Starting from page 262 of New Moon (Chapter 11: Cult)
A movement flashed in my peripheral vision—I turned and saw Billy looking through the front window with a confused expression. I just pressed my lips together in a hard line and nodded at him once.
His eyes narrowed; he let the curtain fall across the glass.
I was prepared to stay as long as it would take for Jacob to get back, but I wished I had something to do. I sighed and pulled out a pen, and an old test from the bottom of my backpack. I started to doodle on the back of the scrap.
I'd had time to scrawl only one row of diamonds across the paper when there was a sharp tap on the car window.
I jumped, accidentally dropping the pen and test.
"What are you doing here, Bella?" Jacob growled.
My mouth dropped open and I stared at him in blank astonishment.
He had changed so much. His beautiful hair was all gone, cropped short, covering his head with an inky gloss. The planes of his face seemed to have hardened, tightened…aged and matured, like a man's. His neck and shoulders were thicker somehow. His hands, where they gripped the window frame, looked enormous, the tendons and veins quite literally popping out of his skin. And Charlie had been right. He really was getting bigger all the time. But all of these changes were dwarfed by the one in his expression.
It made him nearly unrecognizable, the disappearance of the open, friendly smile, as gone as the hair. The warmth in his dark brown eyes had altered to a brooding resentment that was instantly disturbing. There was a darkness in this new Jacob. As if my sun had imploded.
It took me a while to recover. "Jacob?" I managed to say.
He just stared at me, his eyes tense and angry.
I realized we weren't alone. Behind him stood four others, all tall and russet-skinned, black hair cropped short just like Jacob's. They could've been brothers—I couldn't even tell which one was Embry. The resemblance was intensified by the strikingly similar hostility in every pair of black-brown eyes.
All but one. The oldest by a significant several years, Sam Uley stood in the very back, his face calm and sure. My expression changed instinctively—from shock to hatred. I could feel my face twisting in disgust and I had to swallow the bile that rose automatically in my throat. I wanted to take a swing at him. No, I wanted to do more than that. More than anything, I wanted to be frightening and deadly, someone no one would dare mess with. Someone who would scare this Sam Uley silly.
I wanted to be a vampire.
The violent, aching desire caught me off guard and knocked the wind out of me. I gasped and looked away, staring at the floor of the truck. Wishing to be a vampire was the most forbidden of all thoughts—even when I only wished it for a shallow, malicious reason like this—to gain advantage over an enemy. It was the most painful wish of all. That future was lost to me forever, had never really been within my feeble, human grasp. I scrambled to gain control over myself while the hole in my chest ripped itself open again and throbbed horribly. I wrapped my arms around myself, subtly, I hoped.
"What do you want?" Jacob demanded, growing more resentful as he watched the confusing play of emotion across my face.
I tried to talk, but nothing came out. I cleared my throat noisily. "I…want to talk to you," I said, trying to keep my voice strong and determined. I tried to concentrate, but I was still reeling against the escape of my taboo dream.
"Go right ahead," he hissed. His glare was vicious. I'd never seen him look at anyone like that, not even Sam, who was now the reason for this look I never thought I'd receive. It hurt with a surprising intensity, adding on to the throbbing in my chest. I tightened my arms.
"Alone!" This time, my voice managed to match his antagonism.
He looked behind him, and I knew where his eyes would go. Every pair of eyes were turned for Sam's response.
Sam nodded once, his face unperturbed. He made a brief comment in an unfamiliar, liquid language. I knew it wasn't French or Spanish, but I could guess that it was Quileute. Jacob responded shortly with the same tongue, and I stared at him. He'd never mentioned that he could speak Quileute. Unless this was yet another new development after joining this—this cult.
Sam turned and walked into Jacob's little red house. The others—Paul, Jared, and Embry, I assumed—followed him in.
"Okay." Jacob seemed a little less infuriated when the others were gone. His face was a little calmer, but also more hopeless. His mouth seemed permanently pulled down at the corners.
I breathed deeply. In. Out. In. Out. "You know what I want to know."
He just looked at me bitterly.
