Penumbra Chapter 3: Threat, a twilight fanfic

Chapter Notes: Thank you, everyone, for your many wonderful reviews – and your patience! I know how anxious I get when I'm waiting for a story to update, and I appreciate you all hanging in there while these chapters are coming together.

That being said, this particular chapter was originally intended to be one very large update…but if I continue on, it will be massive, and I just can't keep you all in suspense any longer. So enjoy!

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I can smell dawn approaching as I race soundlessly through the forest to my family's home, the first few timid strains of birdsong echoing from the treetops above me.

Bella had finally quieted less than an hour ago; she was unusually talkative during the night, mumbling on and on about stupid essays and eating penguins, her fingers clutching my shirt like her subconscious was still fearful that I might disappear.

When the dog's name left her lips, however, I was the one whose grip automatically tightened around the curve of her waist. She appealed to him in her dreams for several minutes, wishing to see him, that same longing in her tone…until I could endure no more.

A whisper of a kiss graced the side of her throat, and I shushed her tenderly, humming the lullaby she inspired in her ear. Only then did her body completely relax beside mine, my name replacing the mutt's, and then she slumbered peacefully, her breaths deep and slow, a tiny smile on her face.

After promising to return before she woke up, I slipped from her bed and was out the window before she rolled over, burying her face in the pillow I had just vacated with a contented sigh.

The sight was enough to calm the knotted mass of hurt, jealousy, possessiveness and fear twisting within the pit of my stomach. Despite how she may feel about the dog, I am the one who is permitted to hold her as she sleeps, whose imprinted scent on the bedclothes she savors when we are apart.

That realization fuels my resolve to get back to her as soon as possible, and I quicken my pace, ghosting across the meadow to the front porch.

The house is dark, which is no surprise, as we have no trouble seeing perfectly well in any lighting, and the massive front room is empty. Tendrils of thought brush against my perception, and I discern that Alice and Jasper are still out hunting, Emmett and Rosalie are in their bedroom – I immediately tune them out, grimacing – Esme is in her studio, and Carlisle sits in his office, reading a volume of La Comédie humaine by Balzac in its original French.

Remembering Bella's theory about the Quileutes and their claims that our presence is the catalyst for their transformation, I first head upstairs to change, and then make my way to my father's study.

Come in, Edward, interrupts the rhythmic flow of words filling his mind when I am half a dozen steps from the doorway. Carlisle looks up with a faint smile of welcome as I cross the threshold, marking his place with a well-worn scrap of ivory ribbon – a keepsake from his and Esme's wedding ceremony.

I take a seat in one of the leather chairs arranged in front of his desk and rest my elbows on my knees, hands clasped loosely together. Alice told me to expect you sometime this morning, he thinks, and I said it would be a small wonder if you stayed at home long enough for any of us to even see you, let alone speak to you.

The statement could be interpreted as a rebuke, but the twinkle of mischief in Carlisle's topaz eyes softens the overall effect. I am happy for you, son, truly. We all are. The genuine warmth and affection in this thought prompts a slight grin from my lips. Just be sure to say hello to Esme before you go to school, he adds, picturing her standing outside the door to my room, a wistful expression on her face. She misses you, and Bella.

"I will," I promise him. Then I notice the small stack of newspapers – about a week's worth – perched on the bottom right corner of his desk, yesterday's headline glaring on top. "You've been keeping tabs on what's happening in Seattle," I observe quietly, "even though we agreed it wasn't our place to get involved."

He sighs, appearing weary, though it is physically impossible for one of us to tire. We still need to monitor the situation, in case the newborn expands its hunting grounds. Jasper thought it might be wise for he and Emmett to scout the city, but Alice convinced him to let it alone for now, which is why the two of them went hunting last night. Solemn, he remarks, Your brother will always be first and foremost a soldier. It makes him uneasy to remain uninformed in such circumstances. Ancient golden eyes level a troubled stare in my direction. He thinks there may be more than one.

Disquiet churns deep inside my chest. If there is indeed more than one newborn vampire wreaking havoc in Seattle, it will not be long before they draw unnecessary attention to themselves…which will inevitably attract the eye of the Volturi. And once their delegation arrives in Washington, it is only a short distance to Forks, and if they discover that the edict regarding Bella's transformation has not yet been obeyed…

I shove myself off the chair and begin to pace back and forth next to the wall of paintings, my thoughts boiling like an erupting volcano.

Carlisle watches my frenzied movements with a grave expression. You see the problem.

"It won't come to that," I mutter under my breath, willing it to be true. "I'll talk to Jasper. Maybe he and Emmett and I can head into the city and track the newborn, see if it can be reasoned with." A losing battle, in any case, but my father would like us to at least try to find a peaceful solution. "If not, the three of us can handle it. But if there's more than one –" I stop abruptly and rake a hand through my hair, closing my eyes. In the muted light, I can see the circular stone chamber, the burning crimson eyes, the genteel manners concealing the monsters garbed in black robes, and my Bella cowering in their midst.

I swallow hard, and whisper, "If there's more than one, they'll come. And I can't let them near Bella." I meet Carlisle's compassionate gaze head-on. "She will have a choice. The decision to become one of us will not be taken away from her."

My father nods once. I agree that we may need to be a bit more proactive with the situation in Seattle, but Alice will see if the Volturi decide to intervene, regardless. When and if that happens, we can determine the best course of action to protect Bella. In his mind, she became a part of our family the moment he realized my love for her, and he will do whatever he must to safeguard his fragile, human daughter.

"Thank you," I tell him sincerely, the calm assurance of his thoughts helping to uncoil the tension from my muscles, and I walk back to the chair I had upended in my outburst, righting it and sitting down in a single fluid motion.

Hoping to steer this conversation in a less treacherous direction, Carlisle raises an eyebrow as he comments, Speaking of Alice, she said that you would have an interesting hypothesis to share with me.

The corner of my mouth quirks into half a grin. "I do. And actually, it's Bella's hypothesis. She thinks she knows the reason why the transmutation gene has been triggered in the Quileutes again." His eyes light up with vivid fascination, and I briefly relay what Bella had explained last night about the presence of vampires in the area causing the adolescent males in the tribe to phase into wolves.

