The Fire of the Sun -- Chapter Two
Title: The Fire of the Sun
Author: audreyii_fic
Fandom: Twilight (Team Jacob)
Rating: T
Characters: Full cast (Jacob/Bella, Sam/Emily)
Genre: Romance/Angst/Wolfpack!Humor
Warnings: Language, violence, and references to adult behavior. See here for more details.
banner courtesy of untilwebleedoz
Summary:
Sequel to The Movement of the Earth. Bella finds the cost of joining the supernatural world may be higher than she can pay. ( Click here to start from the beginning.)
Chapter Two:
the northwest mist is rising strong in the valley where i wait / i had sworn to keep you safe
Olivia Chrestomanci, "Red"
2. Message
"Okay." The doctor, an old man with jowls that hung past his chin, moved the lamp closer to my arm. "Now make a fist."
I curled the fingers of my left hand into my palm. The healing skin burned as it pulled against my knuckles, and the joints were stiff and creaky. There was also a deep, persistent itch that felt like it was coming from my muscles.
"Do you feel anything?"
"Kind of." I touched the pad of my left index finger with my right. "The sensation's all sort of... fuzzy. But I can feel it."
"Does it hurt?"
"Not really."
"Does it itch?"
"Yes."
The doctor had the nerve to smile at me. "Well, don't scratch it."
My glare was probably as blazing as the flames that had burned me in the first place. "I'll do my best," I said sarcastically.
"Glad to hear it." The doctor rolled his stool away from the examining table and pulled a prescription pad out of his desk. "I have good news: it's time to give up the gauze."
I blinked. "Are you sure?" It wasn't like I wasn't anxious to get some basic manual dexterity back -- and I still had two weeks before the cast on my right wrist was scheduled to come off -- but... "It still doesn't feel right."
"I'm refilling your pain medication and your antibiotic cream," the doctor said, scribbling. "But if you don't stretch the scar tissue as it heals, you may not regain full mobility."
I looked suspiciously at my hand, then flexed it again. I could see what he meant -- everything felt tight. "It's not going to... tear or anything, will it?"
"You'll need to be careful. Keep drinking lots of water; rub cocoa butter in twice daily. If the skin splits at any point, re-bandage for a few days and use the antibiotic cream. If you begin to run a fever, or if there's any sign of pus or drainage, come back to see me right away."
Any sign of pus or drainage. My stomach turned.
"And during the day," the doctor added, "I recommend wearing a leather glove to minimize accidental rough contact." He tore off the prescription and handed it to me. "Go to Port Angeles and get a pretty one; you'll be wearing it for the next two months. And no scratching."
Wonderful.
***
Papers were spread out all over the kitchen table. "This one is asking for your transcripts, where are they?"
"The school has to send them directly." I leafed through the pages of the Penninsula Tuition and Fees information. If I took a full course load I'd be paying over a thousand dollars a semester. My savings account barely held enough for my first year, and it wasn't getting any better any time soon since I'd had to take leave from Newton's Outfitters; you can't really stock shelves when you can't use your hands. "There's a request form in there somewhere."
Charlie narrowed his eyes at the admission application. "Why can't you get the transcript yourself?"
"They don't want me to forge it."
"Ah." He scanned further down the page, making a couple of marks here and there. I still wouldn't be able to write until the cast came off -- and even then I'd been warned me that I might have trouble handling a pencil for awhile, given the way I'd broken my finger when I 'fell out of bed'.
The fact that my hand had been broken punching a werewolf was another tidbit of information I was keeping to myself.
"Okay. What about your GPA?"
I winced and told him.
"Really?" Charlie looked appalled. "Bells, I thought you were near the top of your class--"
"I was," I said bitterly. "I... didn't do well last fall." That was an understatement. In my numb state I'd thought I'd been keeping up with my schoolwork; when the new class rankings had been posted a few weeks ago I'd nearly fainted on the spot. Turns out you can undo three years of consistently above-average work in a single semester of zombiehood. And while my grades would be better this spring -- being that I was awake now and had Mike's chemistry 'help' -- they would only be enough to scrape through my required courses. I stood no chance of repairing my academic record before graduation.
Hence the community college application.
Charlie looked at the paper without seeing it, his eyebrows coming together. "I didn't know," he said roughly. "I didn't know you were failing."
"I didn't know either."
"I didn't ask--"
"I wouldn't have answered."
The pencil snapped in my father's hand as he brought his fist down on the table.
We were silent for a long moment.
"Look," I said finally, making an effort to keep my tone light, "it's better this way. Community college is cheaper, so I'll have fewer student loans. I'll just take all my 101 courses at Penninsula and keep my grades up, then in a couple of years I can transfer to U-Dub and finish out there. No big deal."
"U-Dub," Charlie said contemptuously.
I frowned. "Yeah, U-Dub. What's wrong with that? You went there. Mom went there. Lots of people go there. It's a good school."
"Yeah, but... Bells, you've always been so smart." He kept glaring at the admission application, like it was at fault for all of this. "I mean, you were reading these big, thick books by the time you were six. Your mom would call and tell me how you'd won first place in the science fair and got a ribbon in the spelling bee and... You should be going to Yale or Princeton or something, not the University of Washington."
Yale. Or Princeton.
I couldn't believe how much Charlie's words hurt. My heart felt like it was being squeezed into pulp. "You're disappointed in me," I breathed, my eyes filling with tears.
He looked up sharply. "No, Bella-- I'm not-- It's just that if I'd taken you to a doctor last fall you'd have a medical note to go with all this stuff and it could've, I don't know, made a difference with the admissions boards or something--"
"Not that much of a difference," I said. I tried to smile. "Besides, I didn't want to go to Yale or Princeton anyhow. All those Ivy Leagues are a really long way from Forks."
When I said that, Charlie's expression warmed; his lips twitched before he looked back down at the paper, reaching for a new pencil. A very tiny blush started on his cheeks. Charlie was even worse with emotions than me, and that was saying something. "So, what about this 'household income' stuff?" he continued brusquely.
"Oh, that." I glanced over at the list of information. "It's for financial aid, I think."
"Is it supposed to be my income or yours?"
"Both, I guess, since I'm living here. I'm making about four thousand a year at Newton's, so just add that onto your salary and that should be right."
The little blush spread from his cheeks to his nose. "So you're going to keep living here with me?"
Oh. This was about to get awkward. "Well..." I bit my lip. "That, um, kind of depends. On some things."
There was a long silence -- then Charlie's expression turned thunderous. "No."
"Dad, listen, I know what it looks like--"
"No."
"They didn't really do anything wrong--"
"No!"
Whether or not I would be living with Charlie this fall hinged on a deal I'd made with Jacob. If Jake had had his way I would've left Forks the night the Cullens returned; he wanted me safe behind the treaty line established a century ago between Carlisle, Edward's adoptive father, and Ephraim Black, Jacob's great-grandfather. Vampires were not permitted on the tribal lands, and all of Jacob's instincts told him to get his imprint as far away from the 'bloodsuckers' as possible.
But I'd refused. I'd refused for Charlie. I couldn't bear to hurt my father that badly, to just disappear in the middle of the night and go running off to live with a group of people he considered to be a gang at best, a cult at worst, and dangerous either way.
So we'd struck a compromise. I had until graduation for things to get better. Ideally that would mean the Cullens had picked up and left, but Jacob would probably settle for Charlie allowing me free and frequent access to La Push, where I'd be away from potential vampiric influence. If things didn't get better I would move to the reservation as soon as school was over. I'd given Jacob my word.
Given Charlie's current intractability about the 'gang' and anyone he believed was protecting them, it didn't look like I'd be living in Forks for much longer.
"Please, Dad," I tried again. I hadn't pushed this hard before, but being patient hadn't gotten me anywhere in the last few weeks. "It's not as bad as you think it is--"
"The hell it's not."
"Just call Billy, let him explain--"
"I don't want to hear anything Billy Black has to say."
"I know you miss him--"
"I don't."
"Harry would have hated that you two were fighting!" I said desperately.
Charlie flinched. He, Harry, and Billy had been best friends. The three of them had known each other since they were little; their first children were all born in the same eighteen months; they'd gotten together for fishing or football or something almost every weekend that I could remember. Now Harry was dead and Charlie didn't trust Billy enough to pick up the phone.
"If Harry's kids had been in danger," Charlie said, his voice carefully controlled, "he'd do the exact same thing I'm doing."
I wasn't so certain about that, given that both of Harry's kids were now werewolves. "Dad, if you two just talked, I think maybe you would see that things--"
"We'll finish the application later, Bella." Charlie's heavy boots thudded against the floor as he walked from the kitchen.
I sighed.
***
I laid in bed examining my newly-exposed hand in the lamplight.
It didn't look good. There was no way to sugarcoat that fact. The skin was a wrinkled pink on the parts that were the least healed; the more recovered areas, mostly on the palm, were dark and mottled. My fingers looked almost as if they were wrapped in cellophane. The greyish fingernails hadn't grown at all in the month since the injury. And over everything there were white blotches of scar tissue that looked almost... melted.
Ugly. Very, very ugly.
But, somehow, I didn't feel ashamed of the ugliness. Looking at my hand -- my deformed, but not ruined hand -- reminded me of how it had become this way. I'd killed a vampire. I'd set Victoria on fire and in the process I'd saved Jacob's life, as well as my own. I wasn't so useless after all and I had the battle scars to prove it.
If only it didn't itch so much.
I heard a familiar soft tap of knuckles against the windowpane. "Hey, Jake," I whispered, knowing he could hear me with his keen senses.
Jake hopped in and closed the window without a sound. I envied his gracefulness, considering that once we'd bonded over how we were both clumsy. "Hey, Bells," he said. He was shirtless and shoeless as always, and his eyes widened as he came forward. We were well past polite small talk starters like How are you and What's going on; Jake always jumped right into the middle of conversations. Like commenting on my hand. "Whoa! You're free!"
