Some say the world will end in fire,

Some say in ice.

From what I've tasted of desire

I hold with those who favor fire

But if I had to perish twice,

I think I know enough of hate

To say that for destruction ice

Is also great

And would suffice.

-Robert Frost

Preface

All our attempts at subterfuge had been in vain.

With ice in my heart, I watched her prepare to defend me. Her intense concentration betrayed no hint of doubt, though she was outnumbered. I knew that we could expect no help—at this moment, her family was fighting for their lives just as surely as she was for ours.

Would I ever learn the outcome of that other fight? Find out who the winners and the losers were? Would I live long enough for that?

The odds of that didn't look so great.

Black eyes, wild with their fierce craving for my death, watched for the moment when my protector's attention would be diverted. The moment when I would surely die.

Somewhere, far, far away in the cold forest, a wolf howled.

1. Ultimatum

Anna,

Yeah, I miss you, too. A lot. Doesn't change anything. Sorry.

Kristoff

I ran my fingers across the page, feeling the dents where he had pressed the pen to the paper so hard that it had nearly broken through. I could picture him writing this—scrawling the angry letters in his rough handwriting— slashing through line after line when the words came out wrong, maybe even snapping the pen in his too-big hands that would explain the ink splatters. I could imagine the frustration pulling his black eyebrows together and crumpling his forehead. If I'd been there, I might have laughed.Don't give yourself a brain hemorrhage, Kristoff,I would have told him.Just spit it out.

Laughing was the last thing I felt like doing now as I reread the words I'd already memorized. His answer to my pleading note—passed from David to Billy to him, just like the second grade, as he'd pointed out—was no surprise. I'd known the essence of what it would say before I'd opened it.

I wasn't so naïve as to think we had left things in agoodplace. But I had hoped that we could work it all out… somehow. Something had happened after the last time I saw Kristoff in person. Something had changed his mind about where things were between us. I couldn't really blame him, though. I had told him it wasn't fair of me to tell him the truth of my feelings, if there was such a strong possibility that nothing would come of it. I had to try and reconcile myself with the fact that he had realized this himself.

What was surprising me was how much each crossed-out line wounded me—as if the points of the letters had cutting edges. More than that, behind each angry beginning lurked a vast pool of hurt; Kristoff's pain cut me deeper than my own.

While pondering this, I caught the unmistakable scent of a smoking burner rising from inside the kitchen. In another house, the fact that someone besides myself was cooking might not be cause for panicking.

I shoved the wrinkled paper into my back pocket and ran, making it downstairs in the nick of time.

The jar of spaghetti sauce David had stuck in the microwave was only on its first revolution when I yanked the door open and pulled it out.

"What did I do wrong?" David demanded.

"You're supposed to take the lid off first, Dad. Metal's bad for microwaves." I swiftly removed the lid as I spoke, poured half the sauce into a bowl, and then put the bowl inside the microwave and the jar back in the fridge; I fixed the time and pressed start.

David watched my adjustments with pursed lips. "Did I get the noodles right?"

I looked in the pan on the stove—the source of the smell that had alerted me. "Stirring helps," I said mildly. I found a spoon and tried to de-clump the mushy hunk that was scalded to the bottom.

David sighed.

"So what's all this about?" I asked him.

He folded his arms across his chest and glared out the back windows into the sheeting rain. "Don't know what you're talking about," he grumbled.

I was mystified. David cooking? And what was with the surly attitude? Elsa wasn't here yet; usually my dad reserved this kind of behavior for my girlfriend's benefit, doing his best to illustrate the theme of "unwelcome" with every word and posture. David's efforts were unnecessary—Elsa knew exactly what my dad was thinking without the show.

The wordgirlfriendhad me chewing on the inside of my cheek with a familiar tension while I stirred. How easy it had been when that word was enough. I'd use any other word, even the hokey ones likedestinyandfatethat had no place in casual conversation.

Elsa had another word in mind, and that word was the source of the tension I felt. It put my teeth on edge just to think it to myself.

Fiancé. Yikes. I shuddered away from the thought. I had managed to talk Elsa down from her proposal. After all, it had really been poor timing and, while the idea certainly made it clear how serious she was about staying with me—and had definitely improved her chances of winning back my trust—I wasn't in a proper place to make a decision of that magnitude at the time.

I shook my head, focusing myself back on the present.

"Did I miss something? Since when do you make dinner?" I asked David. The pasta lump bobbed in the boiling water as I poked it. "Ortryto make dinner, I should say."

David shrugged. "There's no law that says I can't cook in my own house."

"You would know," I replied, grinning as I eyed the badge pinned to his leather jacket.

"Ha. Good one." He shrugged out of the jacket as if my glance had reminded him he still had it on, and hung it on the peg reserved for his gear. His gun belt was already slung in place—he hadn't felt the need to wear that to the station for a few weeks. There had been no more disturbing disappearances to trouble the small town of Forks, Washington, no more sightings of the giant, mysterious wolves in the ever-rainy woods…

I prodded the noodles in silence, guessing that David would get around to talking about whatever was bothering him in his own time. My dad was not a man of many words, and the effort he had put into trying to orchestrate a sit-down dinner with me made it clear there were an uncharacteristic number of words on his mind.

