden of all wishes–even when I only wished it for a malicious reason like this, to gain an advantage over an enemy–because it was the most painful. That future was lost to me forever, had never really been within my grasp. I scrambled to gain control of myself while the hole in my chest ached hollowly.

" What do you want? " Jacob demanded, his expression growing more resentful as he watched the play of emotion across my face.

" I want to talk to you, " I said in a weak voice. I tried to focus, but I was still reeling against the escape of my taboo dream.

" Go ahead, " he hissed through his teeth. His glare was vicious. I'd never seen him look at anyone like that, least of all me. It hurt with a surprising intensity–a physical pain, a stabbing in my head.

" Alone! " I hissed, and my voice was stronger.

He looked behind him, and I knew where his eyes would go. Every one of them was turned for Sam's reaction.

Sam nodded once, his face unperturbed. He made a brief comment in an unfamiliar, liquid language–I could only be positive that it wasn't French or Spanish, but I guessed that it was Quileute. He turned and walked into Jacob's house. The others, Paul, Jared, and Embry, I assumed, followed him in.

" Okay. " Jacob seemed a bit less furious when the others were gone. His face was a little calmer, but also more hopeless. His mouth seemed permanently pulled down at the corners.

I took a deep breath. " You know what I want to know. "

He didn't answer. He just stared at me bitterly.

I stared back and the silence stretched on. The pain in his face unnerved me. I felt a lump beginning to build in my throat.

" Can we walk? " I asked while I could still speak.

He didn't respond in any way; his face didn't change.

I got out of the car, feeling unseen eyes behind the windows on me, and started walking toward the trees to the north. My feet squished in the damp grass and mud beside the road, and, as that was the only sound, at first I thought he wasn't following me. But when I glanced around, he was right beside me, his feet having somehow found a less noisy path than mine.

I felt better in the fringe of trees, where Sam couldn't possibly be watching. As we walked, I struggled for the right thing to say, but nothing came. I just got more and more angry that Jacob had gotten sucked in… that Billy had allowed this… that Sam was able to stand there so assured and calm…

Jacob suddenly picked up the pace, striding ahead of me easily with his long legs, and then swinging around to face me, planting himself in my path so I would have to stop too.

I was distracted by the overt grace of his movement. Jacob had been nearly as klutzy as me with his never‑ ending growth spurt. When did that changed?

But Jacob didn't give me time to think about it.

" Let's get this over with, " he said in a hard, husky voice.

I waited. He knew what I wanted.

" It's not what you think. " His voice was abruptly weary. " It's not what I thought–I was way off. "

" So what is it, then? "

He studied my face for a long moment, speculating. The anger never completely left his eyes. " I can't tell you, " he finally said.

My jaw tightened, and I spoke through my teeth. " I thought we were friends. "

" We were. " There was a slight emphasis on the past tense.

" But you don't need friends anymore, " I said sourly. " You have Sam. Isn't that nice–you've always looked up to him so much. "

" I didn't understand him before. "

" And now you've seen the light. Hallelujah. "

" It wasn't like I thought it was. This isn't Sam's fault. He's helping me as much as he can. " His voice turned brittle and he looked over my head, past me, rage burning out from his eyes.

" He's helping you, " I repeated dubiously. " Naturally. "

But Jacob didn't seem to be listening. He was taking deep, deliberate breaths, trying to calm himself. He was so mad that his hands were shaking.

" Jacob, please, " I whispered " Won't you tell me what happened? Maybe I can help. "

" No one can help me now. " The words were a low moan; his voice broke.

" What did he do to you? " I demanded, tears collecting in my eyes. I reached out to him, as I had once before, stepping forward with my arms wide.

This time he cringed away, holding his hands up defensively. " Don't touch me, " he whispered.

" Is Sam catching? " I mumbled. The stupid tears had escaped the corners of my eyes. I wiped them away with the back of my hand, and folded my arms across my chest.

" Stop blaming Sam. " The words came out fast, like a reflex. His hands reached up to twist around the hair that was no longer there, and then fell limply at his sides.

" Then who should I blame? " I retorted.

He halfway smiled; it was a bleak, twisted thing.

" You don't want to hear that. "

" The hell I don't! " I snapped. " I want to know, and I want to know now. "

" You're wrong, " he snapped back.

" Don't you dare tell me I'm wrong–I'm not the one who got brainwashed! Tell me now whose fault this all is, if it's not your precious Sam! "

" You asked for it, " he growled at me, eyes glinting hard. " If you want to blame someone, why don't you point your finger at those filthy, reeking bloodsuckers that you love so much? "

My mouth fell open and my breath came out with a whooshing sound. I was frozen in place, stabbed through with his double‑ edged words. The pain twisted in familiar patterns through my body, the jagged hole ripping me open from the inside out, but it was second place, background music to the chaos of my thoughts. I couldn't believe that I'd heard him correctly. There was no trace of indecision in his face. Only fury.

My mouth still hung wide.

" I told you that you didn't want to hear it, " he said.

" I don't understand who you mean, " I whispered.

He raised one eyebrow in disbelief. " I think you understand exactly who I mean. You're not going to make me say it, are you? I don't like hurting you. "

" I don't understand who you mean, " I repeated mechanically.