"Halfway, anyhow." I flushed and tried to hide my arm under the blanket, the pride I'd felt just moments ago vanishing in a hurry and leaving insecurity in its wake. Looking at the scars by myself was one thing; it was different now that someone else would see. And not just anyone else. Jacob.
I didn't want to be ugly in Jacob's eyes... even though I knew I couldn't be. It wasn't possible.
Somehow that made things worse.
Jake sat down on the edge of my bed; his insane body heat warmed me even from a few feet away. His black eyebrows came together as I pulled the blanket higher with my thumb and forefinger. "I can't look?" he asked, confused.
I hesitated, instinctively wanting to stay hidden. But it wasn't like I could just keep my hand wrapped in the comforter forever. "I'm really gross," I warned.
"You're beautiful, Bella." His words were sincere -- and automatic.
"Like Emily's beautiful?" I shot back. Emily Young was Sam's imprint... and Sam thought she was beautiful when she was anything but. He wasn't even looking past her terrible scars to see the beauty within. Sam literally couldn't see the hard truth: Emily was a wonderful person, but her mangled face had rendered her difficult to look at.
Judging by Jacob's expression, he didn't like being reminded that his opinion of me might be influenced by the imprint.
A deep frown on his face, Jake reached forward and tugged firmly at the covers. I let him pull the blanket off my body, let him grasp my forearm and draw me towards him. I raised myself to my knees, my pajama pants riding a little lower than I liked, a deep blush creeping over my face.
Jacob took in the same mottled brown splotches and melted pink skin and puckered white scar tissue I'd been examining a few minutes earlier. He opened his mouth, then shut it and swallowed hard, seeming to concentrate.
I waited.
Finally he looked up at me. "Yeah, it's pretty messed up," he said casually -- though the words obviously took some effort for him to form. A tiny smile pulled at the corners of his mouth. "But it's also kinda cool."
Somehow he'd hit on exactly the right response. "Really?" I said, feeling a little less self-conscious.
"Oh, yeah." His tone was completely serious. "Just wait; once it's healed you can add some tattoos. Then it'll officially be awesome."
"Tattoos? Like what?"
"I dunno. A lighter maybe. Or a stake. Or maybe just Victoria's name, all crossed out like she was your ex-lover or something--"
I whacked him with my cast so he wouldn't hear the giggle about to escape my chest. "That's terrible. What about my reputation?"
"Eh, your reputation could use a little spicing up," Jake said with a grin. "More people should know how badass you are."
I ducked my head, trying and probably failing to hide my embarrassed pleasure. "Bella Swan, badass. Right."
"Hey, a few more motorbike lessons and I think you can officially join Hells Angels."
"You are so full of it, Jacob Black."
"Yeah, I know." His eyes were back on my hand; his thumb rubbed circles where he held onto my arm. "Is it okay to touch?"
I nodded my head. "It's kind of numb, but it's safe. I'm just not allowed to scratch."
He turned my wrist over gently. I held my breath for a long moment as he hesitated, then drew the callused pads of his fingers along the flesh of my palm. I shivered, and he pulled back quickly. "Did I hurt you?" he asked, anxious.
"No." If there was an opposite of hurting, it was Jacob's touch. "I felt that, though."
"You did?"
"Yeah."
"Good." He narrowed his eyes and studied my hand again. It was very similar to the look he used to get when he was working on some particularly tricky part of the Rabbit's engine. Suddenly his face lit up. "Hey!" he exclaimed. I shushed him, and he gave me a sheepish look. "Sorry, Bells. But look." He traced a semi-circle along my palm. "Your lifeline is still there."
I blinked in surprise, then leaned down so I could see, since Jacob didn't seem willing to release my arm any time soon. Most of the creases and swirls of my hand had disappeared under the repairing flesh, but Jake was right -- my lifeline was still in evidence. "I think it's gotten shorter," I remarked.
Jacob shot me a dirty look. "Has not. Don't say that."
"Since when are you superstitious?"
"Since I became a werewolf and discovered there's a whole lot of mystical crap I didn't know existed," he said seriously. "So no joking about shortened lifelines."
"Okay, okay, fine." I shook my head, then did what I hadn't been able to do since a night at a movie theater what seemed like years ago -- I threaded my fingers through Jake's and squeezed. The skin pulled uncomfortably, but the warmth that seemed to settle deep into my bones more than made up for it.
I was holding Jacob Black's hand again.
Jacob released a long breath. "God, I've missed this, Bells." His voice was thick.
"Same here." It felt like something disjointed inside me had clicked back into place. I was supposed to be holding Jacob's hand. This was as it should be. It even seemed to ease the itching a little. Plus... "Well, now we're definitely a go for prom night."
Jake looked up in surprise. "I didn't realize we hadn't been," he said suspiciously.
"No, we were," I assured him. "I was definitely coming over for movies and stuff and... yeah. But, now..." My face had to be neon red. I probably glowed in the darkness. "I mean, it would've been really unfair if you had two hands and I didn't have any..."
Prom night had more or less become code between us. Before anything had happened -- back when our relationship had been progressing on a natural, non-supernatural course -- Jacob had planned to ask me to prom, knowing I would refuse based on my distaste for all things involving dresses or dancing, which would lead into his real plan of us spending the evening at his house watching movies as he worked up the nerve to kiss me for the first time.
Obviously, circumstances had changed. Things were no longer progressing on a natural course. We'd already kissed -- thoroughly. But prom night was still in the works, and... given the givens... depending on where we stood... it was entirely possible that while it wouldn't be our first kiss, there might be a few other firsts. Maybe.
Those firsts would absolutely require functional hands.
Jacob was gaping at me. We'd sort of talked about this before, but the discussion had been shelved until an indeterminate 'later'. "Okay," he said after a long moment. "I'm going to crush up, like, ten Xanax and put them in Billy's water glass that night."
"You have Xanax?"
"I can get some."
Billy. That reminded me. "Jake, can I ask you a favor?"
To my surprise, a bitter expression crossed Jacob's face, his mood suddenly turning sour. He looked down at our joined hands. "Yeah, but I've got to ask you one first," he said through gritted teeth.
A little flare of temper shot through my veins -- only orders from Sam made Jacob act like this. "Sure. What is it?"
Jake grimaced. He clearly had no choice about the next words that came out of his mouth. "Will you give a message to the bloodsuckers from the Pack?"
I blinked... then shuddered involuntarily.
I hadn't spoken to the Cullens since they'd come back to school a week earlier. Angela and Jessica had been incredibly helpful, keeping me distracted and occasionally steering me away in the hallway as I'd tried to go towards Alice, who wore a consistently morose expression on her lovely face. The guilt that overcame me whenever I saw her was almost crippling, and it was only with help that I'd resisted the desire to comfort her and beg her forgiveness for my cold behavior.
And I'd only seen Edward from a distance. He didn't have any classes with me now and I'd started spending my lunch period studying in the library. I'd catch a glimpse of tousled hair and icy perfection every now and then, but we hadn't spoken or even come face to face.
I knew he was watching me, though. I could feel him.
"You can say no," Jacob added. "All Sam could do was order me to ask. You don't have to do it. You don't have to talk to them."
"No, I..." I forced myself to swallow. "I can do it."
"Bella, really--"
"I can do it, Jacob," I said again, my voice steadier. "What's the message?"
His grip tightened around my hand as he made an unhappy noise low in his throat. "Sam wants you to ask when they're leaving," he said reluctantly. "He says make sure to say when, not if. And he wants the information from the head of the coven, not from anyone else."
I frowned. "I'm not sure I'll be able to talk to Carlisle. I'd have to go to the hospital, and Charlie would want to know why. Can I just pass it along?"
Jake shook his head. "Sam wants the response from the source. So we can hold him to it without any misunderstandings." The last word was sarcastic; misunderstandings clearly meant reneged agreements or outright lies.
"Oh." I tried to think of something else that would work. "Um... what if they wrote it down? Could Carlisle send back a note or something?"
"Yeah, I guess that would make Sam happy."
"Okay." I frowned again. "Is there a reason I'm passing along notes like a second-grader? Can't they talk to each other directly?"
"Sam's still not sure he can phase on the fly if he needs to." Jake shrugged. "He's healed up and everything, but he's a little slow. And no one else can really speak for the Pack." His tone grew even more bitter. "Well, he said I could do it, but I'm not getting tricked into being Alpha that easily."
"Well, can't Sam just use a telephone like a normal person?"
A smirk crossed Jacob's face. "He tried that when they first came back. Had someone get the number from the hospital and everything. It didn't go well."
"How come?"
Jacob's smirk widened. "Ever heard a vampire on the telephone?"
"Yeah..." Now I was definitely confused. "They sounded normal."
"Well, not to us. Something about their voices through the wires... it's like nails on a chalkboard. Sam actually threw the receiver across the room." He grinned at the memory. "It was pretty funny. Emily was mad, though. But, yeah, phones don't work too great."
"Huh." I guessed you learned something new every day. Especially when surrounded by living myths.
Jacob's face turned dark again. "I don't..." He looked down, clearly trying to find the right words. His thumb rubbed lightly against a rough spot on the back of my hand. "I don't want you to talk to them," he said finally. "I don't like it. At all."
I didn't like it much either, but this wasn't the time to say that. "I'll be fine. It's just a little courier work. I'm pretty pathetic if I can't handle something that simple."
"You're not pathetic," Jacob snapped, his temper starting to show. He had trouble whenever we had to talk about me having contact with vampires; when I'd told him that the Cullens had finally returned to school he'd nearly phased right next to my dresser. "It has nothing to do with whether you can. I know you can. But they're monsters, Bella, and they're already trying to mess with you, and... and Sam shouldn't even be asking!"
"Quiet," I whispered, glancing nervously at my door. If Charlie woke up--
"He wouldn't be asking if it were Emily! He'd never let her within ten miles of a bloodsucker!"