His thoughts swirl around this information like the eye of a hurricane, streaks of lightning cracking across the atmosphere as a new idea occurs. "Of course!" he exclaims aloud.

Bemused, I look on while he spins towards the bookcase behind his seat and pulls a book chronicling Quileute legends from the shelf. Flipping through the pages, he marvels inwardly, I believe that she could be right, Edward. Folklore usually contains a modicum of truth, and according to this – he points at the open book, to a photograph of a wooden mask carved to resemble a wolf – the Quileutes have a legend that their first chief was able to possess the body of a wolf in order to defeat his enemy, and then his sons had the ability to transform into wolves and act at the protectors of their people. And to them, their greatest adversaries are the Cold Ones.

He starts rifling through the book again, becoming more certain by the second that Bella is correct about our affect on the tribe.

"You do realize that you're basically stating that fairytales are real," I say, dubious.

Carlisle glances up at me. Well, yes. After all, we exist, don't we? A faint smile plays along the edges of his mouth.

I chuckle and shake my head. "Touché." My eyes drift sideways to the small clock resting on one of the shelves and I quickly stand. Carlisle hardly seems to notice. "I'd like to get back to Bella's before she wakes up," I offer in a mild tone. "I'll stop to see Esme and then head out." He makes some noncommittal noise in the back of his throat. I turn away to hide my smile and leave the study, heading further down the hall to the only brightly lit room in the entire house.

Esme's caramel-colored head snaps up as soon as I enter the studio, a wide smile on her pale face. "Edward!" How I love to see him so happy. He must be on his way back to Bella. She sets down her pencil and opens her arms, asking, Indulge your mother?

We embrace warmly, and I glance with interest at the sketches arrayed across the tabletop. It is a study of a small stone cottage – different views, changes in the windows and door, a small garden to one side, and so forth. This must be her latest renovation project. "It's beautiful," I tell her honestly.

"Oh!" For a moment, Esme seems a bit flustered that I remarked on her drawings, but then she beams at me with such delight that I think I must have imagined it. "It is quite lovely, isn't it?" She gestures to the half-completed image in front of her, this one of the same cottage with a stone pathway leading to a simple wooden door.

"For a client?" I pick up another drawing, captivated by the intricate detail, and have the sudden, fleeting thought that this is the sort of house Bella would love.

"No, just my own imagination," Esme replies, though there seems to be something secretive in her tiny smile. "Carlisle and I came upon this old ruined cottage in the woods a few days ago and I was playing with the idea of returning it to its former glory." A sun-dappled glade surfaces in her mind's eye, a crumbling heap of stone and rotted wood marring the otherwise idyllic landscape.

It could be perfect… she sighs to herself, before switching her thoughts to a memory of Bella and I seated together in the front room, laughing at Alice, Jasper, Emmett, and Rosalie as they played cards. We haven't all been together like that in so long, Esme thinks sadly.

Grinning, I tell her with excitement, "Well, Bella is no longer grounded; maybe she'll want to come by later tonight."

In response, she throws her arms around me, joy replacing her melancholy thoughts.

The back door clicks open at the same time that my name echoes through my head, and I pull away from Esme, her wish for me to have a good day flitting across my perception while I dash downstairs, meeting Alice and Jasper beside the window wall. The cloud-filled sky has lightened to a smoky lavender, and I am filled with renewed urgency to return to Bella, not wanting her to awaken without me there.

Seventeen minutes, Edward, Alice announces mentally, noticing my worried glance out the windows.

At the same time, Jasper says in his usual quiet voice, his irises buttery gold from hunting and filled with sobriety, "Alice saw what you are planning about Seattle. I'll go with you whenever you're ready. It is unwise to allow the newborn to run amuck in the city for much longer." I don't want the Volturi here any more than you do, he adds, remembering the designs Aro has for Alice and myself to join the guard.

Muffled scrabbling noises ring out above us, and suddenly Emmett barrels down the stairs. "Count me in, too," he declares. "I've been itching for something fun to do." He cracks his massive knuckles, an eager grin baring his brilliant white teeth.

Rosalie appears behind him an instant later, glowering first at the back of Emmett's dark head, and then at me. You just had to put that idea into his head, she snarls.

I shrug, unapologetic. We have to decide to do something, or else we leave entirely too much of this situation to chance.

Sighing, Alice folds her tiny arms across her chest. "It will probably accomplish nothing," she remarks in a drab tone.

I round on her, asking intently, "Have you seen something?"

One black eyebrow arches in response. Then she says, a bit annoyed, "You know the visions don't work that way. I won't see the three of you in Seattle until you decide to go."

"Then let's decide to go this weekend," Emmett puts in loudly, and looks to me for approval. I'm tired of beating around the bush with this.

An icy trickle of doubt starts to seep into my veins as I think of Bella being left on her own for the whole weekend. I haven't been gone for more than a day since the trip home from Italy, and not only because I cannot bear to be apart from her, but also because a vengeful nomad is still at large, hungering for Bella's death. Not to mention the fact that Bella seems more determined than ever to pay a visit to the dog. Could I trust her to keep herself safe while I am in Seattle?

"Ugh." Alice squeezes her eyes shut and rubs her temples with her fingers. A chaotic whirlwind of colors and motion floods her mind, shifting with each passing second, impossible to comprehend. "Stop being so indecisive, Edward," she complains.

"I can't leave Bella unprotected," I retort, sharper than I would have liked. My brain cannot even seem to fathom separating from her for almost three days, and my hollow stomach clenches painfully as I envision her asleep in her bed right at this very moment, so small and warm and vulnerable. No, I will not leave her alone while I am hundreds of miles away. It is too dangerous.

Immediately, Alice's vision clears. A rainy woods appears, the trees flashing past in a blur of green and brown – then a streak of white interrupts the muted, earthy colors. The horizon whirls sideways, and everything just…flickers out. Black covers the images like spilled ink, and Alice's eyelids flutter as she comes back to the present, her expression strangely resigned. Not again…

"Again?" I step towards her, still half-lost in the vision she inadvertently shared. "You've had this vision before?"