I glanced at the clock, keeping track of the time. Less than half an hour to go now.

Afternoons were the worst part of my day. Ever since my former best friend (and werewolf), Kristoff Black, had informed on me about the motorcycle I'd been riding on the sly—a betrayal he had devised in order to get me grounded so that I couldn't spend time with my girlfriend (and vampire), Elsa Cullen—Elsa had been allowed to see me only from seven till nine-thirty p.m., always inside the confines of my home and under my dad's protective watch.

This was an escalation from the previous, slightly less stringent grounding that I'd earned for an unexplained three-day disappearance and one episode of cliff diving.

Of course, I still saw Elsa at school, because there wasn't anything David could do about that. And then, Elsa spent almost every night in my room, too, but David wasn't precisely aware of that. Elsa's ability to climb easily and silently through my second-story window was almost as useful as her ability to read minds.

Elsa needed as much time as she could get with me as she was still on probation for her behavior the previous September when she unceremoniously left me—for my own good, she insisted—and then tried to get herself killed when she thought she had lost me for good. It hadn't been one of her best plans. She spent the days at my side being as attentive and sweet as she could, and she spent the nights next to me in my bed whispering how much she loved me.

Though the afternoon was the only time I spent away from Elsa, it was enough to make me restless. When Elsa wasn't there to distract me, I would think of Kristoff. I had hoped, after the last time I saw Kristoff, that we would be able to work things out. I couldn't blame him for changing his mind. He had every right to, and it would be selfish of me to expect him to sit around waiting for something that very well may never happen.

Either way, I endured my punishment without complaining to David because—for one thing—I knew I'd earned it, and—for another—because I couldn't bear to hurt my dad anymore. Not when the possibility of a very permanent separation hovered, invisible to David, so close on my horizon.

My dad sat down at the table with a grunt and unfolded the damp newspaper there; within seconds he was clucking his tongue in disapproval.

"I don't know why you read the news, Dad. It only ticks you off."

He ignored me, grumbling at the paper in his hands. "This is why everyone wants to live in a small town! Ridiculous."

"What have the big, bad cities done wrong now?"

"Seattle's making a run for murder capital of the country. Five unsolved homicides in the last two weeks. Can you imagine living like that?"

"I think Phoenix is actually higher up on the homicide list, Dad. Ihavelived that." And I'd never come close to being a murder victim until after I moved to his safe little town. In fact, I was still on several hit lists… I felt a swirl of nausea in my stomach, not brought on by the pasta-mush.

"Well, you couldn't pay me enough," David said.

I gave up on saving dinner and settled for serving it; I had to use a steak knife to cut a portion of spaghetti for David and then myself, while he watched with a sheepish expression. David coated his helping with sauce and dug in. I disguised my own clump as well as I could and followed his example without much enthusiasm. We ate in silence for a moment. David was still scanning the news, so I picked up my much-abused copy ofWuthering Heightsfrom where I'd left it this morning at breakfast, and tried to lose myself in turn-of-the-century England while I waited for him to start talking.

I was just to the part where Heathcliff returns when David cleared his throat and threw the paper to the table.

"You're right," David said. "I did have a reason for doing this." He waved his fork at the gluey spread. "I wanted to talk to you."

I laid the book aside; the binding was so destroyed that it slumped flat to the table. "You could have just asked." I teased.

He nodded, his eyebrows pulling together. "Yeah. I'll remember that next time. I thought taking dinner off your hands would soften you up."

I laughed. "It worked—your cooking skills have me soft as a marshmallow. What do you need, Dad?"

"Well, it's about Kristoff."

I felt my stomach drop. "What about him?" I asked, trying to keep my voice casual.

"Well, Anna. I know you're still upset that he told on you, but it was the right thing. He was being responsible."

"Responsible," I repeated quietly. "Right. So, what about Kristoff?"

The question repeated endlessly inside my head.What about Kristoff?WhatwasI going to do about him? My former best friend… myalmostboyfriend who was now… what? My enemy? I cringed.

David's face was suddenly wary. "Don't get mad at me, okay?"

"Mad?"

"Well, it's about Elsa, too."

I raised an eyebrow. My suspicion evident on my face.

David frowned. "Hey, kiddo, listen, I let her in the house, don't I?"

"You do," I agreed. "For brief periods of time. Of course, you might let meoutof the house for brief periods now and then, too," I continued—only jokingly; I knew I was deservedly on lockdown for the duration of the school year. "I've been pretty good lately."

"Well, that's kind of where I was heading with this…" And then David's face stretched into an unexpected eye-crinkling grin; for a second he looked twenty years younger.

I saw a dim glimmer of possibility in that smile, but I proceeded slowly. "I'm confused, Dad. Are we talking about Kristoff, or Elsa, or me being grounded?"

The grin flashed again. "Sort of all three."

"And how do they relate?" I asked, cautious.