"Jake!"
"Just because you're my imprint and not his he thinks he can use you however he wants and put you in danger if he decides it's--"
I pulled my hand free and clapped it over Jacob's mouth. "Shut up," I hissed.
Jacob stopped trying to speak instantly.
Oh no. I'd given an order.
I jerked away and shook my head. "I didn't mean it," I said quickly. "I didn't mean it. You can talk."
Jacob exhaled loud and long, looking frustrated. "I hate that," he muttered.
Guilt washed over me. "I know. I'm sorry. It was an accident, I swear."
"I know. I just hate that it's even something that can happen. And I hate that I get so ticked off, and I hate that you're around those leeches..." Jacob's mood was getting blacker by the moment. He looked up at me, a feverish expression on his face. "I wish you were coming to the rez," he said fervently. "It's just... hard to..."
I wound my hand back into his. "Yeah. I know." The little visits like this one took the edge off, but Jacob would be in better shape if we were spending more time together. We both would. "And about that... my favor."
"Yeah?"
"Do you think you can get Billy to come over here to talk to Charlie in person?"
Jacob groaned and flopped backward onto the bed. The mattress bounced creakily under his weight.
"I take it that's a 'no'," I said wryly.
"I'll ask again, but it's not going to do any good."
"Look, I know Billy can't tell Charlie the truth," I said. "I'm not asking that." Only a very, very few people knew that the teenagers of La Push were turning into werewolves: the wolves themselves, the Council of Elders -- which included Billy -- and the imprints. Everyone else was in the dark, even the wolves' family members. "But you said Billy might be able to get around the rules a little, and I think if he could just come here and... I don't know, make something up, just try to smooth things over--"
"He won't," Jacob grumbled. "I tried, but he's being stupid about it. He's not gonna do anything."
Something felt all wrong about the way Jake said that. I tried to look him in the eye, but he refused to meet my gaze, focusing intently on the ceiling instead. "Why not? Why won't he help?"
"Because he's a crazy old man who doesn't know what the hell he's talking about."
Jacob's resentful tone couldn't have been clearer. Billy didn't want to help because he disapproved.
"Oh," I whispered, lowering myself onto the bed, resting my cheek against the comforter. Of course Billy wouldn't approve. His only son, bound to a white girl with a tendency towards catatonic depression and ties to the natural enemies of the tribe--
Suddenly I was surrounded by Jacob's heated arms; he scooped me off the mattress and held me firmly against his chest, still keeping my hand in his. "It's not you, Bells," he said, kissing the top of my head.
"Uh-huh."
"It's not. Dad's just being an idiot 'cause he's still pissed at Becca. He'll figure that out sooner or later and pull his head out of his ass."
Huh? I looked up at Jacob's face. "What does Rebecca have to do with anything?" Jacob's twin sisters were about a year older than me. We'd played together when I'd come visit Charlie as a kid, but I hadn't seen either of them since my return to Forks. Rachel was in her second year of college; Rebecca was the wife of a Samoan surfer.
Jake kept staring at the ceiling. "She hasn't been back since she got married. That was almost two years ago."
"Oh." That was a shame, but I was still confused about how it affected the situation. "Well, plane tickets from Hawaii... that's got to be pretty expensive--"
"She hasn't come home 'cause Dad hit the roof when heard about it."
I blinked. "Heard about... you mean she didn't tell she was getting married?"
"Nope," he said bitterly. "She and Rachel saved up and went to Maui as a gift to themselves after graduation. Rebecca met the guy their first day there and they got married at the end of the week. She called Berkley and canceled her acceptance and her scholarship and we didn't find out 'til we picked up Rach at the airport."
My eyes widened. "Seriously?"
"Yeah. Dad totally lost it. He called Becca and shouted about how she'd thrown her whole future away, how ashamed he was, how Mom was rolling in her grave..." I felt Jacob's throat move as he swallowed, and I curled closer to his body. His embrace tightened automatically. "Anyway. So Becca doesn't talk to us and Rach won't come home either. And now this is going on with me and I'm, you know--"
"--sixteen," I finished for him, my stomach dropping. "Really young to be--"
"Yeah. Kinda stupid of him, since he married Mom right after graduation. And they'd been together since they were sixteen too." Jacob suddenly shifted next to me, as though he'd realized what he was implying. "But, I mean, imprinting's totally different," he added hastily. "I mean, it's not like you and I are going to run off and... plus it's not like we can help any of this..."
"Right," I said. I dropped my face back to his chest, needing to hide my expression. "Totally different."
"Exactly. Like I said, Dad's being an idiot. But he'll get over it, Bells, don't worry. Then he'll come talk to Charlie and find some way to calm him down and everything'll be fine."
"Yeah. Good." But my mind wasn't on Charlie anymore.
Sam and Emily's wedding was scheduled for October. There was no doubt in my mind that Jared, the only other wolf to imprint so far, would be engaged to Kim already if she wasn't a freshman in high school.
Now Billy was assuming...
Just when I thought things couldn't get any more complicated.
I didn't hear Jake's sigh, but I certainly felt it -- the way his chest rose and fell under my cheek, the way his exhale scorched the top of my head. "Sorry," he murmured. "I'm sorry about Billy. I'm sorry you're involved in all this."
Heat rose in me at the unhappiness in his voice. "I'm not," I said sharply. "I'm not sorry. I'm glad. I'm glad I'm in this with you." A familiar fierceness -- which turned up whenever I felt Jacob needed protecting -- rushed through my blood. This was the fire that made me break my hands on werewolves' faces and made me set vampires ablaze. "I'm glad you're not alone. And when I see your sisters again I'm going to slap them for leaving. Since I'm such a badass and everything."
No one got to put that look on his face.
Jacob took a shaky breath, and then he pulled me even closer -- close enough that I was on top of him instead of next to him, my legs tangling with his. "You're going to slap them, huh?" He had a smile in his voice.
I didn't feel like smiling. I was deadly serious. "You're damn right I am," I said, raising my chin and meeting his eyes. "No one's allowed to hurt you. You're mine."
The moment changed so fast it felt almost like a physical shift. Jacob's expression transformed; he was suddenly staring at me with his imprint look, deep and intense and open in its craving... and I didn't mind.
I welcomed it.
His free hand shoved roughly into my hair.
At first I thought for sure that he would kiss me, that this would finally be the repeat of what we'd shared on my front steps weeks ago -- but Jacob had something else in mind. Instead he tugged hard, tilting my head to the side. I inhaled sharply as he buried his face in my neck, trailing his hot mouth along my throat. It became very difficult to breathe.
He still hadn't let go of my hand, but I wasn't going to allow my newfound ability to touch be restrained. I yanked my fingers free from his, ignoring the pain as I ran them up his arm, something deep inside me purring with appreciation at the shape of his solid muscles. I liked that his shoulders were wide and strong. I liked the way his skin burned. I liked the way his body felt pressed against me, like it was supposed to be there.
My Jacob. My soul mate. Mine.
He must have been thinking something similar, because he bit firmly at my collarbone.
The sensation of his teeth against my flesh made the purring satisfaction grew louder until it shook me from the inside out. I was his as much as he was mine, he'd marked me and I would show it proudly and everyone would know who I belonged to--
--wait!
"Stop," I gasped. "Jake, stop!"
Jacob looked up, his eyes unfocused. "What?" he asked hazily.
I was already pulling away and sliding back onto the mattress. I felt like I'd be doused in ice water. "We shouldn't have done that," I moaned, trying to keep the panic out of my voice as I jumped out of bed. Oh no, what was going to happen now--
Jacob sat up, his expression confused for a moment -- until it was overcome with embarrassment and regret. "Oh, damn. Bella... crap, was that too much? I shouldn't have just-- I let it get away from me--"
"No, not that," I assured him quickly. I stood in front of my mirror, pushing my tangled hair to one side. "It's..."
Holy crow.
Right there, right at the juncture of my neck and shoulder, a huge bruise marked my pale skin. It had been left barely a minute ago and it was already turning a rich purple; I could even see individual teeth marks.
And I didn't own any turtlenecks.
Charlie.
I turned back to Jacob, my eyes wide. "I'm not going to be able to hide this," I whispered, horrorstruck.
Jake smirked for a half second... then the reality of the situation dawned on him. "Shit," he swore as he leapt up and crossed the room with a single stride. He lifted my chin with one finger, getting a better look at the damage. "Yeah, that's a tough one," he muttered. "I don't suppose you've got any cover-up or powder or something--"
I gave him a look.
"Right." He shook his head. "You. Makeup. Stupid question."
"No kidding." I turned back to the mirror, unable to believe what I was seeing. It was such a simple, normal, stereotypical teenage problem. Boy leaves hickey on girl; girl freaks out about her protective father seeing. Except this protective father had seen the girl before she went to bed and knew she had not had a hickey at that time. Also, this protective father owned guns.
I was completely screwed.
And Jacob was snickering.
I wheeled on him. "This isn't funny," I said sharply.
"Yeah it is."
"No it's not."
"C'mon, it's a little funny."
"You won't think so when Charlie boards up my window!"
"Bells, relax. Don't you have a scarf or something?"
"It's May!"
"You're a freeze baby, though. You wear sweaters when it's seventy-five degrees. You can get away with a scarf." Jake put an arm around my shoulder and pulled me close, giving me one of his thorough hugs that instantly made the world a better place to be. "It'll be fine," he said, still holding back a laugh. "But I won't do that again. I promise."
Something in me huffed with disappointment.
It wasn't until now, when we were both standing, that I felt the weariness in Jacob's arms as he wrapped them around me, felt the way his head rested a little too heavily on mine. "Jake? Are you not sleeping again?"
He hesitated, then sighed. I'd gotten very good at telling when he was fudging the truth and he knew it. "We're all on double duty," he admitted. "Now that the bloodsuckers are starting to move around the area again instead of just staying home... Some of them have come pretty close to the treaty line. We've got to make sure they stay the hell where they're supposed to."