"I've been seeing the same thing on and off all night," she murmurs, disconcerted. "No matter how much I concentrate, it stays the same. The same stretch of woods, the same streak of white, and then it fades." A deep frown mars her elfin features. "It's really frustrating."

"But what does it mean?" By now, I am standing directly in front of her, staring down at the top of her spiky black hair.

"I don't know!" she shouts angrily.

I blink in surprise. The others have frozen, shocked, since Alice is not known for lashing out – especially at me.

Her shoulders slump, and Jasper tucks her tiny frame into his side, using his touch to calm her tense emotions. "Sorry," she sighs, glancing up at me with contrite topaz eyes. "I just wish I could make more sense of it. It feels…important, somehow. But I can't get it to change." What worries me the most is that blankness at the end, she thinks, her arms tightening around her rib cage. Aloud, she says, "It's like the vision is only halfway finished, but I can't see what happens next."

"So…" Emmett interjects slowly, struggling to keep up with our unusual conversation. "Your psychic transmitter is getting all scrambled by something, and you can't watch the rest of the show." He seems proud of himself at coming up with a suitable analogy.

A weak smile flits across Alice's face. "In simplest terms, yes. And I really wish I could change the channel. Watching the same trees over and over again…" She shudders delicately. "I can only take so much of the National Geographic montage."

"The vision will resolve itself in due time," Jasper tells her in a low, gentle voice. "It always does. We'll just go about our business and wait to see if any decisions affect the outcome." She takes too much upon herself. Her gift doesn't make her omniscient – it just makes her better prepared. He rubs a palm along Alice's upper arm, already missing the exuberance that his mate normally radiates like a star.

Emmett slouches onto the staircase, grumbling, "I guess the trip to Seattle is a no-go."

"Not until we know more," I reply, and then turn on heel to walk towards the front door. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have somewhere I need to be." The desire to see Bella, to breathe in her burning-sweet scent and feel her warmth, is a palpable ache in my chest. "I'll be back in a half-hour, Alice," I call as the door swings shut, and dart into the trees. If my calculations are correct, I have less than seven minutes to reach Bella's bedroom window and lay down beside her before she opens her eyes.

I increase my stride, thrilling with the speed, the damp air creating tiny beads of moisture on my skin.

The little white house gleams like a beacon through the thinning leaves as I pause just out of sight, aware that Charlie is going about his morning routine in the kitchen. Through the window, I watch him pour a cup of coffee and then turn around to sit at the table and read the paper.

While his back is to the front lawn, I race forward and scale the side of the house, slipping through Bella's open window without a sound.

Almost on cue, she inhales a deep breath and rolls onto her back, stretching out beneath the threadbare quilt. I seize the opportunity to fit myself in the space next to her on the mattress, resting my head on the edge of her pillow, my ravenous gaze feasting on her sleepy form as though I have not seen her in days instead of a mere hour.

She lets out a low groan while her spine arcs over the bedspread, and then her dark eyes flutter open, automatically shifting to the side to land on my smiling face. "Good morning," she says through a wide yawn.

I push a few strands of hair from her cheek with my fingertips. "Did you sleep well?"

Bella rolls her shoulders in a slight shrug, avoiding my stare as she mutters, "I guess." Propping herself up on an elbow, she runs her fingers through her tangled locks, and glances at me with a halfhearted smirk. "I don't think sleep is something I'm going to miss when I'm a vampire."

"Bella…" I moan, covering my face with the crook of my arm. She must have a personal goal to try and drive me insane.

She shoves against my chest – the sensation is lighter than a warm breeze – and starts to clamber over my outstretched legs. "Fine, be a grump. I need to take a shower."

One foot braced firmly on the floor, her other leg is trapped inside the twisted mass of sheets, but of course she does not realize it until she tries to stand. A gasp parts her lips, and she teeters sideways, her arms flapping uselessly in the air.

I sit up in a blur, securing her flailing body in my grasp just as Bella jerks her foot out of the blankets. The additional force causes her to sprawl across my body and I fall back onto the bed, her feather-light weight pressed into my torso, and then her chin knocks into my breastbone with an audible thump.

"Ouch," she mumbles a beat later.

"Are you all right?" I demand, lifting a hand to examine her chin, cursing myself for not reacting sooner. I tilt her head from side to side, searching for any trace of bruising on her creamy skin.

"I'm fine." Her reply is muffled a little by my hand still cupping her chin. "Just clumsy, like usual." She adjusts her position a fraction of an inch – and then her eyes widen, her heartbeat galloping madly beneath her breast.

I cease to breathe, unable to focus on little else except the heat of Bella's body seeping into my own through the layers of fabric, her hips perfectly aligned with mine. A rush of white-hot electricity scalds my cold flesh, and a barrage of sensation assaults my entire being. I instinctively freeze in place, though the knot of yearning in my stomach coils unbearably tight, begging to pull her closer, to feel every line of her soft body against my own.

My mind immediately rejects such a reckless action, common sense advising me to break away from this intimate, charged position – but then Bella leans forward, her breath warming my lips, and my traitorous body responds. The kiss is surprisingly tender, her petal-soft mouth barely caressing mine, which only increases my longing for more.

Afraid of hurting her if I cannot maintain control of my rash impulses, my hands slip from her waist and fist in the bedclothes. Then I retreat from her a few inches, swallowing hard. "You should get ready for school," I murmur, my voice husky.

Bella's heavy-lidded eyes blink several times, cognizance leaking into her deep brown orbs, and a predictable blush blazes across her face, tinting even the tips of her ears a rosy pink. "Right. School. Shower." More careful this time, she scoots off the bed – or more accurately, off me – and walks to the dresser, retrieving her bag of toiletries.

I sit up, my feet dangling from the end of the mattress, while she rummages through her closet. This is for you, Alice. I clear my throat a little and remark casually, "It's going to be a bit warmer today. Why don't you wear that yellow outfit hanging on the end?"