I stared back at him, and I could feel the anger leaking out of my eyes, leaving behind an empty sadness. The pain in his face unnerved me.
"Can we walk?" I asked, while I was still in control of my voice.
He didn't answer at all; his face didn't change.
I got out of the car awkwardly, feeling unseen eyes behind the windows of the house, and started walking toward the trees to the north without waiting for Jacob to say anything. My feet squished loudly in the damp grass and mud beside the road. At first, I thought he wasn't following me, but when I looked around, he was right beside me, his feet somehow quieter than mine.
I felt better when we got to the fringe of trees, where Sam couldn't possibly see us. As we walked, I struggled for the right thing to say, but nothing came. I just couldn't believe that Jacob had gotten sucked in, that Billy had allowed all of this, that Sam could just stand there so sickeningly serene and sure.
Jacob suddenly picked up the pace, striding ahead of me easily with his long legs, and then swinging around to face me, so that I would have to stop too.
I was distracting by the incredible grace of his movement. He had been nearly as clumsy as me with his never-ending growth spurt. When did that change?
But Jacob didn't give me time to brood on that.
"Let's get this over with," he said in a hard, tense voice.
I waited. He knew what I wanted.
"It's not what you think. It's not what I thought—I was way off."
"So… what is it then?" I asked, raising my eyebrows at his change of thought about Sam in just a few short weeks.
He studied my face for a long moment, speculating. The anger never left his eyes. "I can't tell you." he said finally.
I flinched, and my jaw tightened. "I thought we were friends."
"We were." He emphasized the past tense.
My eyes narrowed, and I tried to hide my sadness. "But you don't need friends anymore," I snapped. "You have Sam. Oh, wonderful Sam. Isn't that just fantastic—you've always wanted to be part of his little group so much."
"I didn't understand him before."
"Oh, and now you do. Of course."
"It wasn't like I thought it was! This isn't Sam's fault. He's helping me as much as he can." His voice turned abruptly brittle, and he looked above my head, the rage burning out from his eyes.
"He's helping you. Naturally," I said sarcastically.
Jacob didn't appear to be listening. He was taking deep deliberate breaths, trying, apparently, to calm himself. His hands were shaking, he was so mad.
"Jacob, please," I whispered. "Won't you tell me what happened?"
"No one can help," his voice broke, as his eyes closed and he tipped his head back, apparently distressed.
"What did he do to you?" I asked, reaching towards him.
He cringed away, holding his hands up defensively. "Don't touch me," he whispered.
I dropped my arms, feeling the tears starting. His coldness seemed final. It was over, wasn't it? My solace, my only comfort? "Is Sam catching?" I mumbled.
"Stop blaming Sam." The words came out fast, like a reflex.
"Then who should I blame?" I retorted, my anger coming back suddenly.
He halfway smiled, but it was a bitter, bleak smile, twisted. "You don't want to hear that."
"To hell I don't! I want to know, and I want to know now."
"You're wrong," he growled.
"Don't you dare tell me I'm wrong! I'm not the one who got brainwashed, just like all the others! This is how it happened with all the other guys! You said so yourself! And now you're just getting into this thing just like the rest of them! You're just as bad as them, aren't you? Tell me whose fault all of this is, if it's not your precious Sam!" I yelled at him, spitting out the last word, the name that I had grown to despise.
He didn't even flinch at my words. "You asked for it," he snarled, eyes hard. "If you want to blame someone for all for this, why don't you point your finger at those filthy, reeking bloodsuckers that you love so much?"
My mouth fell open, and my breath whooshed out. I was frozen in place, stabbed through. It was worse to hear them mentioned by Jacob, my human friend. My best friend. The pain twisted in familiar patterns through my body, the jagged hole ripping me open from the inside out. I snapped my mouth shut and whipped my eyes back to his face, studying him. What had made him believe the truth that he had ridiculed before? But there was no trace of indecision in his face. Only fury.
"I told you that you didn't want to hear it," he said.
"I don't understand who you mean," I whispered, my voice barely audible.