"Okay." He sighed, raising his hands as if in surrender. "So I'm thinking maybe you deserve a parole for good behavior. For a teenager, you're amazingly non-whiny."

My voice and eyebrows shot up. "Seriously? I'm free?"

Where was this coming from? I'd been positive I would be under house arrest until I actually moved out, and Elsa hadn't picked up any wavering in David's thoughts…

David held up one finger. "Conditionally."

I was wary, but intrigued. "Okay, go on."

"Anna, this is more of a request than a demand, okay? You're free. But I'm hoping you'll use that freedom… judiciously."

"Could you elaborate?"

He sighed again. "Now, I know you're satisfied to spend all of your time with Elsa— "

"I spend time with Alice, too," I interjected. Elsa's sister had no hours of visitation; she came and went as she pleased. David was putty in her capable hands.

"That's true," he said. "But you have other friends besides the Cullens, Anna, or youusedto."

"I still do, Dad!" I objected.

"When was the last time you spoke to Jeremy Stanley? Or Angela Weber?" he threw back.

"In person or on the phone?" I raised an eyebrow. "Because we text all the time, and I saw them Friday at lunch."

Before Elsa's return, my school friends had polarized into two groups. I liked to think of those groups asgoodvs.evil.Usandthemworked, too. The good guys were Angela, her steady boyfriend Ben Cheney, Makayla Newton, and Jeremy; these four had very generously forgiven me for falling into my depression when Elsa left. Logan Mallory was the evil core of thethemside, and almost everyone else seemed to go along with his anti-Anna agenda. Only Logan's sister, Lauren, seemed to waver on the edge.

With Elsa back at school, the dividing line had become even more distinct.

Elsa's return had taken its toll on Makayla's friendship, but Jeremy was un-phased—if not worried about me getting hurt again, Angela was unswervingly loyal, and Ben followed Angela's lead. Despite the natural aversion most humans felt toward the Cullens, Angela even sat dutifully beside Alice every day at lunch. After a few weeks, Angela even looked comfortable there. It was difficult not to be charmed by the Cullens—once one gave them the chance to be charming.

"Outside of school?" David asked, calling my attention back.

"I haven't seenanyoneoutside of school, Dad. Grounded, remember? Jeremy and I text all the time, but he's always going on dates. And Angela has a boyfriend, too. She's always with Ben." I thought for a moment. "IfI'm really free," I offered, "maybe Angela and I could convince the guys to go on a double date."

"Okay. But then…" He hesitated. "You and Kristoff used to be joined at the hip, and now—"

I cut him off. "Dad, what's the condition—exactly?"

"I don't think you should dump all your other friends for your girlfriend, Anna," he said in a stern voice. "It's not nice, and I think your life would be better balanced if you kept some people in it. What happened last September…"

"Was unfortunate, and I learned a lot from it." I said pointedly.

"Well," he said defensively. "If you'd had more of a life outside of Elsa Cullen, it might not have been like that."

"It probably wouldn't have gone much differently, Dad."

"Maybe, maybe not."

"I still talk to my other friends, Dad. I really do." I sighed. "Tell me your terms."

"Use your new freedom toseeyour other friends, too. Keep it balanced."

I nodded thoughtfully. "Balance is good. I can do balance." I raised an eyebrow at him. "Do I have specific time quotas to fill?" I asked, half-teasing.

He made a face, but shook his head. "I don't want to make this complicated. Just don't forget your friends…"

It was dilemma I was already struggling with. My friends. People who, for their own safety, I might never see again after graduation.

So what was the better course of action? Spend time with them while I could? Or start the separation now to make it more gradual? I quailed at the idea of the second option.

"…Particularly Kristoff," David added before I could think things through more than that.

A greater dilemma than the first. It took me a moment to find the right words. "Kristoff might be… difficult."

"The Blacks are practically family, Anna," he said, stern and fatherly again. "And Kristoff has been a very,verygood friend to you."

"Yes, he has."

"Don't you miss him at all?" David asked frustrated.

My throat suddenly felt swollen; I had to clear it twice before I answered. "Yes, I do miss him," I admitted, still looking down. "I miss him a lot."

"Then why is it difficult?"

I wasn't something I was at liberty to explain. It was against the rules for normal people—humanpeople like me and David—to know about the clandestine world full of myths and monsters that existed secretly around us. I knew all about that world—and I was in no small amount of trouble as a result. I wasn't about to get David in the same trouble.

"With Kristoff there is a… conflict," I said slowly. "A conflict about the friendship thing, I mean. Friendship doesn't seem to be enough for Kristoff." I wound my excuse out of details that were true but left out the part that Kristoff's werewolf pack bitterly hated Elsa's vampire family—and as far as they knew I was planning on becoming one of them. Even though I hadn't made any such decision. It wasn't something I could work out with him in a note, and he wouldn't answer my calls. But my plan to deal with the werewolf in person had definitely not gone over well with the vampires.

"Isn't Elsa up for a little healthy competition?" David's voice had a tinge of sarcasm in it.