She turns to look at me, disbelieving. "Since when do you care about what clothes I wear?" Her eyes narrow in suspicion. "Did Alice ask you to say something?" She does not give me a chance to answer, and instead rambles on to herself grouchily. "She did, didn't she? Well, I'm not about to wear some designer outfit just because she wants to convert me into a fashionista."

To prove her point, Bella shoves said outfit to the very back of the closet, hiding it from view, and comes back out holding a faded pair of jeans and a light blue t-shirt with the name of a band she likes printed on the front. "This is what I'm wearing," she announces, displaying both for a full second before throwing them over an arm and stomping towards the bedroom door.

I cut her off, delicately taking her flushed, irritated face in my hands. "It doesn't matter to me what you wear, love. You always look beautiful." Smiling crookedly, I confess, "I thought I'd at least give it a try so that Alice will get off my back about the clothes she picked out for you."

"It's too much, Edward," she protests, looking uncomfortable. "I could never afford to buy this kind of stuff for myself."

"And Alice knows that," I assure her in a soothing tone, "which is precisely why she wants to buy them for you. It's one of the ways she shows how much she loves you." I smooth my thumbs over her cheeks, wondering when she will realize that my sister's reasons for purchasing high-end garments to fill her small closet with are the same as my reasons for wanting to give her gifts that she considers herself unworthy of – like a reliable vehicle.

Bella frowns up at me like she understands the double meaning in my words, and I chuckle, bending to press my lips to her wrinkled brow. "But Alice also knows how stubborn you are. She won't push the issue again for a while." And if I had to hazard a gamble, I would say that will last two weeks at most.

Lowering my hands, I step back, heading for my usual exit. "I'll pick you up at seven-fifteen," I promise her, and then drop easily to the wet grass two stories below, looping around the far side of the house to avoid unwanted attention from the nearest neighbor collecting their newspaper from the front stoop.

The wind sings in my ears as I race through the forest once again, bypassing the house completely to reach the garage, where Alice is already waiting in the back seat of the Volvo, moping.

Thanks anyway for trying, she sends while I get in and start the engine. But mark my words: one day, Bella's going to be glad of my impressive shopping skills. Her inky-colored head bobs in self-assurance.

I cannot resist teasing her a little. "Is that a prophecy or wishful thinking?" I inquire innocently.

She kicks the back of my seat with her foot, shaking the whole car in the process. Ingrate.

My answering laughter is abruptly cut short when the same mystifying vision from early this morning floats through Alice's mind again. She exhales heavily and scrunches her eyebrows together, like she is trying to rid the images from her brain by sheer force of will.

"No change?" I ask quietly, hearing the incredible amount of frustration saturating her thoughts.

Not yet. And it won't leave me alone, either. She knocks her head back against the leather seat cushion, her nose wrinkling in distaste. I hate not knowing what's going to happen.

I stare unseeing out the rain-splattered windshield and whisper, "Me, too."

I pull into the driveway just as Bella appears at the front door, tugging the hood of her raincoat over her head. "Edward's taking me to school, Dad," she calls over her shoulder.

Charlie grunts in reply, his sharp eyes zeroing in on the Volvo's front seat, though I doubt he can see my expression from the kitchen window through the sheets of rain.

It will be okay, Edward, Alice declares while Bella jogs towards the passenger side. I lean over swiftly and open the door for her. You'll know when I know. "Morning, Bella!" she greets with a cheerful smile after Bella settles into the seat, the rain amplifying her scent so that it blooms gorgeously inside the car. "Did you eat breakfast yet?"

The half-second's hesitation is all the answer she needs. "Um…"

"Here." Alice proffers a wrapped granola bar. "It's your favorite." Though is smells positively revolting.

Bella munches on her small meal on the way to school while Alice chatters about making plans for a shopping trip to Portland in the next few days, since she had seen my suggestion to Charlie after he released Bella from being grounded.

The three of us walk to class together, Alice and I on either side of Bella, and the day continues on its expected path. My only concern is the odd vision that keeps plaguing Alice every hour or so, replaying the same forest scene like a loop of film and someone has forgotten to change the reel. She tries to put it out of her head as soon as it ends, and I follow her lead. I do not want Bella to notice my unease.

As the hours wear on, it occurs to me that the overall atmosphere of the school is bathed in excitement – impacting the senior class in particular – as conversations center around college acceptance letters, prom, and graduation. Even Bella seems to be affected by the thrill in the air. A bright smile is affixed to her heart-shaped face while we stroll hand-in-hand to the cafeteria, and I feel a grin tugging on my mouth in response to her joyful mood.

After collecting a suitable assortment of food in order to keep up appearances that both she and I will be eating, we weave through the round white tables crowded with students to our usual spot.

Angela Weber and her boyfriend Ben Cheney are already seated; Ben is absorbed in a popular graphic novel, adding the sound effects mentally as he reads to himself, and Angela is showing Alice a brochure from the University of Washington, pointing out the different courses in their arts program.

I set the tray down with one hand while pulling out a chair for Bella with the other, her tiny smile at my ingrained sense of chivalry momentarily chasing the worry from my mind.

The two girls look up at our arrival. Angela smiles vaguely in welcome, her thoughts racing with a list of tasks she needs to accomplish in the few weeks left before school ends, but her kind nature prompts her to notice the faint circles underneath Bella's brown eyes. She looks tired. I wonder if she's got a lot on her mind because of graduation, too.

If she only knew.

"Have you sent your announcements yet?" Angela asks while Bella surveys the lunch fare I had purchased with resignation.

Glancing at her friend, Bella becomes aware of Alice's poorly concealed perusal of her clothing, her gold eyes darting back and forth as she laments, Her entire wardrobe lacks imagination. If she would just wear what I bought for her – especially that beaded beige Amaya Arzuaga camisole –

I tune out her fashion monologue at the same time that Bella releases a weary-sounding sigh, almost like she can hear Alice's critique. Then she says to Angela, "No. There's no point, really. Renée knows when I'm graduating. Who else is there?" She plucks a slice of fruit from the tray and plops it into her mouth.

Considerate as always, Angela looks to my sister with genuine interest. "How about you, Alice?"

Alice switches her thoughts from the benefits of this spring's color trends and smiles angelically, careful to not show her teeth. "All done," she fibs with effortless ease.