" The Cullens, " he said slowly, drawing out the word, scrutinizing my face as he spoke it. " I saw that–I can see in your eyes what it does to you when I say their name. "

I shook my head back and forth in denial, trying to clear it at the same time. How did he know this? And how did it have anything to do with Sam's cult? Was it a gang of vampire‑ haters? What was the point of forming such a society when no vampires lived in Forks anymore? Why would Jacob start believing the stories about the Cullens now, when the evidence of them was long gone, never to return?

It took me too long to come up with the correct response. " Don't tell me you're listening to Billy's superstitious nonsense now, " I said with a feeble attempt at mockery.

" He knows more than I gave him credit for. "

" Be serious, Jacob. "

He glared at me, his eyes critical.

" Superstitions aside, " I said quickly. " I still don't see what you're accusing the... Cullens" –wince–" of. They left more than half a year ago. How can you blame them for what Sam is doing now? "

" Sam isn't doing anything, Bella. And I know they're gone. But sometimes… things are set in motion, and then it's too late. "

" What's set in motion? What's too late? What are you blaming them for? "

He was suddenly right in my face, his fury glowing in his eyes. " For existing, " he hissed.

I was surprised and distracted as the warning words came in Edward's voice again, when I wasn't even scared.

" Quiet now, Bella. Don't push him, " Edward cautioned in my ear.

Ever since Edward's name had broken through the careful walls I'd buried it behind, I'd been unable to lock it up again. It didn't hurt now–not during the precious seconds when I could hear his voice.

Jacob was fuming in front of me, quivering with anger.

I didn't understand why the Edward delusion was unexpectedly in my mind. Jacob was livid, but he was Jacob. There was no adrenaline, no danger.

" Give him a chance to calm down, " Edward's voice insisted.

I shook my head in confusion. " You're being ridiculous, " I told them both.

" Fine, " Jacob answered, breathing deeply again. " I won't argue it with you. It doesn't matter anyway, the damage is done. "

" What damage? "

He didn't flinch as I shouted the words in his face.

" Let's head back. There's nothing more to say. "

I gaped. " There's everything more to say! You haven't said anything yet! "

He walked past me, striding back toward the house.

" I ran into Quil today, " I yelled after him.

He paused midstep, but didn't turn.

" You remember your friend, Quil? Yeah, he's terrified. "

Jacob whirled to face me. His expression was pained. " Quil" was all he said.

" He's worried about you, too. He's freaked out. "

Jacob stared past me with desperate eyes.

I goaded him further. " He's frightened that he's next. "

Jacob clutched at a tree for support, his face turning a strange shade of green under the red‑ brown surface. " He won't be next, " Jacob muttered to himself. " He can't be. It's over now. This shouldn't still be happening. Why? Why? " His fist slammed against the tree. It wasn't a big tree, slender and only a few feet taller than Jacob. But it still surprised me when tht trunk gave way and snapped off loudly under his blows.

Jacob stared at the sharp, broken point with shock that quickly turned to horror.

" I have to get back. " He whirled and stalked away so swiftly that I had to jog to keep up.

" Back to Sam! "

" That's one way of looking at it, " it sounded like he said. He was mumbling and facing away.

I chased him back to the truck. " Wait! " I called as he turned toward the house.

He spun around to face me, and I saw that his hands were shaking again.

" Go home, Bella. I can't hang out with you anymore. "

The silly, inconsequential hurt was incredibly potent. The tears welled up again. " Are you… breaking up with me? " The words were all wrong, but they were the best way I could think to phrase what I was asking. After all, what Jake and I had was more than any schoolyard romance. Stronger.

He barked out a bitter laugh. " Hardly. If that were the case, I'd say 'Let's stay friends. ' I can't even say that. "

" Jacob… why? Sam won't let you have other friends? Please, Jake. You promised. I need you! " The blank emptiness of my life before–before Jacob brought some semblance of reason back into it–reared up and confronted me. Loneliness choked in my throat.

" I'm sorry, Bella, " Jacob said each word distinctly in a cold voice that didn't seem to belong to him.

I didn't believe that this was really what Jacob wanted to say. It seemed like there was something else trying to be said through his angry eyes, but I couldn't understand the message.

Maybe this wasn't about Sam at all. Maybe this had nothing to do with the Cullens. Maybe he was just trying to pull himself out of a hopeless situation. Maybe I should let him do that, if that's what was best for him. I should do that. It would be right.

But I heard my voice escaping in a whisper.

" I'm sorry that I couldn't… before… I wish I could change how I feel about you, Jacob. " I was desperate, reaching, stretching the truth so far that it curved nearly into the shape of a lie. " Maybe… maybe I would change, " I whispered. " Maybe, if you gave me some time… just don't quit on me now, Jake. I can't take it. "

His face went from anger to agony in a second. One shaking hand reached out toward me.

" No. Don't think like that, Bella, please. Don't blame yourself, don't think this is your fault. This one is all me. I swear, it's not about you. "

" It's not you, it's me, " I whispered. " There's a new one. "

" I mean it, Bella. I'm not…" he struggled, his voice going even huskier as he fought to control his emotion. His eyes were tortured. " I'm not good enough to be your friend anymore, or anything else. I'm not what I was before. I'm not good. "

" What? " I stared at him, confused and appalled. " What are you saying? You're much better than I am, Jake. You are good! Who told you that you aren't? Sam? It's a vicious lie, Jacob! Don't let him tell you that! " I was suddenly yelling again.