"So that's a 'no', then."
"Don't worry about me, Bells."
"Yeah, right," I grumbled. I grabbed his hand again -- it felt so good to be able to do that, just take Jacob's hand if I wanted to, it was worth every single moment of discomfort -- and pulled him back towards the bed. "You can sleep now."
Jacob's shoulders slumped as he looked longingly at the pillows and blankets. "I can't," he said. "I was just supposed to stay long enough to deliver the message, then come back."
Disappointment flooded through me, fast and crippling. "Okay," I made myself say as I released his hand and sat down on the edge of the mattress. "Promise me you'll get some sleep the next time you have a free minute, though?" If Jacob made promises to me he had to keep them. Another imprint thing.
Jacob nodded. "I promise."
I suddenly felt very, very sad.
Tonight when he stepped forward, I didn't resist my urges. I wrapped my arms around his waist and rested my cheek against the muscles of his firm stomach, closing my eyes. An hour here and an hour there just wasn't enough; maybe it was greedy or clingy, but I needed more.
One hot hand cupped the back of my neck, pressing me closer. The other began to stroke my hair gently. "Bella," he whispered. "Bella, honey, I love you so much."
I nodded against his skin.
After a few more minutes -- though it could have been hours or mere seconds, it was hard to tell -- Jacob let go, stepping back. I released him and blinked back the tears that had formed unwillingly. "See you tomorrow, Bells." I didn't dare look up; if I saw his face I was going to beg him to stay with every ounce of power I held over him.
I curled on the mattress, holding off the shudder of cold that ran up my spine as Jacob left me.
***
Charlie gave me a weird look at breakfast. "Why are you wearing a scarf?"
I focused hard my toast, praying I wasn't turning too red. "It, um, matches," I said, displaying beat up leather glove on my left hand. Then I said the words guaranteed to keep my father from asking any more awkward questions. "It's a fashion thing."
"Oh. Right." Charlie nodded. "I see." And he went back to his cereal.
***
I skipped my library sojourn at lunch.
I can do this, I told myself sternly as I took a deep breath in the hallway. It's just a message. Not so bad. I can do this.
Right.
Angela and Jessica looked up in surprise when they saw me walk into the cafeteria, cutting off conversations with Mike and Ben and Eric -- and Lauren, who had apparently taken up residence in my old seat. Their surprise turned to clear consternation as I bypassed them to head towards the table near the far wall.
The Cullens' table.
I'd only gotten a few steps before Angela was standing next to me with a hold on my arm. "Come on, Bella," she said gently, trying to steer me away. "Remember? Utter humiliation?"
I shook my head. "It's fine."
"Utter humiliation, Bella."
"No, really. I just need to tell them something." But as I looked back at the three unnaturally exquisite faces, a shiver of fear and guilt and longing ran through me. "Um... if I'm not done in five minutes, one of you come and get me, okay? Drag me away if you have to."
Angela paused, then studied my face. Her brown eyes grew serious and... worried. "Bella... what's going on? Is this more than just a breakup?"
Keeping secrets was miserable, not to mention exhausting, but I didn't have any choice about it. "No," I said. "Nope. Just a breakup." The expression on Angela's face turned hurt, but she released my arm and went back to her table; I really needed to learn to lie better.
Jasper, Alice, and he watched me as I approached them. Every step I took, I felt myself being drawn closer, like I was attached by an invisible cord. I'm only here to deliver a message, I repeated in my head. I'm only here to deliver a message. I don't need anything else. I'm only here to deliver a message.
I was absolutely, completely terrified of myself.
Alice's pixie face glowed with happiness. "Bella! Hi!" Her windchime tones were even brighter than usual, like I was a prodigal daughter returned to the fold.
"Hi," I replied, gripping the back of a chair for support before I fell over.
"Sit down and have lunch with us," she said enthusiastically. "I missed you, we can--"
"I can't sit, Alice," I said, making an effort to keep my voice firm. It didn't really work -- I sounded like I was reading from a script -- but it was something. "I just need to pass along a message."
Alice's crestfallen expression was agonizing. I couldn't look at it.
I didn't dare turn to face him.
Instead I turned to Jasper, who watched me with studied neutrality. Even though he had tried to kill me last fall, I found him the least intimidating of the three now. At least there was nothing about him that drew me in... at least, no more than any other vampire.
No more than any other vampire. Sometimes I still missed Phoenix.
"Sam..." I faltered, and Jasper tilted his head to the side. I focused on him, ignoring the others. "Sam needs..." Should it be more formal than this? It felt like it should be more formal. This was business, after all.
Jasper nodded, silently urging me to continue. I didn't dare take a deep breath to calm my nerves; I was breathing as shallowly as I possibly could to keep the drugging scent out of my system, which was starting to make me lightheaded. Still, my heartbeat began to slow. I could do this. "The Alpha," I said more forcefully, "would like to... to hear from your coven leader..."
"You mean Carlisle?" Jasper said.
My face began to burn. "Yeah," I mumbled. "Carlisle. They want to know--" don't forget to emphasize "--when you'll be leaving. Sam would like a direct communication from Carlisle on the... you know, subject." I felt like a total idiot. "Something... um... official. Oh, and not by the phone, phones don't work. So, uh, a letter. Or something. Please."
There.
I heard the tiniest squeak from my right, and I knew Alice was trying not to laugh.
And I could feel him on my left, watching silently.
Jasper, however, seemed completely unaffected by my stumbling performance. "I will relay the communication, and we will have a response for you forthwith." His Southern accent became even more pronounced as he spoke. He nodded courteously. "Please convey our gratitude to the Alpha for making his request in such an appropriate and gentlemanly fashion."
I decided not to mention how Sam had thrown the phone.
"Okay," I said quickly, taking a step backward. "That's all. Thanks."
"You're not going to stay?" Alice asked, plaintive. I turned to look; her shoulders slumped elegantly. She was the picture of a dejected sprite, a fairy queen whose heart had been--
Stop.
"No," I managed, swallowing past the guilt and the longing. "No, I can't."
Then that voice spoke up, and I closed my eyes as his words caused pure liquid pleasure flowed through my body, filling my veins with sweet, cool bliss. "I can step out of the room if you would prefer, Bella." The angel's tone was despondent. "I know you would rather not speak to me. I wouldn't wish to stand between you and my sister."
I couldn't stop myself -- I turned to face Edward. The heartbreak I saw there was a thousand times worse than what I'd seen in Alice's expression.
My will began to cave.
"Don't go," I whispered. "You don't have to go. I don't want you to go."
"There's no need to lie to me, Bella." Every word he spoke was like music. "I've seen the minds of your friends. I hope that I've done enough to make your efforts to avoid me successful. I have made every effort to... stay away. The last thing I want is to cause you any more pain."
Why on earth would I ask him to stay away?
Then Edward's topaz gaze dropped from my face to my neck, and he froze, forgetting even to pretend to breathe. I brushed my throat... and felt where my wool scarf had slipped. Alice gasped in shock.
Well, Jacob would be happy that the 'bloodsuckers' had seen what he'd left on me, at least.
A muscle twitched in Edward's chiseled jaw. "You must be more careful, Bella," he growled as he stood up. Cold, tightly leased fury coiled through his words; even in his anger he was dazzling.
"It's not your business, Edward." My voice wavered, and the old wound in my chest began to throb miserably. "You and I... we're not..."
"Do you really think I am concerned about such petty trivialities as jealousy at a time like this?" he snarled. I'd forgotten how much taller than me he was. "Your life is at stake. Nothing is more important."
"Jacob would never--"
"They're nearly as strong as we are and have nothing like our self control. If you spoke the wrong word the child could tear you into pieces before he'd even realized what he'd done. And you would let him close enough to you to..." Edward's golden eyes blazed into mine. "How could you be so idiotically careless, Bella?"
Edward's disappointment felt like knives in my chest. "Stop," I whispered. "Don't, I'm sorry--"
"Edward," Alice hissed, glancing nervously around the room. We were gaining an audience. "You need to step outside, or..." She trailed off, but Edward flinched suddenly. He must have seen something in her mind that he didn't like, because he instantly stepped away from the table and stormed out of the side door into the misty air of the courtyard.
I felt the tears spill over and run down my cheeks.
"Bella," Alice said quietly, looking miserable, "please, you have to understand--"
"Hey, Bella!" A warm arm wrapped around my shoulders, quickly and forcibly turning me from the Cullens' table. "We've got this project we totally have to work on before sixth period," Jessica gushed. I noticed she wasn't unaffected either; her eyes were mostly on Alice, and her tone was kinder than I would have expected. But her response was nothing like mine. "Gotta steal her, sorry!"
"Can we go to the library?" I whispered as Jessica steered me away. "I don't want to stay in here."
"Yeah, sure." Jessica gave me a weird look as I wiped my tears away with my finger. "Wow. He really does do a number on you, doesn't he?"
I nodded.
"What a tool," she said breezily. As we walked out the double doors, she reached up and readjusted my scarf, snickering. "Great hickey, by the way. Scarves are such a rookie move. Don't you have any foundation?"
I met Jessica's smirk and somehow, to my utter surprise, I found myself almost smiling.
***
Chapter Three: Riposte
Sanity Update: For burn care information I took a page from the Stephenie Meyer School of Research -- by which I mean I asked Google. My apologies for mistakes, but I had to stop looking after I clicked on Image Search for "second degree burns". *shudder* Also, yeah, I know in New Moon Jacob talked to Carlisle on the phone and it worked perfectly fine. I'm making just the merest hint of a canon change on that one... because it amuses me. So there. As a side note, Reasoning With Vampires' "we're entering serious psychological fuckery, kids" tag is extremely useful in Cullen-writing.