I sighed. "I don't know if there's still a competition between them."

"You're hurting Kristoff's feelings, avoiding him like this. He'd rather be just friends than nothing."

Ah, nowIwas avoidinghim.

"I'm pretty sure Kristoff doesn't want to be friends at all." The words burned in my mouth. "Where'd you get that idea, anyway?"

David looked embarrassed now. "The subject might have come up with Billy…"

"You and Billy gossip like old women," I rolled my eyes, stabbing my fork into the congealed spaghetti on my plate.

"Billy's worried about Kristoff," David said. "Kristoff's having a hard time right now… He's depressed."

I felt a familiar ache in my chest, and the memory of Kristoff's face the last time I had seen him flashed across my mind.

"And then you were always so happy after spending the day with Kristoff." David sighed.

"I'm happynow." I had head meant to sound light and cheerful, but it came out as a pathetic whine.

The contrast between my words and tone broke through the tension. David burst into laughter, and I had to join in.

"Okay, okay," I agreed. "Balance."

"And Kristoff," he insisted.

"And Kristoff." I repeated.

"Good. Find that balance, Anna. And, oh, yeah, you've got some mail," David said, closing the subject with no attempt at subtlety. "It's by the stove."

I didn't move, my thoughts twisting into sadness around Kristoff's name. It was most likely junk mail; I'd just gotten a package from my mom yesterday and I wasn't expecting anything else.

David shoved his chair away from the table and stretched as he got to his feet. He took his plate to the sink, but before he turned the water on to rinse it, he paused to toss a thick envelope at me. The letter skidded across the table andthunked into my elbow.

"Er, thanks," I muttered, puzzled by his pushiness. Then I saw the return address — the letter was from the University of Alaska Southeast. "That was quick. I guess I missed the deadline on that one, too."

David chuckled.

I flipped the envelope over and then glared up at him. "It's open."

"I was curious."

"I'm shocked, Sheriff. That's a federal crime."

"Oh, just read it."

I pulled out the letter, and a folded schedule of courses.

"Congratulations," he said before I could read anything. "Your first acceptance."

"Oh, wow! Thanks, Dad."

"We should talk about tuition. I've got some money saved up —"

"Hey, hey, none of that. I'm not touching your retirement, Dad. I've got my college fund." What was left of it — and there hadn't been much to begin with.

David frowned. "Some of these places are pretty pricey, kiddo. I want to help. You don't have to go to all the way to Alaska just because it's cheaper."

It wasn't cheaper, not at all. But itwasfar away, and Juneau had an average of three hundred twenty-one overcast days per year. The first was my prerequisite, the second was Elsa's. If I was going to be hiding from murderous vampires, I wanted to be as far away from those I loved as possible. Well, thehumansI loved, at least.

"I've got it covered. Besides, there's lots of financial aid out there. It's easy to get loans." I hoped my bluff wasn't too obvious. I hadn't actually done a lot of research on the subject.

"So…" David began, and then he pursed his lips and looked away.

"So what?"

"Nothing. I was just . . ." He frowned. "Just wondering what . . . Elsa's plans are for next year?"

"Oh."

"Well?"

Three quick raps on the door saved me. David rolled his eyes and I jumped up.

"Coming!" I called while David mumbled something that sounded like, "Oh, great." I ignored him and went to let Elsa in.

I opened the door, and there she was.

Time had not made me immune to the perfection of her face. My eyes traced over her pale white features: the hard square of her jaw, the softer curve of her full lips — twisted up into a smile now, the straight line of her nose, the sharp angle of her cheekbones, the smooth marble span of her forehead — partially obscured by a tangle of rain-darkened blonde hair…

I saved her eyes for last, knowing that when I looked into them I was likely to lose my train of thought. They were wide, warm with liquid gold, and framed by a thick fringe of black lashes. Staring into her eyes always made my heart pound a little.

It was a face any female model in the world would trade her soul for. Of course, that might be exactly the asking price: one soul.

No. I didn't believe that. I felt guilty for even thinking it, and was glad—as I was often glad—that I was the one person whose thoughts were a mystery to Elsa.

She reached for my hand, and I felt a little spark of excitement when her cold fingers found mine. Her touch always did that to me, even now.

"Hey." I smiled.

She raised our interlaced fingers to brush my cheek with the back of her hand. "How was your afternoon?"

"Slow."

"For me, as well."

She pulled my wrist up to her face, our hands still twisted together. Her eyes closed as her nose skimmed along the skin there, and she smiled gently without opening them. Enjoying the bouquet while resisting the wine, as she'd once put it.

I knew that the scent of my blood—so much sweeter to her than any other person's blood, truly like wine beside water to an alcoholic—caused her actual pain from the burning thirst it engendered. But she didn't seem to shy away from it as much as she once had. I could only dimly imagine the Herculean effort behind this simple gesture.

It made me sad that she had to try so hard, but that dedication served her well in her effort to prove her love for me and end her probation.

I heard David approaching then. Elsa's eyes snapped open and she let our hands fall, keeping them twined.