He stared at me in disbelief. "I think you understand exactly who I mean. You're not going to make me say it, are you? I don't like hurting you."
Part of me that wasn't consumed with shock and pain suddenly hardened again. He didn't like to hurt me, did he? Well then, what was all of this? But the anger wasn't strong enough. "I don't understand who you mean," I repeated robotically.
"The Cullens," he said slowly, drawing out the word, almost relished it. Relishing my pain. He scrutinized my face, seeming to recognize the whiplash of pain that spasmed across it. "I saw that—I can see it in your eyes what it does to you when you hear their name."
My eyes filled with tears; I looked down and shook my head back and forth in denial, trying to clear it at the same time. The tears fell to the grass field below me. How did he know this? And how did it have anything to do with the cult? Was it a gang of vampire-haters? What the hell was the point of forming such a gang when no vampires lived in Forks anymore? Why would Jacob start believing the incredible truth about the Cullens when the evidence of their existence was long gone, never to return?
I swallowed. It took me too long to come up with the right response. "Don't tell me you're listening to Billy's superstitious nonsense, now," I said feebly, my voice hoarse, attempting to stab at mockery.
"He knows more than I gave him credit for," he said each word with a distinct, cutting finality. It reminded me of that day in the forest. The memory that slipped through my weakened barriers tore at my chest wounds again.
"Be serious, Jacob," I whispered, venom in my voice.
He glared at me, his eyes critical.
"Superstitions aside," I said hastily, "I still don't see what you're accusing the… Cullens"—I forced the name out, wincing as it tore my wounds on the way out—"of. They left more than half a year ago. How can you blame them for what Sam is doing now?"
The fury returned to his face. Since when had Jacob been so infuriatingly protective of Sam, whom he had once hated so much? He was so mad his whole body shook. "Sam isn't doing anything, Bella! And yes, I know that they're gone. But things are set in motion, and then it's too late."
"What's set in motion?" I yelled, completely frustrated. "What's too late? What are you blaming them for?"
He was suddenly right in my face, his fury shaking him so much, his huge frame was blurred. "For existing!" He stepped back, suddenly horrified.
"Quiet now, Bella. Don't push him," Edward's voice cautioned in my ear. I stared in shock. Why had Edward's voice just broken through? Jacob was Jacob. He wasn't dangerous. "Bella!" Edward's voice was suddenly urgent. "Back away, now!" I just shook my head, trying to clear it. This wasn't making any sense. Jacob? Dangerous? "Bella," Edward's voice started to growl. But now I wasn't listening. I was concentrating on Jacob now, worried about his expression that was frozen in place.
He stared at me, the anger still in his eyes, but he seemed half in horror as his body shook harder. He squeezed his eyes shut, and suddenly he exploded with a sharp, tearing sound. I screamed, and stumbled backward.
It was the wolf. The giant, mutant, bear-wolves that had passed me by, so close, in the meadow with Laurent. It was the red-brown wolf that had been less than a foot away from me that now towered over me.
It was a second before I felt the pain. The forest tilted around me, and I felt a red haze clouding my vision. My head pounded and suddenly, I could only see the ground. The pain built until it was almost unbearable. It was in my gut. I could feel it. I gasped, and then choked and spasmed as it tore at my damaged stomach. My hand jerked towards it, and felt warm, sticky blood, gushing over my hand. I could feel it soaking my clothes and spilling onto the ground. There was so much. My head whirled as the smell hit me. There was a rushing sound in my ears that was so loud and painful that I almost didn't hear the growling in my head, and the strange yelping coming from the wolf. Jacob. I felt the ground shake as the enormous thing suddenly collapsed to the ground, writhing. What was going on? The last thing I saw and felt was the ground shaking once more, like an earthquake, as more wolves came sprinting into the scene, the sharp claws extended towards me, of the same design that ripped open my abdomen. I choked for breath as the sick feeling overwhelmed me. The wolves, coming for me. I was going to disappear like all the hikers. Charlie, I thought despairingly.Blackness took me.
"…don't know what Sam's going to do about this," a voice murmured.
"Jacob's going to get something for this, definitely," another said, worriedly.