Updated to add: gypseian 's podfic of this chapter is available here for listening and/or download.
Author: audreyii_fic
Fandom: Twilight (Team Jacob)
Rating: T
Characters: Full cast (Jacob/Bella, Sam/Emily)
Genre: Romance/Angst/Wolfpack!Humor
Warnings: Language, violence, and references to adult behavior. See here for more details.
banner courtesy of untilwebleedoz
Summary:
Sequel to The Movement of the Earth. Bella finds the cost of joining the supernatural world may be higher than she can pay. ( Click here to start from the beginning.)
Chapter Two:
the northwest mist is rising strong in the valley where i wait / i had sworn to keep you safe
Olivia Chrestomanci, "Red"
2. Message
"Okay." The doctor, an old man with jowls that hung past his chin, moved the lamp closer to my arm. "Now make a fist."
I curled the fingers of my left hand into my palm. The healing skin burned as it pulled against my knuckles, and the joints were stiff and creaky. There was also a deep, persistent itch that felt like it was coming from my muscles.
"Do you feel anything?"
"Kind of." I touched the pad of my left index finger with my right. "The sensation's all sort of... fuzzy. But I can feel it."
"Does it hurt?"
"Not really."
"Does it itch?"
"Yes."
The doctor had the nerve to smile at me. "Well, don't scratch it."
My glare was probably as blazing as the flames that had burned me in the first place. "I'll do my best," I said sarcastically.
"Glad to hear it." The doctor rolled his stool away from the examining table and pulled a prescription pad out of his desk. "I have good news: it's time to give up the gauze."
I blinked. "Are you sure?" It wasn't like I wasn't anxious to get some basic manual dexterity back -- and I still had two weeks before the cast on my right wrist was scheduled to come off -- but... "It still doesn't feel right."
"I'm refilling your pain medication and your antibiotic cream," the doctor said, scribbling. "But if you don't stretch the scar tissue as it heals, you may not regain full mobility."
I looked suspiciously at my hand, then flexed it again. I could see what he meant -- everything felt tight. "It's not going to... tear or anything, will it?"
"You'll need to be careful. Keep drinking lots of water; rub cocoa butter in twice daily. If the skin splits at any point, re-bandage for a few days and use the antibiotic cream. If you begin to run a fever, or if there's any sign of pus or drainage, come back to see me right away."
Any sign of pus or drainage. My stomach turned.
"And during the day," the doctor added, "I recommend wearing a leather glove to minimize accidental rough contact." He tore off the prescription and handed it to me. "Go to Port Angeles and get a pretty one; you'll be wearing it for the next two months. And no scratching."
Wonderful.
***
Papers were spread out all over the kitchen table. "This one is asking for your transcripts, where are they?"
"The school has to send them directly." I leafed through the pages of the Penninsula Tuition and Fees information. If I took a full course load I'd be paying over a thousand dollars a semester. My savings account barely held enough for my first year, and it wasn't getting any better any time soon since I'd had to take leave from Newton's Outfitters; you can't really stock shelves when you can't use your hands. "There's a request form in there somewhere."
Charlie narrowed his eyes at the admission application. "Why can't you get the transcript yourself?"
"They don't want me to forge it."
"Ah." He scanned further down the page, making a couple of marks here and there. I still wouldn't be able to write until the cast came off -- and even then I'd been warned me that I might have trouble handling a pencil for awhile, given the way I'd broken my finger when I 'fell out of bed'.
The fact that my hand had been broken punching a werewolf was another tidbit of information I was keeping to myself.
"Okay. What about your GPA?"
I winced and told him.
"Really?" Charlie looked appalled. "Bells, I thought you were near the top of your class--"
"I was," I said bitterly. "I... didn't do well last fall." That was an understatement. In my numb state I'd thought I'd been keeping up with my schoolwork; when the new class rankings had been posted a few weeks ago I'd nearly fainted on the spot. Turns out you can undo three years of consistently above-average work in a single semester of zombiehood. And while my grades would be better this spring -- being that I was awake now and had Mike's chemistry 'help' -- they would only be enough to scrape through my required courses. I stood no chance of repairing my academic record before graduation.
Hence the community college application.
Charlie looked at the paper without seeing it, his eyebrows coming together. "I didn't know," he said roughly. "I didn't know you were failing."
"I didn't know either."
"I didn't ask--"
"I wouldn't have answered."
The pencil snapped in my father's hand as he brought his fist down on the table.
We were silent for a long moment.
"Look," I said finally, making an effort to keep my tone light, "it's better this way. Community college is cheaper, so I'll have fewer student loans. I'll just take all my 101 courses at Penninsula and keep my grades up, then in a couple of years I can transfer to U-Dub and finish out there. No big deal."
"U-Dub," Charlie said contemptuously.
I frowned. "Yeah, U-Dub. What's wrong with that? You went there. Mom went there. Lots of people go there. It's a good school."
"Yeah, but... Bells, you've always been so smart." He kept glaring at the admission application, like it was at fault for all of this. "I mean, you were reading these big, thick books by the time you were six. Your mom would call and tell me how you'd won first place in the science fair and got a ribbon in the spelling bee and... You should be going to Yale or Princeton or something, not the University of Washington."
Yale. Or Princeton.
I couldn't believe how much Charlie's words hurt. My heart felt like it was being squeezed into pulp. "You're disappointed in me," I breathed, my eyes filling with tears.
He looked up sharply. "No, Bella-- I'm not-- It's just that if I'd taken you to a doctor last fall you'd have a medical note to go with all this stuff and it could've, I don't know, made a difference with the admissions boards or something--"
"Not that much of a difference," I said. I tried to smile. "Besides, I didn't want to go to Yale or Princeton anyhow. All those Ivy Leagues are a really long way from Forks."
When I said that, Charlie's expression warmed; his lips twitched before he looked back down at the paper, reaching for a new pencil. A very tiny blush started on his cheeks. Charlie was even worse with emotions than me, and that was saying something. "So, what about this 'household income' stuff?" he continued brusquely.
"Oh, that." I glanced over at the list of information. "It's for financial aid, I think."
"Is it supposed to be my income or yours?"
"Both, I guess, since I'm living here. I'm making about four thousand a year at Newton's, so just add that onto your salary and that should be right."
The little blush spread from his cheeks to his nose. "So you're going to keep living here with me?"
Oh. This was about to get awkward. "Well..." I bit my lip. "That, um, kind of depends. On some things."
There was a long silence -- then Charlie's expression turned thunderous. "No."
"Dad, listen, I know what it looks like--"
"No."
"They didn't really do anything wrong--"
"No!"
Whether or not I would be living with Charlie this fall hinged on a deal I'd made with Jacob. If Jake had had his way I would've left Forks the night the Cullens returned; he wanted me safe behind the treaty line established a century ago between Carlisle, Edward's adoptive father, and Ephraim Black, Jacob's great-grandfather. Vampires were not permitted on the tribal lands, and all of Jacob's instincts told him to get his imprint as far away from the 'bloodsuckers' as possible.
But I'd refused. I'd refused for Charlie. I couldn't bear to hurt my father that badly, to just disappear in the middle of the night and go running off to live with a group of people he considered to be a gang at best, a cult at worst, and dangerous either way.
So we'd struck a compromise. I had until graduation for things to get better. Ideally that would mean the Cullens had picked up and left, but Jacob would probably settle for Charlie allowing me free and frequent access to La Push, where I'd be away from potential vampiric influence. If things didn't get better I would move to the reservation as soon as school was over. I'd given Jacob my word.
Given Charlie's current intractability about the 'gang' and anyone he believed was protecting them, it didn't look like I'd be living in Forks for much longer.
"Please, Dad," I tried again. I hadn't pushed this hard before, but being patient hadn't gotten me anywhere in the last few weeks. "It's not as bad as you think it is--"
"The hell it's not."
"Just call Billy, let him explain--"
"I don't want to hear anything Billy Black has to say."
"I know you miss him--"
"I don't."
"Harry would have hated that you two were fighting!" I said desperately.
Charlie flinched. He, Harry, and Billy had been best friends. The three of them had known each other since they were little; their first children were all born in the same eighteen months; they'd gotten together for fishing or football or something almost every weekend that I could remember. Now Harry was dead and Charlie didn't trust Billy enough to pick up the phone.
"If Harry's kids had been in danger," Charlie said, his voice carefully controlled, "he'd do the exact same thing I'm doing."
I wasn't so certain about that, given that both of Harry's kids were now werewolves. "Dad, if you two just talked, I think maybe you would see that things--"
"We'll finish the application later, Bella." Charlie's heavy boots thudded against the floor as he walked from the kitchen.
I sighed.
***
I laid in bed examining my newly-exposed hand in the lamplight.
It didn't look good. There was no way to sugarcoat that fact. The skin was a wrinkled pink on the parts that were the least healed; the more recovered areas, mostly on the palm, were dark and mottled. My fingers looked almost as if they were wrapped in cellophane. The greyish fingernails hadn't grown at all in the month since the injury. And over everything there were white blotches of scar tissue that looked almost... melted.
Ugly. Very, very ugly.
But, somehow, I didn't feel ashamed of the ugliness. Looking at my hand -- my deformed, but not ruined hand -- reminded me of how it had become this way. I'd killed a vampire. I'd set Victoria on fire and in the process I'd saved Jacob's life, as well as my own. I wasn't so useless after all and I had the battle scars to prove it.
If only it didn't itch so much.
I heard a familiar soft tap of knuckles against the windowpane. "Hey, Jake," I whispered, knowing he could hear me with his keen senses.
Jake hopped in and closed the window without a sound. I envied his gracefulness, considering that once we'd bonded over how we were both clumsy. "Hey, Bells," he said. He was shirtless and shoeless as always, and his eyes widened as he came forward. We were well past polite small talk starters like How are you and What's going on; Jake always jumped right into the middle of conversations. Like commenting on my hand. "Whoa! You're free!"