"Good evening, David." Elsa was always flawlessly polite.

"Elsa." David nodded once, and then stood there with his arms crossed over his chest. He was taking the idea of parental supervision to extremes lately.

"I brought another set of applications," Elsa told me then, holding up a stuffed manila envelope. She was wearing a roll of stamps like a ring around her littlest finger.

I groaned. How were there any colleges left that she hadn't forced me to apply to already? And how did she keep finding these loophole openings? It was so late in the year.

She smiled as if shecouldread my thoughts; they must have been very obvious on my face. "There are still a few open deadlines. And a few places willing to make exceptions."

I could just imagine the motivations behind such exceptions. And the dollar amounts involved.

Elsa laughed at my expression.

"Shall we?" she asked, towing me toward the kitchen table.

"My hand is going to fall off if I have to fill out any more applications," I complained. "I think we've done enough."

Elsa ignored me, but she smiled.

David followed behind, protectively, thought he could hardly complain about the activity on tonight's agenda. He'd been pushing me to make a decision about college on a daily basis.

I cleared the table quickly while Elsa organized an intimidating stack of forms. When I movedWuthering Heightsto the counter, Elsa raised one eyebrow. I knew what she was thinking, but David interrupted before Elsa could comment.

"Speaking of college applications, Elsa," David said, trying to keep his tone polite—for my benefit, more than Elsas, "Anna and I were just talking about next year. Have you decided where you're going to school?"

Elsa smiled up at David and her voice was friendly. "Not yet. I've received a few acceptance letters, but I'm still weighing my options."

"Where have you been accepted?" David pressed.

"Syracuse…Harvard…Dartmouth… and I just got accepted to the University of Alaska Southeast today." Elsa turned her face slightly to the side so that she could wink at me. I stifled a laugh.

"Harvard? Dartmouth?" David mumbled, unable to conceal his awe. "Well that's pretty… that's something. Yeah, but the University of Alaska… you wouldn't really consider that when you could go to Ivy League. I mean, your father would want you to…"

"Carlisle's always fine with whatever I choose to do," Elsa told him serenely.

"Hmph."

"Guess what, Elsa?" I asked in a bright voice, playing along.

"What, Anna?"

I pointed to the thick envelope on the counter. "I justmyacceptance to the University of Alaska!"

"Congratulations!" She grinned. "What a coincidence."

David's eyes narrowed and he glared back and forth between the two of us. "Alright, alright," he muttered after a minute. "I'm going to watch the game, kiddo. Nine-thirty."

That was his usual parting reminder.

"Er, Dad? Remember the very recent discussion about my freedom…?"

He sighed. "Right, okay,ten-thirty. You still have a curfew on school nights."

"Anna's no longer grounded?" Elsa asked. Thought I knew she wasn't really surprised, I couldn't detect any false note to the sudden excitement in her voice.

"Conditionally," David corrected. "Why do you ask?"

I raised an unpleased eyebrow at my dad, but he didn't see.

"It's just good to know," Elsa said. "Alice has been itching for a shopping partner, and I'm sure Anna would love to see some city lights." She smiled at me.

But David's face went pale, "Absolutely not!"

"Dad? What's the matter?"

David looked at me, very serious. "I don't want you going to Seattle right now, Anna."

"Huh?"

"I told you about the story in the paper—there's some kind of gang on a killing spree in Seattle and I want you to steer clear, okay?"

"Oh," I considered this. "I mean, I'm pretty sure there's a better chance that I'll get struck by lightning than that the one day I'm in Seattle—"

"No, that's fine, David," Elsa said, interrupting me. "I didn't mean Seattle. Alice was thinking a trip to Portland, actually. Besides, I wouldn't have Anna in Seattle, either. Of course not."

I looked at her curiously, but she had David's newspaper in her hands and she was reading the front page intently.

She must have been trying to appease my father. The idea of being in danger from even the deadliest of humans while I was with Alice or Elsa was downright hilarious.

It worked though. David stared at Elsa for one second more, and then shrugged. "Okay, then." He hurried off toward the living room—I imagined he didn't want to miss tip-off.

I waited till the TV was on, so that David wouldn't be able to hear me.

"What—," I started to ask.

"Hold on, love," Elsa said without looking up from the paper. Her eyes stayed focused on the page as she pushed the first application toward me across the table. "I think you can recycle your essays for this one. Same questions."

David must still be listening. I sighed and started to fill out the repetitive information: name, address, social… after a few minutes I glanced up, but Elsa was now staring pensively out the window. As I bent my head back to my work, I noticed for the first time the name of the school.

I snorted and moved the papers aside.

"Anna?"

"Be serious, Elsa.Dartmouth?"

Elsa lifted the discarded application and laid it gently in front of me again. "I think you'd like New Hampshire," she said. "There's a full complement of night courses for me, and the forests are very conveniently located for the avid hiker. Plentiful wildlife." She pulled out the crooked smile she knew I couldn't resist.

I sighed.

"I'll let you pay me back, if that makes you happy," she promised. "If you want, I can charge you interest."