"But Sam's gone through this before, so he has to know what it must be like. And besides, it's not easy. Jacob's only been a couple weeks old as a wolf." Wolf. The word slowly clicked through my brain. The words seemed to be coming through very slowly. Wolf. There had been a wolf…a huge red-brown wolf. It had been… I suddenly gasped and tried to yank myself up, as I would after any nightmare, normally. But unfortunately, I forgot about my stomach. I choked as it wrenched at the wounds and fell off of the couch that I was lying on. Too-hot hands caught me, and I struggled automatically.
"Calm down," the first voice said, somewhat irritably.
"Jared, she's just been attacked by a wolf. Do you really think she's going to be calm?" the second voice said, sounding exasperated. The hands returned me to the couch, and my vision slowly came into focus. Two very large, half-naked boys were sitting by the couch. I squinted, and I recognized one as Embry Call. The other, I assumed, was Jared.
I squeezed my eyes shut and then forcefully opened them again. Nope, still in Billy's house, with Embry and Jared looking at me weirdly. I sighed, and ruled out the possibility that this was all just a really, really awful nightmare.
"Easy, now," Embry cautioned me. "You've been through a lot."
"No way," I said sourly. I glared at him. "Are you a big old—" I struggled for the right words and I made claw motions with my hands.
Embry laughed at me. "Yeah, sure, I'm a big old wolf. Old legend."
I gaped at him.
"She doesn't seem too traumatized," Jared murmured to Embry.
"No, I'm not!" I said loudly. I had just remembered the hikers. "What about the people disappearing? What do you have to answer to that?"
Jared and Embry just looked at me, confused. I glared at them both (which was a little hard since I had to keep looking back and forth). A look of dawning comprehension took over Jared's face.
"Oh!" he started laughing. I stared at him, disgusted by his cold-bloodedness. Laughing? At murder? Well, holy crow, they were as bad as James and Victoria! But before Jared could even attempt to justify his callousness, the door banged open.
It was Sam. I tried to stop the bile rising up my throat again at the sight of him, trying to remind myself that it wasn't a cult now. It was a pack. I shuddered at the words.
"Are you alright?" Sam asked anxiously.
I looked up at him, surprised at his concern. I'd never seen any other emotion besides for serenity on his older face.
"I'm fine," I lied. Truthfully, I was extremely confused, and admittedly, afraid. What would he do to me if he could kill so many innocent hikers in cold blood?
He looked at me for a moment with a strange expression. He bit his lip nervously. "Um… Jacob is outside," he murmured.
"Oh," I said. My eyebrows pulled together. Okay, now, what was I supposed to do? I wasn't mad at him, not really. I was just… very shocked. Okay, that was an understatement. Shocked did not even begin to cover my reaction to his… transformation. "I just want to know what's going on," I blurted.
Sam nodded. "I know you're confused, Bella, but there's a certain limit to what we can tell you—" I frowned at him, annoyed.
"Wait, but why?" Embry interjected. "If she already knows we're wolves, then doesn't she have to know everything? She already knows this much."
Sam looked thoughtful. "That's true…" he said slowly. I couldn't wait much longer for him to ponder.
"Look, can I talk to Jacob?" I asked, a little impatient. I really wanted to know everything. Seriously, why on earth was he a wolf? What was wrong with this world? Did this mean that every single myth was true, and they all wandered about rainy, small towns? Jacob had been my sole comfort, he had been warm and human. Well no, he wasn't even human! It was all so twisted and confusing!
"I'm not sure if that's…the best idea," Sam said sternly.
"Why?" I demanded.
"You see, the reason he couldn't see you was because this might happen." He gestured towards my bandaged torso. I glanced down guiltily. "Something might set him off again, and we don't want him to hurt you more."
"I'm fine," I lied. Sam, Embry, and Jared all raised their eyebrows at me skeptically.
Why was everyone always so keen to prove me wrong about me being fine? I was fine before all of this wolf business. So really, it was these boys that caused me to be not fine. What was it with me? Why did I have to get in deeper than I had to with these guys so that they could just tear huge chunks out of my chest (almost literally in this case, ugh) when they went off on their mythical paths?