Jacob's face went hard and flat. " No one had to tell me anything. I know what I am. "

" You're my friend, that's what you are! Jake–don't! "

He was backing away from me.

" I'm sorry, Bella, " he said again; this time it was a broken mumble. He turned and almost ran into the house.

I was unable to move from where I stood. I stared at the little house; it looked too small to hold four large boys and two larger men. There was no reaction inside. No flutter at the edge of the curtain, no sound of voices or movement. It faced me vacantly.

The rain started to drizzle, stinging here and there against my skin. I couldn't take my eyes off the house. Jacob would come back. He had to.

The rain picked up, and so did the wind. The drops were no longer falling from above; they slanted at an angle from the west. I could smell the brine from the ocean. My hair whipped in my face, sticking to the wet places and tangling in my lashes. I waited.

Finally the door opened, and I took a step forward in relief.

Billy rolled his chair into the door frame. I could see no one behind him.

" Charlie just called, Bella. I told him you were on your way home. " His eyes were full of pity.

The pity made it final somehow. I didn't comment. I just turned robotically and climbed in my truck. I'd left the windows open and the seats were slick and wet. It didn't matter. I was already soaked.

Not as bad! Not as bad! my mind tried to comfort me. It was true. This wasn't as bad. This wasn't the end of the world, not again. This was just the end of what little peace there was left behind. That was all.

Not as bad, I agreed, then added, but bad enough.

I'd thought Jake had been healing the hole in me–or at least plugging it up, keeping it from hurting me so much. I'd been wrong. He'd just been carving out his own hole, so that I was now riddled through like Swiss cheese. I wondered why I didn't crumble into pieces.

Charlie was waiting on the porch. As I rolled to a stop, he walked out to meet me.

" Billy called. He said you got in fight with Jake–said you were pretty upset, " he explained as he opened my door for me.

Then he looked at my face. A kind of horrified recognition registered in his expression. I tried to feel my face from the inside out, to know what he was seeing. My face felt empty and cold, and I realized what it would remind him of.

" That's not exactly how it happened, " I muttered.

Charlie put his arm around me and helped me out of the car. He didn't comment on my sodden clothes.

" Then what did happen'" he asked when we were inside. He pulled the afghan off the back of the sofa as he spoke and wrapped it around my shoulders. I realized I was shivering still.

My voice was lifeless. " Sam Uley says Jacob can't be my friend anymore. "

Charlie shot me a strange look. " Who told you that? "

" Jacob, " I stated, though that wasn't exactly what he'd said. It was still true.

Charlie's eyebrows pulled together. " You really think there's something wrong with the Uley kid? "

" I know there is. Jacob wouldn't tell me what, though. " I could hear the water from my clothes dripping to the floor and splashing on the linoleum. " I'm going to go change. "

Charlie was lost in thought. " Okay, " he said absently.

I decided to take a shower because I was so cold, but the hot water didn't seem to affect the temperature of my skin. I was still freezing when I gave up and shut the water off. In the sudden quiet, I could hear Charlie talking to someone downstairs. I wrapped a towel around me, and cracked the bathroom door.

Charlie's voice was angry. " I'm not buying that. It doesn't make any sense. "

It was quiet then, and I realized he was on the phone. A minute passed.

" Don't you put this on Bella! " Charlie suddenly shouted.

I jumped. When he spoke again, his voice was careful and lower. " Bella's made it very clear all along that she and Jacob were just friends… Well, if that was it, then why didn't you say so at first? No, Billy, I think she's right about this… Because I know my daughter, and if she says Jacob was scared before–" He was cut off mid‑ sentence, and when he answered he was almost shouting again.

" What do you mean I don't know my daughter as well as I think I do! " He listened for a brief second, and his response was almost too low for me to hear. " If you think I'm going to remind her about that, then you had better think again. She's only just starting to get over it, and mostly because of Jacob, I think. If whatever Jacob has going on with this Sam character sends her back into that depression, then Jacob is going to have to answer to me. You're my friend, Billy, but this is hurting my family. "

There was another break for Billy to respond.

" You got that right–those boys set one toe out of line and I'm going to know about it. We'll be keeping an eye on the situation, you can be sure of that. " He was no longer Charlie; he was Chief Swan now.

" Fine. Yeah. Goodbye. " The phone slammed into the cradle.

I tiptoed quickly across the hall into my room. Charlie was muttering angrily in the kitchen.

So Billy was going to blame me. I was leading Jacob on and he'd finally had enough.

It was strange, for I'd feared that myself, but after the last thing Jacob had said this afternoon, I didn't believe it anymore. There was much more to this than an unrequited crush, and it surprised me that Billy would stoop to claiming that. It made me think that whatever secret they were keeping was bigger than I'd been imagining. At least Charlie was on my side now.

I put my pajamas on and crawled into bed. Life seemed dark enough at the moment chat I let myself cheat. The hole–holes now–were already aching, so why not? I pulled out the memory–nor a real memory that would hurt too much, but the false memory of Edward's voice in my mind this afternoon–and played it over and over in my head until I fell asleep with the tears still streaming calmly down my empty face.