"Elsa, I couldn't even get in to Dartmouth without some enormous bribe. Or was that part of the loan? The new Cullen wing of the library?"

"Will you just fill out the application, please, Anna? It won't hurt you to apply."

I pouted and dramatically rubbed my wrist. "I think it just might."

She rolled her eyes at me, but I could see a smirk dancing on the edges of her mouth.

I sighed, and turned my attention back to the stack, grumbling, "Can't I do these online or something?"

I reached for the papers, but they were already gone. I stared at the empty table for a moment, and then at Elsa. She didn't appear to have moved, but the applications were probably around tucked away in her jacket.

"What are you doing?" My brows furrowed in confusion.

"I sign your name better than you do yourself. You've already written the essays."

"If this is an attempt to win you points by sparing me from filling out all these applications…" I narrowed my eyes at her. "…It's working."

She smiled her crooked smile again.

"But, honestly, Elsa, I don't really need to apply anywhere else. I've been accepted in Alaska. I can almost afford the first semester's tuition. It's far away, and everything…"

A pained look tightened her face. "Anna—"

"Don't start. I'd love to go somewhere else, Elsa. But if the… If we need to go into hiding, I want to be as far away from Forks as possible. If I'm already supposed to be in Alaska, it will make it easier for everyone if they haven't seen me as much to begin with. Plus, we'd be able to go stay with your cousins in Denali in a… worst case scenario…" I trailed off.

"Anna, don't you want a full,humancollege experience?" Elsa's eyes were pained as she asked me.

"I'd love it," I replied. "But we have to have plans in place, Elsa. It's just too dangerous to mess around with."

"There's no danger yet," she insisted.

I sighed in frustration. No danger? Sure. I only had a sadistic vampire trying to avenge her mate's death with my own, preferably through some slow and tortuous method. Who was worried about Gerda? And, oh yeah, the Volturi—the vampire royal family with their small army of vampire warriors—who insisted that my heart stop beating one way or another in the near future, because humans weren't allowed to know they existed. Right. No reason to panic.

Even with Alice keeping watch—Elsa relying on her uncannily accurate visions of the future to give us advance warning—it was insane to take chances.

Going to Alaska was the safest, smartest move I could think of. Either I went to college in a state where Elsa could stay by my side and protect me—far away from Forks and the people I loved—or if we couldn't run, she could change me and we could stay with her cousins in Denali for a while.

A sharp jolt of unease pierced my stomach as I realized how short time really was. Especially if the worstdidhappen and Elsadidhave to change me. Of course, there was no other choice—I couldn't stay in Forks, I couldn't put anyone at risk by being here much longer—but I was deeply conscious of David sitting in the other room enjoying his game, just like every other night. And my mother, Renée, far away in sunny Florida still pleading with me to spend the summer on the beach with her and her new husband. And Kristoff, who, unlike my parents, would suspect the worst when I disappeared to some distant school. Even if my parents didn't grow suspicious for a long time, even if I could put off visits with excuses about travel expenses or study loads or illnesses, Kristoff would know the truth.

For a moment, the idea of Kristoff's certain revulsion overshadowed every other pain.

"Anna," Elsa murmured, her face twisting when she read the distress in mine. "There's no hurry. I won't let anyone hurt you. You can take all the time you need."

"Who needs time," I whispered, smiling weakly, trying to make a joke of it. "Just make me a monster, already."

Her teeth clenched; she spoke through them. "You have no idea what you're saying." Abruptly, she flung the damp newspaper onto the table between us. Her finger stabbed the headline on the front page.

DEATH TOLL ON THE RISE,

POLICE FEAR GANG ACTIVITY

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"Monsters are not a joke, Anna."

I stared at the headline again, and then up to her hard expression. "A… avampireis doing this?" I whispered.

She smiled without humor. Her voice was low and cold. "You'd be surprised, Anna, at how often my kind are the source behind the horrors in your human news. It's easy to recognize, when you know what to look for. The information here indicates a newborn vampire is loose in Seattle. Bloodthirsty, wild, out of control. The way we all are."

I let my gaze drop to the paper again, avoiding her eyes.

"We've been monitoring the situation for a few weeks. All the signs are there—the unlikely disappearances, always in the night, the poorly disposed of corpses, the lack of other evidence… Yes, someone brand-new. And no one seems to be taking responsibility for the neophyte…" She took a deep breath. "Well, it's not our problem. We wouldn't even pay attention to the situation if it wasn't going on so close to home. Like I said, this happens all the time. The existence of monsters results in monstrous consequences."

I tried not to see the names on the page, but they jumped out from the rest of the print like they were in bold. The five people whose lives were over, whose families were in mourning now. It was different from considering murder in the abstract, reading those names. Maureen Gardiner, Geoffrey Campbell, Grace Razi, Michele O'Connell, Ronald Albrook. People who'd had parents and children and friends and pets and jobs and hopes and plans and memories and futures…

"If it comes to that, it won't be the same for me," I whispered, half to myself. "You won't let me be like that. We'll live in Antarctica."