"Halfway, anyhow." I flushed and tried to hide my arm under the blanket, the pride I'd felt just moments ago vanishing in a hurry and leaving insecurity in its wake. Looking at the scars by myself was one thing; it was different now that someone else would see. And not just anyone else. Jacob.
I didn't want to be ugly in Jacob's eyes... even though I knew I couldn't be. It wasn't possible.
Somehow that made things worse.
Jake sat down on the edge of my bed; his insane body heat warmed me even from a few feet away. His black eyebrows came together as I pulled the blanket higher with my thumb and forefinger. "I can't look?" he asked, confused.
I hesitated, instinctively wanting to stay hidden. But it wasn't like I could just keep my hand wrapped in the comforter forever. "I'm really gross," I warned.
"You're beautiful, Bella." His words were sincere -- and automatic.
"Like Emily's beautiful?" I shot back. Emily Young was Sam's imprint... and Sam thought she was beautiful when she was anything but. He wasn't even looking past her terrible scars to see the beauty within. Sam literally couldn't see the hard truth: Emily was a wonderful person, but her mangled face had rendered her difficult to look at.
Judging by Jacob's expression, he didn't like being reminded that his opinion of me might be influenced by the imprint.
A deep frown on his face, Jake reached forward and tugged firmly at the covers. I let him pull the blanket off my body, let him grasp my forearm and draw me towards him. I raised myself to my knees, my pajama pants riding a little lower than I liked, a deep blush creeping over my face.
Jacob took in the same mottled brown splotches and melted pink skin and puckered white scar tissue I'd been examining a few minutes earlier. He opened his mouth, then shut it and swallowed hard, seeming to concentrate.
I waited.
Finally he looked up at me. "Yeah, it's pretty messed up," he said casually -- though the words obviously took some effort for him to form. A tiny smile pulled at the corners of his mouth. "But it's also kinda cool."
Somehow he'd hit on exactly the right response. "Really?" I said, feeling a little less self-conscious.
"Oh, yeah." His tone was completely serious. "Just wait; once it's healed you can add some tattoos. Then it'll officially be awesome."
"Tattoos? Like what?"
"I dunno. A lighter maybe. Or a stake. Or maybe just Victoria's name, all crossed out like she was your ex-lover or something--"
I whacked him with my cast so he wouldn't hear the giggle about to escape my chest. "That's terrible. What about my reputation?"
"Eh, your reputation could use a little spicing up," Jake said with a grin. "More people should know how badass you are."
I ducked my head, trying and probably failing to hide my embarrassed pleasure. "Bella Swan, badass. Right."
"Hey, a few more motorbike lessons and I think you can officially join Hells Angels."
"You are so full of it, Jacob Black."
"Yeah, I know." His eyes were back on my hand; his thumb rubbed circles where he held onto my arm. "Is it okay to touch?"
I nodded my head. "It's kind of numb, but it's safe. I'm just not allowed to scratch."
He turned my wrist over gently. I held my breath for a long moment as he hesitated, then drew the callused pads of his fingers along the flesh of my palm. I shivered, and he pulled back quickly. "Did I hurt you?" he asked, anxious.
"No." If there was an opposite of hurting, it was Jacob's touch. "I felt that, though."
"You did?"
"Yeah."
"Good." He narrowed his eyes and studied my hand again. It was very similar to the look he used to get when he was working on some particularly tricky part of the Rabbit's engine. Suddenly his face lit up. "Hey!" he exclaimed. I shushed him, and he gave me a sheepish look. "Sorry, Bells. But look." He traced a semi-circle along my palm. "Your lifeline is still there."
I blinked in surprise, then leaned down so I could see, since Jacob didn't seem willing to release my arm any time soon. Most of the creases and swirls of my hand had disappeared under the repairing flesh, but Jake was right -- my lifeline was still in evidence. "I think it's gotten shorter," I remarked.
Jacob shot me a dirty look. "Has not. Don't say that."
"Since when are you superstitious?"
"Since I became a werewolf and discovered there's a whole lot of mystical crap I didn't know existed," he said seriously. "So no joking about shortened lifelines."
"Okay, okay, fine." I shook my head, then did what I hadn't been able to do since a night at a movie theater what seemed like years ago -- I threaded my fingers through Jake's and squeezed. The skin pulled uncomfortably, but the warmth that seemed to settle deep into my bones more than made up for it.
I was holding Jacob Black's hand again.
Jacob released a long breath. "God, I've missed this, Bells." His voice was thick.
"Same here." It felt like something disjointed inside me had clicked back into place. I was supposed to be holding Jacob's hand. This was as it should be. It even seemed to ease the itching a little. Plus... "Well, now we're definitely a go for prom night."
Jake looked up in surprise. "I didn't realize we hadn't been," he said suspiciously.
"No, we were," I assured him. "I was definitely coming over for movies and stuff and... yeah. But, now..." My face had to be neon red. I probably glowed in the darkness. "I mean, it would've been really unfair if you had two hands and I didn't have any..."
Prom night had more or less become code between us. Before anything had happened -- back when our relationship had been progressing on a natural, non-supernatural course -- Jacob had planned to ask me to prom, knowing I would refuse based on my distaste for all things involving dresses or dancing, which would lead into his real plan of us spending the evening at his house watching movies as he worked up the nerve to kiss me for the first time.
Obviously, circumstances had changed. Things were no longer progressing on a natural course. We'd already kissed -- thoroughly. But prom night was still in the works, and... given the givens... depending on where we stood... it was entirely possible that while it wouldn't be our first kiss, there might be a few other firsts. Maybe.
Those firsts would absolutely require functional hands.
Jacob was gaping at me. We'd sort of talked about this before, but the discussion had been shelved until an indeterminate 'later'. "Okay," he said after a long moment. "I'm going to crush up, like, ten Xanax and put them in Billy's water glass that night."
"You have Xanax?"
"I can get some."
Billy. That reminded me. "Jake, can I ask you a favor?"
To my surprise, a bitter expression crossed Jacob's face, his mood suddenly turning sour. He looked down at our joined hands. "Yeah, but I've got to ask you one first," he said through gritted teeth.
A little flare of temper shot through my veins -- only orders from Sam made Jacob act like this. "Sure. What is it?"
Jake grimaced. He clearly had no choice about the next words that came out of his mouth. "Will you give a message to the bloodsuckers from the Pack?"
I blinked... then shuddered involuntarily.
I hadn't spoken to the Cullens since they'd come back to school a week earlier. Angela and Jessica had been incredibly helpful, keeping me distracted and occasionally steering me away in the hallway as I'd tried to go towards Alice, who wore a consistently morose expression on her lovely face. The guilt that overcame me whenever I saw her was almost crippling, and it was only with help that I'd resisted the desire to comfort her and beg her forgiveness for my cold behavior.
And I'd only seen Edward from a distance. He didn't have any classes with me now and I'd started spending my lunch period studying in the library. I'd catch a glimpse of tousled hair and icy perfection every now and then, but we hadn't spoken or even come face to face.
I knew he was watching me, though. I could feel him.
"You can say no," Jacob added. "All Sam could do was order me to ask. You don't have to do it. You don't have to talk to them."
"No, I..." I forced myself to swallow. "I can do it."
"Bella, really--"
"I can do it, Jacob," I said again, my voice steadier. "What's the message?"
His grip tightened around my hand as he made an unhappy noise low in his throat. "Sam wants you to ask when they're leaving," he said reluctantly. "He says make sure to say when, not if. And he wants the information from the head of the coven, not from anyone else."
I frowned. "I'm not sure I'll be able to talk to Carlisle. I'd have to go to the hospital, and Charlie would want to know why. Can I just pass it along?"
Jake shook his head. "Sam wants the response from the source. So we can hold him to it without any misunderstandings." The last word was sarcastic; misunderstandings clearly meant reneged agreements or outright lies.
"Oh." I tried to think of something else that would work. "Um... what if they wrote it down? Could Carlisle send back a note or something?"
"Yeah, I guess that would make Sam happy."
"Okay." I frowned again. "Is there a reason I'm passing along notes like a second-grader? Can't they talk to each other directly?"
"Sam's still not sure he can phase on the fly if he needs to." Jake shrugged. "He's healed up and everything, but he's a little slow. And no one else can really speak for the Pack." His tone grew even more bitter. "Well, he said I could do it, but I'm not getting tricked into being Alpha that easily."
"Well, can't Sam just use a telephone like a normal person?"
A smirk crossed Jacob's face. "He tried that when they first came back. Had someone get the number from the hospital and everything. It didn't go well."
"How come?"
Jacob's smirk widened. "Ever heard a vampire on the telephone?"
"Yeah..." Now I was definitely confused. "They sounded normal."
"Well, not to us. Something about their voices through the wires... it's like nails on a chalkboard. Sam actually threw the receiver across the room." He grinned at the memory. "It was pretty funny. Emily was mad, though. But, yeah, phones don't work too great."
"Huh." I guessed you learned something new every day. Especially when surrounded by living myths.
Jacob's face turned dark again. "I don't..." He looked down, clearly trying to find the right words. His thumb rubbed lightly against a rough spot on the back of my hand. "I don't want you to talk to them," he said finally. "I don't like it. At all."
I didn't like it much either, but this wasn't the time to say that. "I'll be fine. It's just a little courier work. I'm pretty pathetic if I can't handle something that simple."
"You're not pathetic," Jacob snapped, his temper starting to show. He had trouble whenever we had to talk about me having contact with vampires; when I'd told him that the Cullens had finally returned to school he'd nearly phased right next to my dresser. "It has nothing to do with whether you can. I know you can. But they're monsters, Bella, and they're already trying to mess with you, and... and Sam shouldn't even be asking!"
"Quiet," I whispered, glancing nervously at my door. If Charlie woke up--
"He wouldn't be asking if it were Emily! He'd never let her within ten miles of a bloodsucker!"