It was a new dream tonight. Rain was falling and Jacob was walking soundlessly beside me, though beneath my feet the ground crunched like dry gravel. But he wasn't my Jacob; he was the new, bitter, graceful Jacob. The smooth suppleness of his walk reminded me of someone else, and, as I watched, his features started to change. The russet color of his skin leached away, leaving his face pale white like bone. His eyes turned gold, and then crimson, and then back to gold again. His shorn hair twisted in the breeze, turning bronze where the wind touched it. And his face became so beautiful that it shattered my heart. I reached for him, but he took a step away, raising his hands like a shield. And then Edward vanished.

I wasn't sure, when I woke in the dark, if I'd just begun crying, or if my tears had run while I slept and simply continued now. I stared at my dark ceiling. I could feel that it was the middle of the night–I was still half‑ asleep, maybe more than half. I closed my eyes wearily and prayed for a dreamless sleep.

That's when I heard the noise that must have wakened me in the first place. Something sharp scraped along the length of my window with a high‑ pitched squeal, like fingernails against the glass.

12 INTRUDER

MY EYES FLEW WIDE OPEN WITH FRIGHT, THOUGH I WAS so exhausted and muddled that I was not yet positive whether I was awake or asleep.

Something scratched against my window again with the same thin, high‑ pitched sound.

Confused and clumsy with sleep, I stumbled out of my bed and to the window, blinking the lingering tears from my eyes on the way.

A huge, dark shape wobbled erratically on the other side of the glass, lurching toward me like it was going to smash right through. I staggered back, terrified, my throat closing around a scream.

Victoria.

She'd come for me.

I was dead.

Not Charlie, too!

I choked back the building scream. I would have to keep quiet through this. Somehow. I had to keep Charlie from coming to investigate…

And then a familiar, husky voice called from the dark shape.

" Bella! " it hissed. " Ouch! Damn it, open the window! OUCH! "

I needed two seconds to shake off the horror before I could move, but then I hurried to the window and shoved the glass out of the way. The clouds were dimly lit from behind, enough for me to make sense of the shapes.

" What are you doing? " I gasped.

Jacob was clinging precariously to the top of the spruce that grew in the middle of Charlie's little front yard. His weight had bowed the tree toward the house and he now swung–his legs dangling twenty feet above the ground–not a yard away from me. The thin branches at the tip of the tree scraped against the side of the house again with a grating squeal.

" I'm trying to keep" –he huffed, shifting his weight as the treetop bounced him–" my promise! "

I blinked my wet blurry eyes, suddenly sure that I was dreaming.

" When did you ever promise to kill yourself falling out of Charlie's tree? "

He snorted, unamused, swinging his legs to improve his balance. " Get out of the way, " he ordered.

" What? "

He swung his legs again, backwards and forward, increasing his momentum. I realized what he was ttying to do.

" No, Jake! "

But I ducked to the side, aecause it was too late. With a grunt, he launched himself toward my open window.

Another scream built in my throat as I waited for him to fall to his death–or at least maim himself against the wooden siding. To my shock, he swung agilely into my room, landing on the balls of his feet with a low thud.

We both looked to the door automatically, holding our breath, waiting to see if the noise had woken Charlie. A short moment of silence passed, and then we heard the muffled sound of Charlie's snore.

A wide grin spread slowly across Jacob's face; he seemed extremely pleased with himself. It wasn't the grin that I knew and loved–it was a new grin, one that was a bitter mockery of his old sincerity, on the new face that belonged to Sam.

That was a bit much for me.

I'd cried myself to sleep over this boy. His harsh rejection had punched a painful new hole in what was left of my chest. He'd left a new nightmare behind him, like an infection in a sore–the insult after the injury. And now he was here in my room, smirking at me as if none of that had passed. Worse than that, even though his arrival had been noisy and awkward, it reminded me of when Edward used to sneak in through my window at night, and the reminder picked viciously at the unhealed wounds.

All of this, coupled with the fact that I was dog‑ tired, did not put me in a friendly mood.

" Get out! " I hissed, putting as much venom into the whisper as I could.

He blinked, his face going blank with surprise.

" No, " he protested. " I came to apologize. "

" I don't accept! "

I tried to shove him back out the window–after all, if this was a dream, it wouldn't really hurt him. It was useless, though. I didn't budge him an inch. I dropped my hands quickly, and stepped away from him.

He wasn't wearing a shirt, though the air blowing in the window was cold enough to make me shiver, and it made me uncomfortable to have my hands on his bare chest. His skin was burning hot, like his head had been the last time I'd touched him. Like he was still sick with the fever.

He didn't look sick. He looked huge. He leaned over me, so big that he blacked out the window, tongue‑ tied by my furious reaction.

Suddenly, it was just more than I could handle–it felt as if all of my sleepless nights were crashing down on me en masse. I was so brutally tired that I thought I might collapse right there on the floor. I swayed unsteadily, and struggled to keep my eyes open.

" Bella? " Jacob whispered anxiously. He caught my elbow as I swayed again, and steered me back to the bed. My legs gave out when I reached the edge, and I plopped into a limp heap on the mattress.