Elsa snorted, breaking the tension. "Penguins. Lovely."

I laughed then, sliding the paper away so I wouldn't have to see those names anymore. Of course, Elsa would consider the hunting possibilities. She and her "vegetarian" family—all committed to protecting human life—preferred the flavor of large predators for satisfying their dietary needs. "Alaska, then, as planned. Only somewhere much more remote than Juneau—somewhere with grizzlies galore."

"Better," she allowed. "There are polar bears, too. Very fierce. And the wolves get quite large."

My mouth fell open and my breath blew out in a sharp gust.

"What's wrong?" She asked. Before I could recover, the confusion vanished and her whole body seemed to harden. "Oh. Never mind the wolves, then, if the idea is offensive to you." Her voice was stiff, formal, her shoulders rigid.

"He was my best friend, Elsa," I muttered. It stung to use the past tense. "Of course the idea offends me."

"Please forgive my thoughtlessness," she said, still very formal. "I shouldn't have suggested that."

"Don't worry about it." I stared at my hands, clenched into a double fist on the table.

We were both silent for a moment, and then her cool finger was under my chin, coaxing my face up. Her expression was much softer now.

"Sorry. Really."

"I know. I know it's not the same thing. I shouldn't have reacted that way. It's just that… well, I was already thinking about Kristoff before you came over." I hesitated. Her tawny eyes seemed to get a little darker whenever I said Kristoff's name. My voice turned pleading in response. "David says Kristoff is having a hard time. He's hurting right now, and… it's my fault."

"You've done nothing wrong, Anna."

I took a deep breath. "I need to make it better, Elsa. I have to. I owe him that. And it's one of David's conditions anyway—"

Her face changed while I spoke, turning hard again, statue-like.

"You know it's out of the question for you to be around a werewolf unprotected, Anna. And it would break the treaty if any of us cross over onto their land. Do you want us to start a war?"

"Of course not!"

"Then there's really no point in discussing the matter further." She dropped her hand and looked away, searching for a subject change. Her eyes paused on something behind me, and she smiled, though her eyes stayed wary.

"I'm glad David had decided to let you out—you're sadly in need of a visit to the bookstore. I can't believe you're readingWuthering Heightsagain. Don't you know it by heart yet?"

"Not all of us have photographic memories," I shrugged.

"Photographic memory or not, I don't understand why you like it. The characters are ghastly people who ruin each other's lives. I don't know how Heathcliff and Cathy ended up being ranked with couples like Romeo and Juliet or Elizabeth Bennet and Mr. Darcy. It isn't a love story, it's a hate story."

"You have some serious issues with the classics," I muttered.

"Perhaps it's because I'm not impressed by antiquity." She smiled, evidently satisfied that she'd distracted me. "Honestly, though, whydoyou read it over and over?" Her eyes were vivid with real interest now, trying—again—to unravel the workings of my mind. She reached across the table to cradle my face in her hand. "What is it that appeals to you?"

Her sincere curiosity disarmed me. "I'm not sure," I said, searching my brain for reasons. "I think it's something about the inevitability. How nothing can keep them apart—not her selfishness, or his evil, or even death, in the end…"

Her face was thoughtful as she considered my words. After a moment she smiled a teasing smile. "I still think it would be a better story if either of them had a redeeming quality."

"I think that may be the point," I disagreed. "Their loveistheir only redeeming quality."

"I hope you have better sense that that—to fall in love with someone so… malignant."

"It's a bit late for me to worry about who I fall in love with," I pointed out. "But even without the warning, I seem to have managed fairly well."

She laughed quietly. "I'm gladyouthink so."

"Well, I hope you're smart enough to stay away from someone so selfish. Catherine is really the source of all the trouble, not Heathcliff."

"I'll be on my guard," she promised.

I sighed. She was so good at distractions.

I put my hand over hers to hold it to my face. "I need to see Kristoff."

Her eyes closed. "No."

"It's really not dangerous at all," I said, insisting. "I used to spend all day in La Push with the whole lot of them, and nothing ever happened."

But I made a slip; my voice faltered at the end because I realized as I was saying the words that they were a lie. It was not true thatnothinghad happened. A brief flash of memory—an enormous gray wolf crouched to spring, baring his dagger-like teeth at me—had my palms sweating with an echo of remembered panic.

Elsa heard my heart accelerate and nodded as if I'd acknowledged the lie aloud. "Werewolves are unstable. Sometimes, the people near them get hurt. Sometimes, they get killed."

I wanted to deny it, but another image slowed my rebuttal. I saw in my head the once beautiful face of Emily Young, now marred by a trio of dark scars that dragged down the corner of her right eye and left her mouth warped forever into a lopsided scowl.

She waited, grimly triumphant, for me to find my voice.

"You don't know them," I finally said.

"I know them better than you think, Anna. I was here the last time."

"The last time?"

"We started crossing paths with the wolves about seventy years ago… We had just settled near Hoquiam. That was before Alice and Jasper were with us. We outnumbered them, but that wouldn't have stopped it from turning into a fight if not for Carlisle. He managed to convince Ephraim Black that coexisting was possible, and eventually we made the truce."