"Jake!"
"Just because you're my imprint and not his he thinks he can use you however he wants and put you in danger if he decides it's--"
I pulled my hand free and clapped it over Jacob's mouth. "Shut up," I hissed.
Jacob stopped trying to speak instantly.
Oh no. I'd given an order.
I jerked away and shook my head. "I didn't mean it," I said quickly. "I didn't mean it. You can talk."
Jacob exhaled loud and long, looking frustrated. "I hate that," he muttered.
Guilt washed over me. "I know. I'm sorry. It was an accident, I swear."
"I know. I just hate that it's even something that can happen. And I hate that I get so ticked off, and I hate that you're around those leeches..." Jacob's mood was getting blacker by the moment. He looked up at me, a feverish expression on his face. "I wish you were coming to the rez," he said fervently. "It's just... hard to..."
I wound my hand back into his. "Yeah. I know." The little visits like this one took the edge off, but Jacob would be in better shape if we were spending more time together. We both would. "And about that... my favor."
"Yeah?"
"Do you think you can get Billy to come over here to talk to Charlie in person?"
Jacob groaned and flopped backward onto the bed. The mattress bounced creakily under his weight.
"I take it that's a 'no'," I said wryly.
"I'll ask again, but it's not going to do any good."
"Look, I know Billy can't tell Charlie the truth," I said. "I'm not asking that." Only a very, very few people knew that the teenagers of La Push were turning into werewolves: the wolves themselves, the Council of Elders -- which included Billy -- and the imprints. Everyone else was in the dark, even the wolves' family members. "But you said Billy might be able to get around the rules a little, and I think if he could just come here and... I don't know, make something up, just try to smooth things over--"
"He won't," Jacob grumbled. "I tried, but he's being stupid about it. He's not gonna do anything."
Something felt all wrong about the way Jake said that. I tried to look him in the eye, but he refused to meet my gaze, focusing intently on the ceiling instead. "Why not? Why won't he help?"
"Because he's a crazy old man who doesn't know what the hell he's talking about."
Jacob's resentful tone couldn't have been clearer. Billy didn't want to help because he disapproved.
"Oh," I whispered, lowering myself onto the bed, resting my cheek against the comforter. Of course Billy wouldn't approve. His only son, bound to a white girl with a tendency towards catatonic depression and ties to the natural enemies of the tribe--
Suddenly I was surrounded by Jacob's heated arms; he scooped me off the mattress and held me firmly against his chest, still keeping my hand in his. "It's not you, Bells," he said, kissing the top of my head.
"Uh-huh."
"It's not. Dad's just being an idiot 'cause he's still pissed at Becca. He'll figure that out sooner or later and pull his head out of his ass."
Huh? I looked up at Jacob's face. "What does Rebecca have to do with anything?" Jacob's twin sisters were about a year older than me. We'd played together when I'd come visit Charlie as a kid, but I hadn't seen either of them since my return to Forks. Rachel was in her second year of college; Rebecca was the wife of a Samoan surfer.
Jake kept staring at the ceiling. "She hasn't been back since she got married. That was almost two years ago."
"Oh." That was a shame, but I was still confused about how it affected the situation. "Well, plane tickets from Hawaii... that's got to be pretty expensive--"
"She hasn't come home 'cause Dad hit the roof when heard about it."
I blinked. "Heard about... you mean she didn't tell she was getting married?"
"Nope," he said bitterly. "She and Rachel saved up and went to Maui as a gift to themselves after graduation. Rebecca met the guy their first day there and they got married at the end of the week. She called Berkley and canceled her acceptance and her scholarship and we didn't find out 'til we picked up Rach at the airport."
My eyes widened. "Seriously?"
"Yeah. Dad totally lost it. He called Becca and shouted about how she'd thrown her whole future away, how ashamed he was, how Mom was rolling in her grave..." I felt Jacob's throat move as he swallowed, and I curled closer to his body. His embrace tightened automatically. "Anyway. So Becca doesn't talk to us and Rach won't come home either. And now this is going on with me and I'm, you know--"
"--sixteen," I finished for him, my stomach dropping. "Really young to be--"
"Yeah. Kinda stupid of him, since he married Mom right after graduation. And they'd been together since they were sixteen too." Jacob suddenly shifted next to me, as though he'd realized what he was implying. "But, I mean, imprinting's totally different," he added hastily. "I mean, it's not like you and I are going to run off and... plus it's not like we can help any of this..."
"Right," I said. I dropped my face back to his chest, needing to hide my expression. "Totally different."
"Exactly. Like I said, Dad's being an idiot. But he'll get over it, Bells, don't worry. Then he'll come talk to Charlie and find some way to calm him down and everything'll be fine."
"Yeah. Good." But my mind wasn't on Charlie anymore.
Sam and Emily's wedding was scheduled for October. There was no doubt in my mind that Jared, the only other wolf to imprint so far, would be engaged to Kim already if she wasn't a freshman in high school.
Now Billy was assuming...
Just when I thought things couldn't get any more complicated.
I didn't hear Jake's sigh, but I certainly felt it -- the way his chest rose and fell under my cheek, the way his exhale scorched the top of my head. "Sorry," he murmured. "I'm sorry about Billy. I'm sorry you're involved in all this."
Heat rose in me at the unhappiness in his voice. "I'm not," I said sharply. "I'm not sorry. I'm glad. I'm glad I'm in this with you." A familiar fierceness -- which turned up whenever I felt Jacob needed protecting -- rushed through my blood. This was the fire that made me break my hands on werewolves' faces and made me set vampires ablaze. "I'm glad you're not alone. And when I see your sisters again I'm going to slap them for leaving. Since I'm such a badass and everything."
No one got to put that look on his face.
Jacob took a shaky breath, and then he pulled me even closer -- close enough that I was on top of him instead of next to him, my legs tangling with his. "You're going to slap them, huh?" He had a smile in his voice.
I didn't feel like smiling. I was deadly serious. "You're damn right I am," I said, raising my chin and meeting his eyes. "No one's allowed to hurt you. You're mine."
The moment changed so fast it felt almost like a physical shift. Jacob's expression transformed; he was suddenly staring at me with his imprint look, deep and intense and open in its craving... and I didn't mind.
I welcomed it.
His free hand shoved roughly into my hair.
At first I thought for sure that he would kiss me, that this would finally be the repeat of what we'd shared on my front steps weeks ago -- but Jacob had something else in mind. Instead he tugged hard, tilting my head to the side. I inhaled sharply as he buried his face in my neck, trailing his hot mouth along my throat. It became very difficult to breathe.
He still hadn't let go of my hand, but I wasn't going to allow my newfound ability to touch be restrained. I yanked my fingers free from his, ignoring the pain as I ran them up his arm, something deep inside me purring with appreciation at the shape of his solid muscles. I liked that his shoulders were wide and strong. I liked the way his skin burned. I liked the way his body felt pressed against me, like it was supposed to be there.
My Jacob. My soul mate. Mine.
He must have been thinking something similar, because he bit firmly at my collarbone.
The sensation of his teeth against my flesh made the purring satisfaction grew louder until it shook me from the inside out. I was his as much as he was mine, he'd marked me and I would show it proudly and everyone would know who I belonged to--
--wait!
"Stop," I gasped. "Jake, stop!"
Jacob looked up, his eyes unfocused. "What?" he asked hazily.
I was already pulling away and sliding back onto the mattress. I felt like I'd be doused in ice water. "We shouldn't have done that," I moaned, trying to keep the panic out of my voice as I jumped out of bed. Oh no, what was going to happen now--
Jacob sat up, his expression confused for a moment -- until it was overcome with embarrassment and regret. "Oh, damn. Bella... crap, was that too much? I shouldn't have just-- I let it get away from me--"
"No, not that," I assured him quickly. I stood in front of my mirror, pushing my tangled hair to one side. "It's..."
Holy crow.
Right there, right at the juncture of my neck and shoulder, a huge bruise marked my pale skin. It had been left barely a minute ago and it was already turning a rich purple; I could even see individual teeth marks.
And I didn't own any turtlenecks.
Charlie.
I turned back to Jacob, my eyes wide. "I'm not going to be able to hide this," I whispered, horrorstruck.
Jake smirked for a half second... then the reality of the situation dawned on him. "Shit," he swore as he leapt up and crossed the room with a single stride. He lifted my chin with one finger, getting a better look at the damage. "Yeah, that's a tough one," he muttered. "I don't suppose you've got any cover-up or powder or something--"
I gave him a look.
"Right." He shook his head. "You. Makeup. Stupid question."
"No kidding." I turned back to the mirror, unable to believe what I was seeing. It was such a simple, normal, stereotypical teenage problem. Boy leaves hickey on girl; girl freaks out about her protective father seeing. Except this protective father had seen the girl before she went to bed and knew she had not had a hickey at that time. Also, this protective father owned guns.
I was completely screwed.
And Jacob was snickering.
I wheeled on him. "This isn't funny," I said sharply.
"Yeah it is."
"No it's not."
"C'mon, it's a little funny."
"You won't think so when Charlie boards up my window!"
"Bells, relax. Don't you have a scarf or something?"
"It's May!"
"You're a freeze baby, though. You wear sweaters when it's seventy-five degrees. You can get away with a scarf." Jake put an arm around my shoulder and pulled me close, giving me one of his thorough hugs that instantly made the world a better place to be. "It'll be fine," he said, still holding back a laugh. "But I won't do that again. I promise."
Something in me huffed with disappointment.
It wasn't until now, when we were both standing, that I felt the weariness in Jacob's arms as he wrapped them around me, felt the way his head rested a little too heavily on mine. "Jake? Are you not sleeping again?"
He hesitated, then sighed. I'd gotten very good at telling when he was fudging the truth and he knew it. "We're all on double duty," he admitted. "Now that the bloodsuckers are starting to move around the area again instead of just staying home... Some of them have come pretty close to the treaty line. We've got to make sure they stay the hell where they're supposed to."