" Hey, are you okay? " Jacob asked, worry creasing his forehead.

I looked up at him, the tears not yet dried on my cheeks. " Why in the world would I be okay, Jacob? "

Anguish replaced some of the bitterness in his face. " Right, " he agreed, and took a deep breath. " Crap. Well… I–I'm so sorry, Bella. " The apology was sincere, no doubt about it, though there was still an angry twist to his features.

" Why did you come here? I don't want apologies from you, Jake. "

" I know, " he whispered. " But I couldn't leave things the way I did this afternoon. Thar was horrible. I'm sorry. "

I shook my head wearily. " I don't understand anything. "

" I know. I want to explain–" He broke off suddenly, his mouth open, almost like something had cut off his air. Then he sucked in a deep breath. " But I can't explain, " he said, still angry. " I wish I could. "

I let my head fall into my hands. My question came out muffled by my arm. " Why? "

He was quiet for a moment. I twisted my head to the side–too tired to hold it up–to see his expression. It surprised me. His eyes were squinted, his teeth clenched, his forehead wrinkled in effort.

" What's wrong? " I asked.

He exhaled heavily, and I realized he'd been holding his breath, too. " I can't do it, " he muttered, frustrated.

" Do what? "

He ignored my question. " Look, Bella, haven't you ever had a secret that you couldn't tell anyone? "

He looked at me with knowing eyes, and my thoughts jumped immediately to the Cullens. I hoped my expression didn't look guilty.

" Something you felt like you had to keep from Charlie, from your mom…? " he pressed. " Something you won't even talk about with me? Not even now? "

I felt my eyes tighten. I didn't answer his question, though I knew he would take that as a confirmation.

" Can you understand that I might have the same kind of… situation? " He was struggling again, seeming to fight for the right words. " Sometimes, loyalty gets in the way of what you want to do. Sometimes, it's not your secret to tell. "

So, I couldn't argue with that. He was exactly right–I had a secret that wasn't mine to tell, yet a secret I felt bound to protect. A secret that, suddenly, he seemed to know all about.

I still didn't see how it applied to him, or Sam, or Billy. What was it to them, now that the Cullens were gone?

" I don't know why you came here, Jacob, if you were just going to give me riddles instead of answers. "

" I'm sorry, " he whispered. " This is so frustrating. "

We looked at each other for a long moment in the dark room, both our faces hopeless.

" The part that kills me, " he said abruptly, " is that you already know. I already told yon everything! "

" What are you talking about? "

He sucked in a startled breath, and then leaned toward me, his face shifting from hopelessness to blazing intensity in a second. He stared fiercely into my eyes, and his voice was fast and eager. He spoke the words right into my face; his breath was as hot as his skin.

" I think I see a way to make this work out–because you know this, Bella! I can't tell you, but if you guessed it! That would let me right off the hook! "

" You want me to guess? Guess what? "

" My secret! You can do it–you know the answer! "

I blinked twice, trying to clear my head. I was so tired. Nothing he said made sense.

He took in my blank expression, and then his face tensed with effort again. " Hole on, let me see if I give you some help, " he said. Whatever he was trying to do, it was so hard he was panting.

" Help? " I asked, trying to keep up. My lids wanted to slip closed, but I forced them open.

" Yeah, " he said, breathing hard. " Like clues. "

He took my face in his enormous, too‑ warm hands and held it just a few inches from his. He stared into my eyes while he whispered, as if to communicate something besides the words he spoke.

" Remember the first day we met–on the beach in La Push? "

" Of course I do. "

" Tell me about it. "

I took a deep breath and tried to concentrate. " You asked about my truck…"

He nodded, urging me on.

" We talked about the Rabbit…"

" Keep going. "

" We went for a walk down the beach…" My cheeks were growing warm under his palms as I remembered, but he wouldn't notice, hot as his skin was. I'd asked him to walk with me, flirting ineptly but successfully, in order to pump him for information.

He was nodding, anxious for more.

My voice was nearly soundless. " You told me scary stories… Quileute legends. "

He closed his eyes and opened them again. " Yes. " The word was tense, fervent, like he was on the edge of something vital. He spoke slowly, making each word distinct. " Do you remember what I said? "

Even in the dark, he must be able to see the change in the color of my face. How could I ever forget that? Without realizing what he was doing, Jacob had told me exactly what I needed to know that day–that Edward was a vampire.

He looked at me with eyes that knew too much. " Think hard, " he told me.

" Yes, I remember, " I breathed.

He inhaled deeply, struggling. " Do you remember all the stor–" He couldn't finish the question. His mouth popped open like something had stuck in his throat.

" All the stories? " I asked.

He nodded mutely.

My head churned. Only one story really mattered. I knew he'd begun with others, but I couldn't remember the inconsequential prelude, especially not while my brain was so clouded with exhaustion. I started to shake my head.

Jacob groaned and jumped off the bed. He pressed his fists against his forehead and breathed fast and angry. " You know this, you know this, " he muttered to himself.

" Jake? Jake, please, I'm exhausted. I'm no good at this right now. Maybe in the morning…"

He took a steadying breath and nodded. " Maybe it will come back to you. I guess I understand why you only remember the one story, " he added in a sarcastic, bitter tone. He plunked back onto the mattress beside me. " Do you mind if I ask you a question about that? " he asked, still sarcastic. " I've been dying ro know. "

" A question about what? " I asked warily.

