An Angel

Mom clutches my arm tightly. Her eyes are extremely wary, keeping track of each of the Cullens. I'm amazed that she can keep track of all of them, but she does. She watches Emmett and Esme as they whirl together, Emmett grinning and Esme positively beaming. Whenever Esme catches sight of Bella and Edward together, she glows. Mom looks occasionally at Edward, but his arms are around Bella, supporting her on his feet. Their eyes never stray from one another's, and even Mom has to admit that, at this moment, Edward is not a threat. She hardly ever glances at Carlisle, who's chatting to Bella's mom and stepdad. Mom doesn't trust him, exactly, but ever since he healed Jake she's more tolerant of him. Alice is flitting about, talking and laughing and fixing any decorations that need fixing, though few do.

So Mom watches these five out of the corner of her eye.

But she keeps a special watch on Rosalie and Jasper. They're standing at opposite ends of the great lawn, and both will occasionally glance at me with mistrust etched in every line of their white faces. Once, Alice came over to talk to me, and Jasper's face was terrifying. I looked up once at him, because I felt his gaze burning a hole into my head, and everything about his posture and facial expression said: Touch her and I will kill you in the most painful way possible. Mom did not miss this look.

"The danger's already gone, Ma," I assure her. And it is. Jacob and Edward have had their spat over- surprise, surprise- Bella.

Well, more than a spat. It was millimeters away from being a real fight. Jake was ready to kill Edward, and Edward was willing to fight, too. Jacob had squeezed Bella's arms pretty tightly, and he'd upset her on her wedding day- if you want to fight Edward, just make the corners of Bella's mouth turn down.

But Sam and Quil had arrived to help pull Jacob away- I helped too. And Emmett and Jasper were there for Edward, though I doubted they would have been the voices of reason, Emmett especially. Bella, however, laid a restraining hand on Edward's arm. Though he was infinitely stronger than her, her hand had greater power over him than anything else in the world could. That hand wanted him to stay, and he would not deny it anything.

Mom would never have known, and never had reason to worry. Except Billy, who was so happy about Jake being back earlier, looked serious and almost sad. Mom and Billy are kind of dating…he and Charlie have been competing for her affections since Dad died. I don't think they mean it disrespectfully. I know they didn't set out to fight over my dad's widow, but, over the past months, both of them have become distinctly puppy-like.

So Mom talked to Billy, and wanted to leave right then. "They can't be trusted," she hissed. My mother isn't afraid of anything, except me or Leah getting hurt. Leah certainly wasn't friendly with the "leeches", so there was no chance of her getting too close. If she had her way, she'd be a hundred miles from here. But me…I was a freak. My brothers thought it was as weird and disgusting as my sister did that I liked Forks's resident vampires. Mom tended to agree with them, no matter how many times I assured her the Cullens wouldn't hurt me, or any of the rest (unless attacked first).

So Mom (and Leah, when I didn't shake her off) held onto me so tightly their short nails dug into my skin.

"Let's dance, Mom," I suggested. "Leah, Jasper's not occupied. You could dance with him." I couldn't resist teasing her. She growled slightly, then moved back a few yards. As Mom and I began to dance, far less gracefully than most of the rest of the couples (there was another vampire family here, and the two blonde females were dancing with slobbering human males), Leah shadowed us, always hovering, always looking about, always tense-ready to phase at a moment's notice.

That was when I noticed a couple nearly as graceless as Mom and me. They were near Edward and Bella, and moving at about the same pace as them. Though it was obvious Edward was going that slow to enjoy the moment with his new wife, these two seemed to be moving at such a pace because they could go no faster without losing their balance.

The guy was shorter than the girl by about six inches. He wore a nice tux, and his black hair was slightly untidy. The way he let his hands rest confidently about her waist told me they were a couple, and a long-standing one at that. His dark eyes were gazing into her light brown ones. It was obvious that they loved one another.

She was tall, about six feet, I'd say. Her light brown hair was in a bun at the nape of her neck. She wasn't fat, by any means, nor plump. But she was strongly-built –she wasn't a gangly giraffe. Her height fit her.

Her face was not beautiful, but it was pretty enough. Her nose was small and cute. She was smiling down at her boyfriend, though I could tell her expression was usually solemn. But not unkind. She had a very sweet air about her, and her eyes were gentle. Her face was not at all angular: there were no sharp edges. Her cheekbones, though fine and high, were softened just enough. Her chin was not round; it was very defined. However, it seemed like the edges had been blurred intentionally. This girl cannot cut someone down, is what the deity who made her seemed to be trying to get across. This girl is safe.

I didn't know why I stared at them so long. I just felt like I had to. Mom, looking over her shoulder, said, "Do you know them?"

"No. I think they're friends of Bella's from school." Both of them were slightly familiar…I might have seen them at the beach once or twice, with that group of seniors that had been going since they were freshmen. But not since I became one of the pack. And everything was so much clearer with these eyes. It was like seeing it all for the first time. Like the girl's face: I had never realized just how pretty it was until this moment.

I don't know what made her look up. Maybe she sensed my eyes on her. Maybe, since I had unconsciously drifted closer to them, she'd heard me and Mom talking. Maybe she was just wanted to get away from the intensity between her and her boyfriend for a while.

Whatever the reason, those light brown eyes, those beautiful, wide eyes, met mine.

And I was hooked.

It made no sense, but I couldn't look away from her. My mom, my sister, my pack, the wedding, my whole life…it all fell away. This tall, soft girl was better than all of those things combined.

I knew I should look away, but I didn't want to. And even if I had wanted to, I don't know if I could. I wanted this girl. I wanted to walk up to her and see her smile at me. I wanted to hold her hand; dance with her; hold her tightly, and never, ever let go.

I wanted to know her name.

Without realizing what I was doing, I released myself from Mom's hands, and tapped the lovely creature's boyfriend on the shoulder. "May I break in?" I inquired, like they did in old movies. Looking bewildered, he acquiesced.

The angel stared at me with those marvelous eyes, and said, "Have we met?"

Her voice was the most wonderful thing I'd ever heard. I couldn't resist a quick look around. I was expecting everyone to be staring at us, to be staring at the girl in front of me, because she was so beautiful (how could I have thought her simply pretty only a minute ago?), and because her voice was so perfect. Why weren't they falling at her feet, as they should? I wanted to. This girl was worthy of worship, was meant to be worshipped; if her maker didn't desire that, He wouldn't have made her so flawless.

"No. I'm Seth Clearwater." It seemed to take me an age to answer, and yet I knew it wasn't that long at all.

I placed my huge hands on her waist. Without warning, my grip tightened, but not too much. Her dress was welding my hands to her waist with something stronger than I'd ever known. Which was fine with me.

She had to look up to see me, something I sensed she wasn't used to doing. Her hands landed lightly and tentatively on my shoulders. If my shoulders were capable of it, they would have welded her hands.

Electricity was thrumming through me, from the hair on my head to the soles of my feet (a lot of electricity), though she didn't seem to notice.

"Angela Weber," she said softly.

Angela, Angela, Angela. It even sounded like "angel".

She was glorious. She was the center of the universe. I was still bewildered as to why I was the only one staring at her like this.

And then, in a fleeting moment of clarity, when her eyes disconnected from mine and looked at the ground, I did.

I had imprinted.