"Fine, whatever, I'm not fine," I snapped. "But I will be if I can just talk to Jacob." Sam looked a little hesitant. "Please," I emphasized. "If he kills me, he'll put me out of my misery." The three guys gaped at me. Geez. "I'm kidding. Gosh." I snorted.
"All right, you can talk to Jacob." Sam allowed, while Embry and Jared looked at me weirdly. I rolled my eyes. I wasn't exactly in the best mood. Duh. What else could they have expected? "We have to be in here though," he warned.
I frowned. "Please. Could you not?" It would be nice if we could be alone. I didn't like the feeling of eyes on me while I talked to people. Especially best friends.
Sam studied me closely and then sighed. He seemed to accept my stubborn expression as a confirmation that I definitely really needed to talk to Jacob—alone. Otherwise I would explode.
Sam turned and walked out the door. I closed my eyes and breathed deeply, relieved that he had decided to trust Jacob with being alone with me. My heart accelerated. Why was that? Was I afraid that Jacob might hurt me again? I didn't think so. So what was it? Before I had long to ponder my feeling of unease, the door opened again. Jared and Embry both stood up as Sam came in with Jacob, whose face was completely conflicted. I hated the pain there, the guilt, the anger at himself. Hated it fiercely. His eyes were on the floor. It seemed like he was afraid to look at me, afraid for anything that might trigger his wolf transformation. Sam stopped, and whispered something to Jacob.
I didn't really hear what he said, but it sounded like, "If it's too much, get out. Don't stop. Just get out." Jacob nodded, his eyes still on the ground. Sam slowly backed out of the house. Embry and Jared hesitated by the door, then seemed to think better of it and shut the door quietly behind them.
I didn't know what to say. Jacob was biting on his lip. I couldn't clearly see his eyes from here, but it looked like he was about to cry.
"Jacob," I said softly.
He didn't say anything.
"Jacob, I know you didn't do it on purpose," I said, as gently as I could. I didn't exactly think those were the right words.
The words exploded from Jacob like a flood, pent up inside of him like a dam. "I'm sorry, Bella, I wasn't allowed to tell you—no one knows the truth besides the Council, and I wanted so much to tell you. I didn't mean to hurt you, and I could kill myself for losing control and I just hate myself so much for doing that and I'm really, really sorry, Bella, I really am."
I sighed. I had been expecting something like that. Jacob still wouldn't look at me. "I know, Jake."
I couldn't stand the way the pain was etched all over his face, the way he couldn't seem to face me, because he was afraid that I might turn him away.
"Please, Jacob. Could you just look at me?" I whispered. His large, brown eyes were still focused on the ground. His expression of pain made him look strangely childlike and vulnerable, completely different from the hard mask he had worn before…
I jerked the thought out of my head. Now wasn't the right time to ask him. I watched Jacob carefully.
He jerked his head once—a no. Okay, so he couldn't look at me. Why? Would it trigger something else? Was I such a burden that he couldn't even take me in? I hated being such a pain. It seemed like that was always what I turned out to be. Just a silly human, trying to follow some boy down his impossible mythical path. I bit my lip. Surprisingly, the hole didn't find the need to hurt me. I was already literally ripped, just below the hole anyway. Jacob's presence still appeared to be the remedy for the hole, even though he'd opened his own, ha-ha. Okay, not funny. I wasn't so much a masochist that I'd find humor and enjoyment in my condition. Ugh.
"So," I cleared my throat, making sure he was paying attention to me. "Could you at least tell me what's going on? I'm a little… out of the bubble here in case you haven't noticed." Somehow something about the wolves seemed familiar… not the sight of them, heavens no. More of the mention of them. I'd heard about them before. I'd heard of something…
Holy crow, it had taken place right here in La Push, at that beach—next to that driftwood tree. The stories Jacob had told me. When he'd first revealed what the… Cullens truly were. Their enemies. The werewolves. And that's what he was. He was a protector.