"Lucky you." Angela drops her chin into her palm with a sigh, an irked expression on her face that seems so out of character for the normally mild-tempered girl. "My mother has a thousand cousins and she expects me to hand-address one to everybody," she complains to the table at large. A paper box stacked full of cards and envelopes floats across her mind's eye, and she cringes a beat later, her writing hand tingling in remembered pain. "I'm going to get carpal tunnel. I can't put it off any longer and I'm just dreading it." She sighs again. You have no one to blame but yourself for procrastinating, Angela.

Bella instantly jumps to the aid of her good friend, offering with a slight smile, "I'll help you. If you don't mind my awful handwriting."

The corner of my mouth quirks upward in pleasure. Now that I have a clearer picture of what Charlie had meant about 'balance' before I officially arrived at the house yesterday evening, I am glad that Bella is reaching out to her safe, human friends in order to comply with her father's prerequisites for her freedom.

"That's so nice of you," Angela says gratefully. "I'll come over any time you want." As long as it's okay with your dad, she adds to herself, unaware for the moment that Bella's punishment has been lifted.

"Actually, I'd rather go to your house if that's okay – I'm sick of mine." A glorious, jubilant grin shines out from Bella's heart-shaped face. "Charlie un-grounded me last night," she announces victoriously.

Angela blinks in surprise. "Really?" Her memory of when Bella first explained the terms of Charlie's sentence flashes through her mind, and she remarks with cautious optimism, "I thought you said you were in for life."

"I'm more surprised than you are," Bella replies, her tone honest and flavored with bright notes of glee. "I was sure I would at least have finished high school before he set me free." She picks at a bagel with the same disinterest that I have towards food, but thankfully puts a small portion in her mouth before I ask her to eat something, if just to give me peace of mind.

Brimming with enthusiasm, Angela declares, "Well, this is great, Bella! We'll have to go out to celebrate." Her dark eyes examine fleetingly the way Bella's posture and mine seems to curl our bodies towards one another, and her mental voice ponders, Maybe we can all do something fun together. I think everyone could use a break from the pressures of the future.

Truly, her wisdom and insight is surprisingly well developed for one so young.

She and Bella share the conspiring smiles of two friends eager for distraction, and then Bella sighs, "You have no idea how good that sounds."

Never one to be left out of event planning, Alice leans forward in her seat, her pixie face aglow. "What should we do?" Her thoughts are already racing in a thousand different directions, picturing a drive to Las Vegas, a boat ride to Canada, and – for the love of all that's holy – a shopping trip to Paris.

A hint of foreboding crosses Bella's otherwise carefree expression as she studies my sister for a moment. "Whatever you're thinking, Alice," she warns, "I doubt I'm that free."

I give her a meaningful stare, as well; the ideas now entering her mind are growing more fantastical by the second.

Don't give me that look, Edward. Alice sends a stubborn scowl in my direction too quickly for any human to notice. If it were up to me, this would be a girls-only celebration.

"But it's not up to you, is it?" I mutter in a low voice, my lips scarcely vibrating with the swift retort.

She envisions sticking her tongue out at me and then appeals to Bella, cajoling, "Free is free, right?"

"I'm sure I still have boundaries – like the continental U.S., for example." Bella folds her arms and looks pointedly at her best friend, well aware of Alice's extravagant tendencies, and smiles just a little when Ben and Angela laugh at what could logically be considered a joke to anyone more sensible than my sister.

I smirk at her, smugly amused, and rest my arm on the back of Bella's chair.

Alice pouts like a disappointed child. Party pooper. "So what are we doing tonight?" she asks, determined to invoke some sort of entertainment from this impromptu meeting.

"Nothing," Bella answers in her trademark obstinate tone. But upon noticing Alice's crestfallen expression, she gives in a little, murmuring, "Look, let's give it a couple of days to make sure he wasn't joking. It's a school night, anyway," she adds as further reason to end the discussion.

Undeterred, Alice pronounces confidently, "We'll celebrate this weekend, then." I can be patient. She shoots me a dark glare when I snort very quietly in disbelief. And it gives me more time to plan… Her mind begins to chase after several unlikely but still plausible scenarios.

Bella appears to realize that my sister will never surrender, and says in hopes of appeasing her, "Sure."

"Angela," Alice twists in her seat to face the soft-spoken brunette, "what do you think about going to see a concert in Portland?"

Her eyes widen in bewilderment. "A concert? Wouldn't that be kind of expensive?"

Ben looks up from his graphic novel, his glasses perched on the very tip of his blunt nose. Concert? He pushes the wire rims back into their proper place and says, "Are you talking about the concert that's going to be at East End Friday night?" The image of an advertisement from the newspaper pops into his thoughts.

Alice nods at Ben, and then flicks a hand dismissively as she addresses Angela's concern. "Not a problem. The group is indie, anyway, so the cover charge won't be outrageous." She beams with innocent charm at the pair, waiting for their approval.

"But…" I can see in Ben's mind that he has discovered a flaw in Alice's idea. "Don't you have to be twenty-one to get in that place?"

He and Angela stare expectantly at the tiny black-haired vampire, and she grimaces in aggravation, cursing under her breath.

While those three throw around options – one involving bowling, of all things – I content myself with an unobstructed view of Bella's profile, a surge of muted delight over her nearness drowning out the constant hum of adolescent musings that echoes in my head. The sparkle of elation that I had seen within her dark eyes just a moment ago has rapidly begun to wane, and I watch in growing puzzlement as she drops her chin and frowns at the smudged tabletop, her bottom lip pushed out ever so slightly, her closed-off body language broadcasting discontentment.

The eternal question burns on the tip of my tongue. I prepare to interrupt whatever thought is ruining her mood – when all of a sudden Alice lets out a tiny gasp, her mind screeching my name frantically.

I latch onto her thoughts and am instantly pulled into the now familiar vision of a blurry forest consuming the field of view, and then a streak of white flashes past…and that is when the vision changes.