"So that's a 'no', then."
"Don't worry about me, Bells."
"Yeah, right," I grumbled. I grabbed his hand again -- it felt so good to be able to do that, just take Jacob's hand if I wanted to, it was worth every single moment of discomfort -- and pulled him back towards the bed. "You can sleep now."
Jacob's shoulders slumped as he looked longingly at the pillows and blankets. "I can't," he said. "I was just supposed to stay long enough to deliver the message, then come back."
Disappointment flooded through me, fast and crippling. "Okay," I made myself say as I released his hand and sat down on the edge of the mattress. "Promise me you'll get some sleep the next time you have a free minute, though?" If Jacob made promises to me he had to keep them. Another imprint thing.
Jacob nodded. "I promise."
I suddenly felt very, very sad.
Tonight when he stepped forward, I didn't resist my urges. I wrapped my arms around his waist and rested my cheek against the muscles of his firm stomach, closing my eyes. An hour here and an hour there just wasn't enough; maybe it was greedy or clingy, but I needed more.
One hot hand cupped the back of my neck, pressing me closer. The other began to stroke my hair gently. "Bella," he whispered. "Bella, honey, I love you so much."
I nodded against his skin.
After a few more minutes -- though it could have been hours or mere seconds, it was hard to tell -- Jacob let go, stepping back. I released him and blinked back the tears that had formed unwillingly. "See you tomorrow, Bells." I didn't dare look up; if I saw his face I was going to beg him to stay with every ounce of power I held over him.
I curled on the mattress, holding off the shudder of cold that ran up my spine as Jacob left me.
***
Charlie gave me a weird look at breakfast. "Why are you wearing a scarf?"
I focused hard my toast, praying I wasn't turning too red. "It, um, matches," I said, displaying beat up leather glove on my left hand. Then I said the words guaranteed to keep my father from asking any more awkward questions. "It's a fashion thing."
"Oh. Right." Charlie nodded. "I see." And he went back to his cereal.
***
I skipped my library sojourn at lunch.
I can do this, I told myself sternly as I took a deep breath in the hallway. It's just a message. Not so bad. I can do this.
Right.
Angela and Jessica looked up in surprise when they saw me walk into the cafeteria, cutting off conversations with Mike and Ben and Eric -- and Lauren, who had apparently taken up residence in my old seat. Their surprise turned to clear consternation as I bypassed them to head towards the table near the far wall.
The Cullens' table.
I'd only gotten a few steps before Angela was standing next to me with a hold on my arm. "Come on, Bella," she said gently, trying to steer me away. "Remember? Utter humiliation?"
I shook my head. "It's fine."
"Utter humiliation, Bella."
"No, really. I just need to tell them something." But as I looked back at the three unnaturally exquisite faces, a shiver of fear and guilt and longing ran through me. "Um... if I'm not done in five minutes, one of you come and get me, okay? Drag me away if you have to."
Angela paused, then studied my face. Her brown eyes grew serious and... worried. "Bella... what's going on? Is this more than just a breakup?"
Keeping secrets was miserable, not to mention exhausting, but I didn't have any choice about it. "No," I said. "Nope. Just a breakup." The expression on Angela's face turned hurt, but she released my arm and went back to her table; I really needed to learn to lie better.
Jasper, Alice, and he watched me as I approached them. Every step I took, I felt myself being drawn closer, like I was attached by an invisible cord. I'm only here to deliver a message, I repeated in my head. I'm only here to deliver a message. I don't need anything else. I'm only here to deliver a message.
I was absolutely, completely terrified of myself.
Alice's pixie face glowed with happiness. "Bella! Hi!" Her windchime tones were even brighter than usual, like I was a prodigal daughter returned to the fold.
"Hi," I replied, gripping the back of a chair for support before I fell over.
"Sit down and have lunch with us," she said enthusiastically. "I missed you, we can--"
"I can't sit, Alice," I said, making an effort to keep my voice firm. It didn't really work -- I sounded like I was reading from a script -- but it was something. "I just need to pass along a message."
Alice's crestfallen expression was agonizing. I couldn't look at it.
I didn't dare turn to face him.
Instead I turned to Jasper, who watched me with studied neutrality. Even though he had tried to kill me last fall, I found him the least intimidating of the three now. At least there was nothing about him that drew me in... at least, no more than any other vampire.
No more than any other vampire. Sometimes I still missed Phoenix.
"Sam..." I faltered, and Jasper tilted his head to the side. I focused on him, ignoring the others. "Sam needs..." Should it be more formal than this? It felt like it should be more formal. This was business, after all.
Jasper nodded, silently urging me to continue. I didn't dare take a deep breath to calm my nerves; I was breathing as shallowly as I possibly could to keep the drugging scent out of my system, which was starting to make me lightheaded. Still, my heartbeat began to slow. I could do this. "The Alpha," I said more forcefully, "would like to... to hear from your coven leader..."
"You mean Carlisle?" Jasper said.
My face began to burn. "Yeah," I mumbled. "Carlisle. They want to know--" don't forget to emphasize "--when you'll be leaving. Sam would like a direct communication from Carlisle on the... you know, subject." I felt like a total idiot. "Something... um... official. Oh, and not by the phone, phones don't work. So, uh, a letter. Or something. Please."
There.
I heard the tiniest squeak from my right, and I knew Alice was trying not to laugh.
And I could feel him on my left, watching silently.
Jasper, however, seemed completely unaffected by my stumbling performance. "I will relay the communication, and we will have a response for you forthwith." His Southern accent became even more pronounced as he spoke. He nodded courteously. "Please convey our gratitude to the Alpha for making his request in such an appropriate and gentlemanly fashion."
I decided not to mention how Sam had thrown the phone.
"Okay," I said quickly, taking a step backward. "That's all. Thanks."
"You're not going to stay?" Alice asked, plaintive. I turned to look; her shoulders slumped elegantly. She was the picture of a dejected sprite, a fairy queen whose heart had been--
Stop.
"No," I managed, swallowing past the guilt and the longing. "No, I can't."
Then that voice spoke up, and I closed my eyes as his words caused pure liquid pleasure flowed through my body, filling my veins with sweet, cool bliss. "I can step out of the room if you would prefer, Bella." The angel's tone was despondent. "I know you would rather not speak to me. I wouldn't wish to stand between you and my sister."
I couldn't stop myself -- I turned to face Edward. The heartbreak I saw there was a thousand times worse than what I'd seen in Alice's expression.
My will began to cave.
"Don't go," I whispered. "You don't have to go. I don't want you to go."
"There's no need to lie to me, Bella." Every word he spoke was like music. "I've seen the minds of your friends. I hope that I've done enough to make your efforts to avoid me successful. I have made every effort to... stay away. The last thing I want is to cause you any more pain."
Why on earth would I ask him to stay away?
Then Edward's topaz gaze dropped from my face to my neck, and he froze, forgetting even to pretend to breathe. I brushed my throat... and felt where my wool scarf had slipped. Alice gasped in shock.
Well, Jacob would be happy that the 'bloodsuckers' had seen what he'd left on me, at least.
A muscle twitched in Edward's chiseled jaw. "You must be more careful, Bella," he growled as he stood up. Cold, tightly leased fury coiled through his words; even in his anger he was dazzling.
"It's not your business, Edward." My voice wavered, and the old wound in my chest began to throb miserably. "You and I... we're not..."
"Do you really think I am concerned about such petty trivialities as jealousy at a time like this?" he snarled. I'd forgotten how much taller than me he was. "Your life is at stake. Nothing is more important."
"Jacob would never--"
"They're nearly as strong as we are and have nothing like our self control. If you spoke the wrong word the child could tear you into pieces before he'd even realized what he'd done. And you would let him close enough to you to..." Edward's golden eyes blazed into mine. "How could you be so idiotically careless, Bella?"
Edward's disappointment felt like knives in my chest. "Stop," I whispered. "Don't, I'm sorry--"
"Edward," Alice hissed, glancing nervously around the room. We were gaining an audience. "You need to step outside, or..." She trailed off, but Edward flinched suddenly. He must have seen something in her mind that he didn't like, because he instantly stepped away from the table and stormed out of the side door into the misty air of the courtyard.
I felt the tears spill over and run down my cheeks.
"Bella," Alice said quietly, looking miserable, "please, you have to understand--"
"Hey, Bella!" A warm arm wrapped around my shoulders, quickly and forcibly turning me from the Cullens' table. "We've got this project we totally have to work on before sixth period," Jessica gushed. I noticed she wasn't unaffected either; her eyes were mostly on Alice, and her tone was kinder than I would have expected. But her response was nothing like mine. "Gotta steal her, sorry!"
"Can we go to the library?" I whispered as Jessica steered me away. "I don't want to stay in here."
"Yeah, sure." Jessica gave me a weird look as I wiped my tears away with my finger. "Wow. He really does do a number on you, doesn't he?"
I nodded.
"What a tool," she said breezily. As we walked out the double doors, she reached up and readjusted my scarf, snickering. "Great hickey, by the way. Scarves are such a rookie move. Don't you have any foundation?"
I met Jessica's smirk and somehow, to my utter surprise, I found myself almost smiling.
***
Chapter Three: Riposte
Sanity Update: For burn care information I took a page from the Stephenie Meyer School of Research -- by which I mean I asked Google. My apologies for mistakes, but I had to stop looking after I clicked on Image Search for "second degree burns". *shudder* Also, yeah, I know in New Moon Jacob talked to Carlisle on the phone and it worked perfectly fine. I'm making just the merest hint of a canon change on that one... because it amuses me. So there. As a side note, Reasoning With Vampires' "we're entering serious psychological fuckery, kids" tag is extremely useful in Cullen-writing.
Updated to add: gypseian 's podfic of this chapter is available here for listening and/or download.