" About the vampire story I told you. "

I stared at him with guarded eyes, unable to answer. He asked his question anyway.

" Did you honestly not know? " he asked me, his voice turning husky. " Was I the one who told you what he was? "

How did he know this? Why did he decide to believe, why now? My teeth clenched together. I stared back at him, no intention of speaking. He could see that.

" See what I mean about loyalty? " he murmured, even huskier now. " It's the same for me, only worse. You can't imagine how tight I'm bound…"

I didn't like that–didn't like the way his eyes closed as if he were in pain when he spoke of being bound. More than dislike–I realized I hated it, hated anything that caused him pain. Hated it fiercely.

Sam's face filled my mind.

For me, this was all essentially voluntary. I protected the Cullens' secret out of love; unrequited, but true. For Jacob, it didn't seem to be that way.

" Isn't there any way for you to get free? " I whispered, touching the rough edge at the back of his shorn hair.

His hands began to tremble, but he didn't open his eyes. " No. I'm in this for life. A life sentence. " A bleak laugh. " Longer, maybe. "

" No, Jake, " I moaned. " What if we ran away? Just you and me. What if we left home, and left Sam behind? "

" It's not something I can run away from, Bella, " he whispered. " I would run with you, though, if I could. " His shoulders were shaking now, too. He took a deep breath. " Look, I've got to leave. "

" Why? "

" For one thing, you look like you're going to pass out at any second. You need your sleep–I need you firing on all pistons. You're going to figure this out, you have to. "

" And why else? "

He frowned. " I had to sneak out–I'm not supposed to see you. They've got to be wondering where I am. " His mouth twisted. " I suppose I should go let them know. "

" You don't have to tell them anything, " I hissed.

" All the same, I will. "

The anger flashed hot inside me. " I hate them! "

Jacob looked at me with wide eyes, surprised. " No, Bella. Don't hate the guys. It's not Sam's or any of the others' faults. I told you before–it's me. Sam is actually… well, incredibly cool. Jared and Paul are great, too, though Paul is kind of… And Embry's always been my friend. Nothing's changed there–the only thing that hasn't changed. I feel really bad abour the things I used to think about Sam…"

" Sam was incredibly cool. " I glared at him in disbelief, but let it go.

" Then why aren't you supposed to see me? " I demanded.

" It's not safe, " he mumbled looking down.

His words sent a thrill of fear through me.

Did he know that, too? Nobody knew that besides me. But he was right–it was the middle of the night, the perfect time for hunting. Jacob shouldn't be here in my room. If someone came for me, I had: o be alone.

" If I thought it was too… too risky, " he whispered, " I wouldn't have come. But Bella, " he looked at me again, " I made you a promise. I had no idea it would be so hard to keep, but that doesn't mean I'm not going to try. "

He saw the incomprehension in my face. " After that stupid movie, " he reminded me. " I promised you that I wouldn't ever hurt you… So I really blew it this afternoon, didn't I? "

" I know you didn't want to do it, Jake. It's okay. "

" Thanks, Bella. " He took my hand. " I'm going to do what I can to be here for you, just like I promised. " He grinned at me suddenly. The grin was not mine, nor Sam's, but some strange combination of the two. " It would really help if you could figure this out on your own, Bella. Put some honest effort into it. "

I made a weak grimace. " I'll try. "

" And I'll try to see you soon. " He sighed. " And they'll try to talk me out of that. "

" Don't listen to them. "

" I'll try. " He shook his head, as if he doubted his success. " Come and tell me as soon as you figure it out. " Something occurred to him just then, something that made his hands shake. " If you… if you want to. "

" Why wouldn't I want to see you? "

His face turned hard and bitter, one hundred percent the face that belonged to Sam. " Oh, I can think of a reason, " he said in a harsh tone. " Look, I really have to go. Could you do something for me? "

I just nodded, frightened of the change in him.

" At least call me–if you don't want to see me again. Let me know if it's like that. "

" That won't happen–"

He raised one hand, cutting me off. " Just let me know. "

He stood and headed for the window.

" Don't be an idiot, Jake, " I complained. " You'll break your leg. Use the door. Charlie's not going to catch you. "

" I won't get hurt, " he muttered, but he turned for the door. He hesitated as he passed me, staring at me with an expression like something was stabbing him. He held one hand out, pleading.

I took his hand, and suddenly he yanked me–too roughly–right off the bed so that I thudded against his chest.

" Just in case, " he muttered against my hair, crushing me in a bear hug that about broke my ribs.

" Can't–breathe! " I gasped.

He dropped me at once, keeping one hand at my waist so I didn't fall over. He pushed me, more gently this time, back down on the bed.

" Get some sleep, Bells. You've got to get your head working. I know you can do this. I need you. to understand. I won't lose you, Bella. Not for this. "

He was to the door in one stride, opening it quietly, and then disappearing through it. I listened for him to hit the squeaky step in the stairs, but there was no sound.

I lay back on my bed, my head spinning. I was too confused, too worn out. I closed my eyes, trying to make sense of it, only to be swallowed up by unconsciousness so swiftly that it was disorienting.