Shifting course to the left, the line of white seems to slow, other colors bleeding into the pale shape: denim, tan, and a vivid splash of red. Dread sinks into the pit of my stomach, warning me of what that brilliant hue could entail, but I stay focused, looking on with Alice as the blended colors form into a figure weaving through the trees like a stalking predator.

The figure crouches down in the underbrush, thick fiery hair hanging in snarls around a hardened feline-like face, and stormy crimson eyes peer out from the wet green leaves at an unsuspecting neighborhood.

I recognize the area immediately – even without noticing the little white house at the far end, a police cruiser and a rusted red truck parked out front.

All of my senses explode into overdrive, the natural tendencies of my species freezing my body into a motionless statue.

Victoria is coming back to Forks.

And she is coming for Bella.

My first instinct – the first instinct of any creature, really – is self-preservation. And it is an indisputable fact that Bella is the literal essence of my existence. Every fiber of my being screams to take her into my arms and never let go, to pull her fragile body inside my invulnerable stone shell and protect her from a monster hell-bent on revenge.

Victoria is obsessed with the desire to end the life of my love because I had destroyed hers in a ballet studio in Phoenix over a year ago, and her idea of justice is a warped interpretation of the phrase 'an eye for an eye'. A mate for a mate.

I strangle the snarl threatening to erupt from my throat. Victoria will never get close enough to my Bella to even smell her, let alone harm a single hair on her head. I will rip her apart and burn the shredded remains of her corpse myself. I was denied the chance to deliver the killing blow to James after he viciously attacked my Bella and infected her with his venom, but this time I will end this menace with my own hands.

First and foremost, I must guarantee Bella's safety. When Victoria reaches Forks, Bella has to be somewhere else – just as a precaution. Once she is well defended, my brothers and I will track the nomad.

Part of me does not want her to see the violence I am prepared to unleash – to see the reflection of the monster in my eyes when I have strived so hard to show her the man – and it is that same part that urges me to shield Bella from the knowledge of this future. She should not have to live in fear because of something I should have dealt with months ago. I will tell her everything once it is finished.

Meanwhile, Alice is replaying the vision over and over in her head, trying to determine the exact time of Victoria's arrival. Sometime this weekend, she mutters to herself. I can't pin it down any closer than that; something's still interfering with what I can see. She stares with vacant topaz eyes as she scans for all possible outcomes, half of the visions swirling by too fast for me to discern, but she continues to pick out details with expert precision.

A handful of seconds has passed: time enough for the others at our table to realize that something is amiss. Angela peers at my sister in confusion. "Alice?" She just stopped talking in mid-sentence. Is she okay? "Alice!" She waves a hand in front of Alice's blank expression, becoming alarmed when there is no response.

Ben glances at me, unnerved by the harsh lines around my mouth and eyes – which I swiftly erase as he looks away – and thinks, Bella's freaked out by this, too. Look at her face. Through his thoughts, I see Bella staring at Alice, her brown eyes round and panic-stricken and her cheeks drained of all color.

My lifeless heart writhes in anguish, prompting me to resume the masquerade of normalcy if only to banish that wide-eyed horror from Bella's face and mollify her friends' concern. After decades of practice, it is too easy to mask what is brewing within and put on an effortless smile, a light chuckle breaking the tense quiet.

Ben and Angela are caught by my distraction, their gazes shifting in my direction, but Bella refuses to look away from Alice, who appears almost catatonic while her mind races at lightning speed through knotted threads of future events.

I kick her shin with the toe of my boot. She jumps, startled back into the present, her eyelids fluttering while half-formed thoughts scatter like windblown leaves in her head. What…?

"Is it naptime already, Alice?" I rib her playfully, but with my eyes I motion to our surrounding audience, reminding her of where we are and how she needs to behave to avoid unwanted attention.

She gives her head a little shake and smiles in apology. "Sorry," she says in her usual chirpy voice, "I was daydreaming, I guess." You didn't have to kick me, though, she scolds, pulling her short legs out of my reach beneath the table.

Ben accepts Alice's excuse in predictable human fashion, his mind already moving on to more comfortable thoughts as he peers up at the clock mounted on the cafeteria wall and sighs. "Daydreaming's better than facing two more hours of school."

On the other hand, his girlfriend is far more perceptive. That was weird, Angela comments to herself. I've never seen Alice space out like that before…and Bella still looks worried about it. Her face swims into view in the girl's mind. The panic has faded from Bella's gaze, replaced by anxious scrutiny as she looks back and forth between Alice and I, no doubt full of complicated questions.

"Then let's daydream about what we should do for fun this weekend!" Alice proclaims brightly. And in just a couple of sentences, she succeeds in drawing Ben and Angela back into a lighthearted conversation about plans that will definitely be postponed. At the same time, her multi-layered brain is able to sift through the details of her vision of Victoria and have a separate, silent discussion with me. We can catch her before she gets to Forks, Edward. She won't get that close to Bella and Charlie. I'll tell the others what I saw after school lets out – I know you're not going to leave Bella alone.

Feigning absentmindedness, I rotate my hand curved around the top of Bella's chair and twine a lock of her hair around my fingers. The texture is like warm silk against my cool skin, and I watch as the light reflects shades of auburn, chestnut and mahogany in each delicate strand.

Alice is aware that I am still listening, so she goes on. Victoria will arrive from the southeast; that should be enough for us to try and nail down exactly where she'll be once she reaches the forest. She hesitates briefly, and then suggests, You probably won't like this…but you know Victoria's scent better than the rest of us. What if you take Jazz and Em while we keep an eye on Bella? I might be able to convince Charlie to let her spend the weekend at our house –

No. I clench my jaw and barely stop myself from growling in denial. I have left the protection of the most precious gift I have ever been given in other hands before, and I will not do it again. As much as I thirst for retribution against Victoria, my overwhelming need to stay with Bella and keep her safe takes precedence.

Once the decision solidifies in my mind, Alice receives fleeting images of me accompanying Bella to the airport…the interior of a plane…and palm trees dotted along the edge of a sunlit beach. Palm trees? she asks, confused. Where are earth are you planning to go?