Well, I'll be damned! What was this place? Did every little myth exist then? Did they perhaps roam the rainy, small towns of the world? And what was it with me? This truly said something very, very terrible about me and my iffy character. Was there some law against being so close to mythical creatures? A law against those who turned their backs of humanity—in short, me? Oh, mother of God, help me. I was in some serious shit here.
I hardly noticed that my mouth was hanging open.
"Figured it out on your own, didn't you?" a voice asked. Jacob had finally looked up. He was looking at me, his eyes cautious, his face blank. "I knew that you could."
I snapped my mouth closed and swallowed. I nodded slowly. "I remember the stories."
Jacob looked away, his lips pressed together. He nodded.
"Protector?" I whispered. "Werewolf?" The two words sounded strange put together. It was more like there should be a protector against werewolves, according to the more traditional myth. But Jacob didn't need a full moon.
"Yes," he whispered, his voice barely audible. He closed his eyes, and his head tipped back slightly. His hands were shoved in his jeans pockets. A look of immense pain flooded his expression.
Pity shook me. And I realized that I hated it when Jacob was in pain. Hated it fiercely. I wanted to go to him and hug him and make him feel better. I wanted him to be happy. I wanted to be able to choose him. Why couldn't I? What was wrong with me? What was holding me back? Why should I be held back? Nothing was stopping me. But I couldn't think about that right now. It was too painful. So I asked him something else.
"Are the others…?" I asked cautiously. Of course I already knew the answer to that. But I needed to ask him something to get his mind off of whatever was causing him so much pain.
It didn't do much good. He just slowly nodded his head. He opened his eyes—slowly also. He looked afraid to come closer.
I held out my hand. "Come here," I insisted. "It's okay," I said, when he looked doubtful. "I'm fine. I really am." Which, honestly, I was. For now.
Jacob slowly walked towards me, his eyes cautious. My hand was still held out towards him.
"It's okay," I encouraged. He slowly took it, softly and carefully. Then he sat on the couch without jostling me (he obviously made an effort not to).
"You're okay, right?" he asked me, almost shyly.
"Yeah, of course!" I said insistingly. "I'm absolutely fine," I said, a little more quietly.
Jacob half-smiled; his eyes were still sad. He looked down at our hands. His hand was still burning on my too-cold one.
"Is that a werewolf thing? The heat?" I asked, curiously.
"Yeah," he sighed, without looking up. "We run a little higher than normal humans do. About one-oh-eight, one-oh-nine…"
I felt my eyebrows shoot up. That was… rather warm. "Wow," I murmured.
"Yes," he said, seemingly a little amused at my reaction. "Hot, huh?"
"I'll say," I whispered. Jacob smiled at me. I wished I could take away the pain in his eyes. We sat in silence for a moment, his hand warming mine.
"Can I ask you something?" My voice cracked a little because I hadn't spoken much in the last… who knows how long.
He glanced down at me with veiled eyes. "Sure," he murmured.
"What… happened when you first… changed?" I asked tentatively.
Jacob was still for a moment. He looked a little pained.
"Was it horrible?" I asked quietly.
"Yes," he sighed. "It was. I've never been in so much pain before."
I winced slightly.
He glanced down at me as if he felt me wince. He smiled a little, pulling up a corner of his mouth. "But it's okay, you know, now that you're in on the secret." He winced himself a little, probably remembering how I discovered that. He shook his head a little and his expression smoothed out. "Before it was… hard. Knowing that I couldn't see you, knowing that I was hurting you and going back on my promise." He closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them slowly and turned back to face me with pain-filled eyes. "I'm sorry, Bella." Though it was short, the apology was filled with emotion and his voice burned with sadness.
"It's okay, Jake. I know you had to do it. I mean—break your promise. And I don't hold anything against you. Anyone would've snapped under your condition and what you were going through. I definitely would have." I tried desperately to comfort him.
He shook his head slowly, but didn't argue.
Shit. It was going to take forever to convince him that it wasn't his fault.
A/N: I know it's a crappy ending! Sorry! I was kind of in a rush and I wasn't sure how to end it so there it is.