It was not the peaceful, creamless sleep I'd yearned for–of course not. I was in the forest again, and I started to wander the way I always did.

I quickly became aware that this was not the same dream as usual. For one thing, I felt no compulsion to wander or to search; I was merely wandering out of habit, because that was what was usually expected of me here. Actually, this wasn't even the same forest. The smell was different, and the light, too. It smelled, not like the damp earth of the woods, but like the brine of the ocean. I couldn't see the sky; still, it seemed like the sun must be shining–the leaves above were bright jade green.

This was the forest around La Push–near the beach there, I was sure of it. I knew that if I found the beach, I would be able to see the sun, so I hurried forward, following the faint sound of waves in the distance.

And then Jacob was there. He grabbed my hand, pulling me back toward the blackest part of the forest.

" Jacob, what's wrong? " I asked. His face was the frightened face of a boy, and his hair was beautiful again, swept back into a ponytail on the nape of his neck. He yanked with all his strength, but I resisted; I didn't want to go into the dark.

" Run, Bella, you have to run! " he whispered, terrified.

The abrupt wave of deja vu was so strong it nearly woke me up.

I knew why I recognized this place now. It was because I'd been here before, in another dream. A million years ago, part of a different life entirely. This was the dream I'd had the night after I'd walked with Jacob on the beach, the first night I knew that Edward was a vampire. Reliving that day with Jacob must have dredged this dream out of my buried memories.

Detached from the dream now, I waited for it to play out. A light was coming toward me from the beach. In just a moment, Edward would walk through the trees, his skin faintly glowing and his eyes black and dangerous. He would beckon to me, and smile. He would be beautiful as an angel, and his teeth would be pointed and sharp…

But I was getting ahead of myself. Something else had to happen first.

Jacob dropped my hand and yelped. Shaking and twitching, he fell to the ground at my feet.

" Jacob! " I screamed, but he was gone.

In his place was an enormous, red‑ brown wolf with dark, intelligent eyes.

The dream veered off course, like a train jumping the tracks.

This was not the same wolf that I'd dreamed of in another life. This was the great russet wolf I'd stood half a foot from in the meadow, just a week ago. This wolf was gigantic, monstrous, bigger than a bear.

This wolf stared intently at me, trying to convey something vital with his intelligent eyes. The black‑ brown, familiar eyes of Jacob Black.

I woke screaming at the top of my lungs.

I almost expected Charlie to come check on me this time. This wasn't my usual screaming. I buried my head in my pillow and tried to muffle the hysterics that my screams were building into. J pressed the cotton tight against my face, wondering if I couldn't also somehow smother the connection I'd just made.

But Charlie didn't come in. and eventually I was able to strangle the strange screeching coming out of my throat.

I remembered it all now–every word that Jacob had said to me that day on the beach, even the part before he got to the vampires, the " cold ones. " Especially that first part.

" Do you know any of our old stories, about where we came from –the Quileutes, I mean? " he asked.

" Not really, " I admitted.

" Well, there are lots of legends, some of them claiming to date back to the Flood –supposedly, the ancient Quileutes tied their canoes to the tops of the tallest trees on the mountain to survive, like Noah and the ark. " He smiled then, to show me how little stock he put in the histories. " Another legend claims that we descended from wolves –and that the wolves are our brothers still. It's against tribal law to kill them.

" Then there are the stories about the cold ones. " His voice dropped a little lower.

" The cold ones? "

" Yes. There are stories of the cold ones as old as the wolf legends, and some much more recent. According to legend, my own great‑ grandfather knew some of them. He was the one who made the treaty that kept them off our land. " Jacob rolled his eyes.

" Your great‑ grandfather? "

" He was a tribal elder, like my father. You see, the cold ones are the natural enemies of the wolf –well, not the wolf really, but the wolves that turn into men, like our ancestors. You would call them werewolves. "

" Werewolves have enemies? "

" Only one. "

There was something stuck in my throat, choking me. I tried to swallow it down, but it was lodged there, un‑ moving. I tried to spit it out.

" Werewolf, " I gasped.

Yes, that was the word that I was choking on.

The whole world lurched, tilting the wrong way on its axis.

What kind of a place was this? Could a world really exist where ancient legends went wandering around the borders of tiny, insignificant towns, facing down mythical monsters? Did this mean every impossible fairy tale was grounded somewhere in absolute truth? Was there anything sane or normal at all, or was everything just magic and ghost stories?

I clutched my head in my hands, trying to keep it from exploding.

A small, dry voice in the back of my mind asked me what the big deal was. Hadn't I already accepted the existence of vampires long ago–and without all the hysterics that time?

Exactly, I wanted to scream back at the voice. Wasn't one myth enough for anyone, enough for a lifetime?

Besides, there'd never been one moment that I wasn't completely aware that Edward Cullen was above and beyond the ordinary. It wasn't such a surprise to find out what he was–because he so obviously was something.

But Jacob? Jacob, who was just Jacob, and nothing more than that? Jacob, my friend? Jacob, the only human I'd ever been able to relate to…

And he wasn't even human.

I fought the urge to scream again.

What did this say about me?