She meets my eyes for a few seconds, puzzling out the possibilities, but she returns her attention to Angela when she senses Bella's watchful stare. You're not going to tell her, are you? It is more of a statement than a question. My sister knows me very well.

I peer slowly to one side of the cafeteria, and then to the other – the equivalent of a negative reply in our invented method of non-verbal communication.

I suppose that's best. Bella does worry too much. But you have to realize that she's not going to let this go. A quick flash of Bella's stubborn glower flits through her thoughts. She'll ask about my vision as soon as she has a chance.

Yes, I know. I will have to distract her, or keep us within earshot of those who must remain ignorant so she cannot voice her questions.

There is also the distinct possibility that I will have to lie – something I vowed never to do to her again after spouting that poisonous blasphemy last September – but I have to ensure her wellbeing, which means that Victoria's imminent arrival must stay secret. Bella should not have to spend the entire weekend in fear, jumping at every shadow, when there is no real danger. The nomad will never lay a finger on her, so why upset her needlessly?

Seeing my strategy for the remainder of the day, Alice agrees, I'll help as best I can. And I'll try to clear out the blank spots in my visions of what will happen after Victoria gets here. The bell rings, and she leaps gracefully to her feet. "Well, I have to stop at my locker for my history book. See you later!" With a final wave, she sweeps out the double doors, her petite frame blending in with the students crowding the hallway.

I stand and deliver the tray of half-eaten food to the wastebasket while Bella jerks out of her seat almost aggressively, grasping my hand once I return, and I imagine that she wants to pull me aside before our next class and grill me for answers.

Luckily, we trail after Angela and Ben, and I stroll over to his side, inquiring in a friendly tone, "Did you start on the Calculus assignment yet?" Calculus is the one class I do not share with Bella, but she is not liable to forget that I finished all of my homework in less than an hour as she was struggling through a particular set of problems the other night.

Sure enough, she glares at me in a mixture of disbelief and annoyance as Ben blinks in surprise, astonished that I am speaking to him about an assignment when he is certain that my IQ is most likely the highest in the school. "Y-yeah," he stutters a bit, and then clears his throat. "Yeah, I did. It's a little tougher than I thought it would be."

The two of us confer while Angela veers off to her English class and Bella clings tightly to my hand, her bewildered chocolate eyes following my every move long after Ben jogs towards his class and I lead the way to our desks.

Using a fair amount of careful maneuvering, I manage to keep Bella and myself surrounded by familiar faces and inane conversation throughout the rest of the school day without seeming too deliberate.

When the final bell is due to ring, I glance around wildly for someone to talk with – and to my intense displeasure, that someone is Mike Newton. The boy is lucky to be alive and in one piece after all his inappropriate mental fantasies about my Bella, but I am not above employing his services if it will protect her from unnecessary knowledge.

His mind is simple, and easily distinguished from the din, as I have plucked out his thoughts numerous times in the past. He is mulling over a discussion he and Tyler had this morning as they examined Mike's car, though both boys have limited experience with mechanical repairs.

The bell trills, and everyone prepares to leave in a rush of enthusiasm, pulling on coats and hats to ward off the unusual chill in the spring air. Mike tugs on a jacket and slings his backpack over a shoulder, shuffling towards the door. Hope the thing starts… I don't know how I'm gonna afford to get it fixed…

Swallowing my pride, I leave Bella to finish bundling up and walk after him. "Hey, Mike," I call, modulating my tone to a mild, amiable level.

He spins around, instantly on the defense. "What, Cullen?"

The soft pulse behind me accelerates, betraying Bella's suddenly frazzled nerves, and I have to concentrate mightily to avoid turning around to offer reassurance. Instead, I raise my hands in a gesture of goodwill, informing Mike with a faint smirk, "I come in peace. I just had noticed driving in this morning that you had the hood open on your car and wondered if you were having trouble."

He gapes like a fish for almost half a minute, questions stumbling around in his skull clumsily. What does he care if I'm having car trouble? Is he offering to help? Does he know about cars? Just because he drives that Volvo doesn't mean…but if he has an idea about what's wrong… He rubs the back of his neck awkwardly and mutters, "It's having a hard time starting up. I've tried a bunch of different things but nothing seems to help." He begins to head out the door, apparently assuming that our conversation has ended.

I quickly fall in step with him, keeping one ear tilted behind us as Bella hurries to catch up, her eyes boring into my back. "Could something have shorted out?" I ask Mike politely.

"That's what I thought at first," he replies, still uncertain, "but I just replaced the battery." His wide blue eyes flick forward, scanning the near-empty parking lot before darting back to me. This is crazy. Most of the time Cullen looks like he wants to rip my head off, and now we're talking about cars?

He refers to his decapitation figuratively, of course, unaware that I have envisioned such an action in the literal sense.

"Perhaps it's the cables?" I have been around many vehicles in my century of existence, and Rosalie is a genius with machines. Oftentimes she is prone to recite engine components or assembly instructions when she wants to keep me from hearing her thoughts.

Mike frowns, looking aside. "Maybe." Cables? What cables? I don't know what the hell he's talking about. Oh, well, I already look like an idiot. "I really don't know anything about cars," he eventually mumbles, shrugging. "I need to have someone look at it, but I can't afford to take it to Dowling's."

From the corner of my eye, I see Bella open her mouth to speak, but she presses her lips together a second later, a crease forming between her eyebrows.

I repress the well-known surge of desire to know her thoughts and say to Mike, "I know a few things – I could take a look, if you like." This guise of helpfulness is wearing thin, but if it will continue to buffer Bella's attempts to question me about the vision Alice received, I will be the picture of courtesy. "Just let me drop Alice and Bella at home." I doubt he will take me up on the offer, but if so, Bella will be safe with Alice at her father's house while I dally with Newton. I raise my eyebrows, hopefully displaying some considerate-looking expression, and shove my hands in my pockets in the pretense of warding off the brisk, misty wind.

My proposition seems to have overloaded Mike's limited brain capacity. Stammered phrases and blatant shock fills his mind while his jaw unhinges, gawking at me in such a way that I can see his tonsils quivering in the back of his throat.

Directly behind us, Bella has skidded to a halt, her lips parted in similarly astonished fashion.