Kristoff's great-grandfather's name startled me.

"We thought the line had died out with Ephraim," Elsa muttered; it sounded like she was talking to herself now. "That the genetic quirk which allowed the transmutation had been lost…" She broke off and stared at me accusingly. "Your bad luck seems to get more potent every day. Do you realize that your insatiable pull for all things deadly was strong enough to recover a pack of mutant canines from extinction? If we could bottle your bad luck, we'd have a weapon of mass destruction on our hands."

I ignored the ribbing, my attention caught by her assumption—was she serious? "ButIdidn't bring them back. Don't you know?"

"Know what?"

"My bad luck had nothing to do with it. The werewolves came back because the vampires did."

Elsa stared at me, her body motionless with surprise.

"Kristoff told me that your family being here set things in motion. I thought you would already know…"

Her eyes narrowed. "Is that what they think?"

"Elsa, look at the facts. Seventy years ago, you came here, and the werewolves showed up. You come back now, and the werewolves show up again. Do you think that's a coincidence?"

She blinked and her glare relaxed. "Carlisle will be interested in that theory."

"Theory," I scoffed.

She was silent for a moment, staring out the window into the rain; I imagined she was contemplating the fact that her family's presence was turning the locals into giant dogs.

"Interesting, but not exactly relevant," she murmured after a moment. "The situation remains the same."

I could translate that easily enough: no werewolf friends.

I knew I had to try and be patient with Elsa. It wasn't that she was completely unreasonable—prone to taking things to extremes, sure—but not unreasonable. The problem was that she didn'tunderstand. She had no idea how very much I owed to Kristoff Black—my life many times over, and possibly my sanity, too. Perhaps the love between Kristoff and I was lost now, but I'd be damned if I didn't go to help my friend when he was in a bad place, just like he had done for me.

I didn't like to talk about that time with anyone anymore, and especially not Elsa.She had only been trying to save me when she'd left, trying to save my soul. I couldn't condone how she had gone about it, and she still had a lot of making up to do. But I, at least, was doing my best to forgive her.

She wouldn't forgive herself.

So I would have to word my explanation very carefully.

I got up and walked around the table. She opened her arms for me and I sat on her lap, resting into her cool stone embrace. I ran my hand through her hair and looked her straight in the eyes while I spoke.

"Please just listen to me for a minute. This is so much more important than some whim to drop in on an old friend. Kristoff is inpain." My voice distorted around the word. "I can'tnottry to help him—I can't give up on him now, when he needs me. Just because he's not human all the time… Well, he was there for me when I was… not feeling so human myself. You don't know what it was like…" I hesitated. Elsa's eyes closed and her arms were rigid around me; her hands were in fists now, the tendons standing out. "If Kristoff hadn't helped me… I wouldn't be where I am today. I owe him better than this, Elsa."

I watched her face warily. Her eyes were still closed, and her jaw was strained.

"I'll never forgive myself for leaving you," she whispered. "Not if I live a hundred thousand years."

I put my hand against her cold face and waited until she sighed and opened her eyes.

"I was really hoping you had learned your lesson about taking things to extremes." I kissed her on the forehead. "You thought you were doing the right thing, even if it was a really awful way of doing it." I ran my hand through her hair again. "Besides, you're here now. You're sorry, and you're trying to make up for it. That's the part that matters."

"If I'd never left, you wouldn't feel the need to go risk your life to comfort adog."

I flinched. I was used to Kristoff had all his derogatory slurs—bloodsucker, leach, parasite… Somehow it sounded harsher in Elsa's velvet voice.

"I don't know how to phrase this properly," Elsa said, and her tone was bleak. "It's going to sound cruel, I suppose. But I've come too close to losing you in the past. I know what it feels like to think I have. I amnotgoing to tolerate anything dangerous."

"You have to trust me on this. I'll be fine."

Her face was pained again. "Please, Anna," she whispered.

I stared into her suddenly burning golden eyes. "Please what?"

"Please, for me. Please make a conscious effort to keep yourself safe. I'll do everything I can, but I would appreciate a little help."

"I'll work on it," I murmured.

"Do you really have any idea how important you are to me? Any concept of how much I love you?" She pulled me tighter against her hard chest, tucking my head under her chin.

I pressed my lips against her snow-cold neck. "I know how muchIloveyou," I answered.

"You compare one small tree to the entire forest."

I rolled my eyes, but she couldn't see. "Ha."

She kissed the top of my head and sighed.

"No werewolves."

"No deal. I'm not going along with that. I have to see Kristoff."

"Then I'll have to stop you."

She sounded utterly confident that this wouldn't be a problem.

I was worried she was right.

"We'll see about that," I said anyway. "He's still my friend."

I could feel Kristoff's note in my pocket, like it suddenly weighed ten pounds. I could hear the words in his voice, and he seemed to be agreeing with Elsa—something that would never happen in reality.

Doesn't change anything. Sorry.

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