I knew the answer to that one. It said that there was something deeply wrong with me. Why else would my life be filled with characters from horror movies? Why else would I care so much about them that it would tear big chunks right out of my chest when they went off along their mythical ways?

In my head, everything spun and shifted, rearranging so that things that had meant one thing before, now meant something else.

There was no cult. There had never been a cult, never been a gang. No, it was much worse than that. It was a pack.

A pack of five mind‑ blowingly gigantic, multihued werewolves that had stalked right past me in Edward's meadow…

Suddenly, I was in a frantic hurry. I glanced at the clock–it was way too early and I didn't care. I had to go to La Push now. I had to see Jacob so he could tell me that I hadn't lost my mind altogether.

I pulled on the first clean clothes I could find, not bothering to be sure they matched, and took the stairs two at a time. I almost ran into Charlie as I skidded into the hallway, headed for the door.

" Where are you going? " he asked, as surprised to see me as I was to see him. " Do you know what time it is? "

" Yeah. I have to go see Jacob. "

" I thought the thing with Sam–"

" That doesn't matter, I have to talk to him right now. "

" It's pretty early. " He frowned when my expression didn't change. " Don't you want breakfast? "

" Not hungry. " The words flew through my lips. He was blocking my path to the exit. I considered ducking around him and making a run for it, but I knew I would have to explain that to him later. " I'll be back soon, okay? "

Charlie frowned. " Straight to Jacob's house, right? No stops on the way? "

" Of course not, where would I stop? " My words were running together in my hurry.

" I don't know, " he admitted. " It's just… well, there's been another attack–the wolves again. It was real close to the resort by the hot springs–there's a witness this time. The victim was only a dozen yards from the road when he disappeared. His wife saw a huge gray wolf just a few minutes later, while she was searching for him, and ran for help. "

My stomach dropped like I'd hit a corkscrew on a roller coaster. " A wolf attacked him? "

" There's no sign of him–just a little blood again. " Charlie's face was pained. " The rangers are going out armed, taking armed volunteers. There're a lot of hunters who are eager to be involved–there's a reward being offered for wolf carcasses. That's going to mean a lot of firepower out there in the forest, and it worries me. " He shook his head. " When people get too excited, accidents happen…"

" They're going to shoot the wolves? " My voice shot through three octaves.

" What else can we do? What's wrong? " he asked, his tense eyes studying my face. I felt faint; I must be whiter than usual. " You aren't turning into a tree‑ hugger on me, are you? "

I couldn't answer. If he hadn't been watching me, I would have put my head between my knees. I'd forgotten about the missing hikers, the bloody paw prints… I hadn't connected those facts to my first realization.

" Look, honey, don't let this scare you. Just stay in town or on the highway–no stops–okay? "

" Okay, " I repeated in a weak voice.

" I've got to go. "

I looked at him closely for the first time, and saw that he had his gun strapped to his waist and hiking boots on.

" You aren't going out there after the wolves, are you, Dad? "

" I've got to help, Bells. People are disappearing. "

My voice shot up again, almost hysterical now. " No! No, don't go. It's too dangerous! "

" I've got to do my job, kid. Don't be such a pessimist–I'll be fine. " He turned for the door, and held it open. " You leaving? "

I hesitated, my stomach still spinning in uncomfortable loops. What could I say to stop him? I was too dizzy to think of a solution.

" Bells? "

" Maybe it's too early to go to La Push, " I whispered.

" I agree, " he said, and he stepped out into the rain, shutting the door behind him.

As soon as he was out of sight, I dropped to the floor and put my head between my knees.

Should I go after Charlie? What would I say?

And what about Jacob? Jacob was my best friend; I needed to warn him. If he really was a–I cringed and forced myself to think the word–werewolf (and I knew it was true, I could feel it), then people would be shooting at him! I needed to tell him and his friends that people would try to kill them if they went running around like gigantic wolves. I needed to tell them to stop.

They had to stop! Charlie was out there in the woods. Would they care about that? I wondered… Up until now, only strangers had disappeared. Did that mean anything, or was it just chance?

I needed to believe that Jacob, at least, would care about that.

Either way, I had to warn him.

Or… did I?

Jacob was my best friend, but was he a monster, too? A real one? A bad one? Should I warn him, if he and his friends were… were murderers! If they were out slaughtering innocent hikers in cold blood? If they were truly creatures from a horror movie in every sense, would it be wrong to protect them?

It was inevitable that I would have to compare Jacob and his friends to the Cullens. I wrapped my arms around my chest, fighting the hole, while I thought of them.

I didn't know anything about werewolves, clearly. I would have expected something closer to the movies–big hairy half‑ men creatures or something–if I'd expected anything at all. So I didn't know what made them hunt, whether hunger or thirst or just a desire to kill. It was hard to judge, not knowing that.

But it couldn't be worse than what the Cullens endured in their quest to be good. I thought of Esme–the tears started when I pictured her kind, lovely face–and how, as motherly and loving as she was, she'd had to hold her nose, all ashamed, and run from me when I was bleeding. It couldn't be harder than that. I thought of Carlisle, the centuries upon centuries that he had struggled to teach himself to ignore blood, so that he could save lives as a doctor. Nothing could be harder than that.

The werewolves had chosen a different path.

Now, what should I choose?

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