Once Newton gathers his wits – as much as he is capable of, at least – he fidgets with the strap cutting into his shoulder from his backpack and avoids my gaze while he answers, "Er…thanks." We have now officially entered the Twilight Zone, he mutters to himself, the signature theme music from the television series playing in his head. I stave off the urge to roll my eyes. "But I have to get to work. Maybe some other time," he adds halfheartedly, his feet carrying him towards the driver's side of his car in retreat.

"Absolutely," I respond in a civil tone, though neither of us have any intention of engaging in this sort of strained socialization again.

He unlocks his door and climbs inside, mumbling a farewell, and shakes his head incredulously after the engine stutters to life. Crazy. That was crazy.

In a stroke of luck, the Volvo is parked only two cars down the row from Newton, and as he putters around Bella and I a familiar voice titters with merriment, I didn't think you would actually go through with it. A conversation with Mike Newton, of all people. I have to say I'm impressed. Alice's head bobbles from side to side with her high-pitched giggles while she waits for us in the back seat.

Opening the passenger door for Bella, I throw a quick scowl in my sister's direction. Then a cloud of warmth breezes past me and Bella mutters, perplexed, "What was that about?"

"Just being helpful," I remark lightly before closing the door.

I am seated behind the steering wheel a fraction of a second later, and Alice catches my eye in the rearview mirror while Bella fiddles with the clasp on her seatbelt. My turn, she whispers in her mind, inhaling a deep breath. I inwardly brace myself for a full-scale assault, and Alice does not disappoint. She launches into a rapid-fire chatter with obvious eagerness, though the sharpened edges of her thoughts tell a very different story, displaying her intense determination to help protect her best friend from Victoria's scheming.

"You're really not that good a mechanic, Edward," she starts off in a chiding voice. "Maybe you should have Rosalie take a look at it tonight, just so you look good if Mike decides to let you help, you know." The visions still haven't changed much, she sends to me at the same time. Bits and pieces get garbled up or switched around, and the blank spots aren't helping, either. "Not that it wouldn't be fun to watch his face if Rosalie showed up to help," she muses aloud while replaying everything she had seen over the course of the last few hours for my perusal. See? It's like a half-finished puzzle, and I'm trying to put it together when I don't have all the pieces and I don't even know what the picture should look like. "But since Rosalie is supposed to be across the country attending college, I guess that's not the best idea. Too bad. Though I suppose, for Mike's car, you'll do."

The odd, hazy image of me and Bella at the airport, followed by a snapshot of palm trees swaying in a breeze, springs into focus in Alice's mind. You're taking her somewhere for the weekend, that's obvious, but it hasn't gotten any clearer yet. She gripes petulantly a beat later, Either you haven't made up your mind or you have no idea where you're going. "It's only within the finer tunings of a good Italian sports car that you're out of your depth. And speaking of Italy and sports cars that I stole there," Alice jabs my shoulder with the brightly polished nail on her index finger, "you still owe me a yellow Porsche. I don't want to wait for Christmas…"

She resumes flipping through the future, hoping to nail down more specifics surrounding Victoria's imminent visit and my goal of removing Bella from Forks, while babbling on about the vehicle I'd promised her to fill the silence inside the Volvo. Meantime, Bella gazes out the rain-soaked windshield, her features blank but her mouth set into a firm, stubborn line.

She'll try to wrest what I saw out of you at some point, Alice comments, noticing my brief glance at the only human in the car.

Half-aware of her warning, I contemplate the peculiar choice of destination I am seemingly on the verge of deciding upon in order to preserve Bella's innocence concerning what will happen in a few days' time. A warm southern climate could be very risky for someone like me, but if Bella will be safe than I can endure two or three days of confinement indoors to avoid direct sunlight. But how can I convince Bella to go when she refuses to accept anything that involves the slightest amount of money from me? And she would never agree to leave Charlie without giving him some sort of explanation…

All at once, a solution presents itself.

Florida.

Bella has not been to see her mother since Renée and Phil moved to Jacksonville, and I know that in light of the circumstances that had brought them together several months ago, it would be beneficial to pay a visit and allow Renée to see a happier version of her daughter. Also, Carlisle and Esme have already purchased the tickets for airfare to Florida. The vouchers were their birthday gift to Bella, and she has them tossed in a desk drawer in her bedroom – an out-of-the-way storage place after I had unearthed all reminders of her disastrous eighteenth birthday party from beneath the floorboards.

My insides twist into uncomfortable knots as I think of speaking to Bella about the vouchers and all the painful memories such a conversation is bound to dredge up for us both…but she must be kept safe, and this is the simplest means to that end.

I bring the Volvo to a stop at the end of the long drive to the house and Alice opens her door, questioning me in her thoughts, What are you trying to decide, Edward?

She freezes for less than half a second, startled, as I make my choice and my future becomes more solid – but not concrete. Alice's head whips sideways, her gold eyes piercing me with acute intensity. Florida? Are you sure? You must be sure, she answers her own question, or else I wouldn't see it. Her unblinking stare seems to sharpen even further. I hope you know what you're doing.

Turning to look at her, I keep my expression relaxed though my resolve is unyielding, and say casually, "See you later."

Another thought fires at me, quicker than a flash of lightning: I'll coordinate with the others as best I can. You should prepare yourself; Bella's not going to make this easy on you.

She never does. I give Alice the faintest nod and watch as she, evidently satisfied that she has given me fair warning, closes the door and vanishes into the trees.

* * *

Author's Note: The Cullens had a lot more to say in this chapter than I had planned on, but I love the family dynamic so much that I can't complain. It was a bit of a creative challenge to come up with imagery for Alice's vision of Victoria; I hope that it was understandable. And this is the first time I've actually written Mike Newton, which was kind of fun.

Because I spilt this chapter into two, the first part of the next update is written, but I do have some ground to cover before it's ready to be posted. Again, I ask for your patience. I will do my very best to make the wait well worth it.

Please take a quick moment to jot down a review – I value your feedback more than I can possibly say. It's like a caffeine jolt, a shot of chocolate and a dose of Edward all rolled into one. :-D