Stephenie Meyer owns these characters. All dialogue borrowed from Twilight is purely for clarification. No infringement of copyright is intended, only my admiration.

I would like to thank FarAway Rose for her comments, and also introduce my brand new beta, the lovely Lezlee, who I had the good luck to be assigned to through Project Team Beta. I've known her for only a short time, but I can already tell that we are kindred spirits.

Playlist Picks:

Behind Blue Eyes – The Who
Spies – Coldplay

SPY

"Are you finished?" Alice asked, surveying the devastation. "Have you destroyed everything in sight?"

I could only reel at the tides of shock that continued to rage within me.

"Maybe you'd like to demolish Carlisle's study now?" she offered.

She watched, impassive, while I kicked over another pile of books. Loose paper fluttered out the window, into the dark forest.

It was appalling. It was unthinkable that after fighting so hard, that I could really be capable of… I would not!

When I finally found my voice, it was strangled. "How could you do this, Alice?"

"I didn't do anything. I can't control what I see."

"Have you no fucking idea what it means?"

"Don't you swear at me!"

"Jesus Christ," I swore, anyway.

"I knew this would happen," she muttered. "That's why I only told Carlisle. But, thanks to your little tantrum, everybody knows now."

It didn't surprise me that she had told him. He was the only other member of the family who could keep his thoughts from me. But how could he have remained silent about this?

I had another string of epithets ready, but recoiled at a splintering sound beneath me. Disaster. My stupid great foot had landed in the middle of my precious first-edition copy of Houses of the Holy, autographed by Jimmy Page, splitting it in two.

The shock cleared my vision. I had razed my room.

Alice verged on laughter at the absurd sight; I know she did. She stamped her own foot instead.

"It's one possibility, Edward. One! Tell me what else you saw." She didn't let me answer. "You saw her as one of our family. She's meant to be with you-"

"Which means she's as good as dead," I finished.

More shards of vinyl revealed the death of The Birth of Cool. I sank down amongst the debris, rubbing my head.

The twelve-string, at least, was undamaged. It stood sentinel, intact and upright in the corner, apart from the detritus of books, journals, CD cases and, oh no… the stereo. How had I stripped all that wiring out? And the curtain rod had gouged a great hole in the plaster when it came off the wall. Esme was really going to kill me.

The flippant thought brought Alice's visions before me once again. The anger and hopelessness spiraled down.

In the midst of the maelstrom, she was dogged. "Trust you to focus on the negative. It doesn't have to be that way, and you know it."

"How else could it end? A human, Alice? It's beyond ludicrous!"

I knew how badly she wanted another sister, but this didn't just cross all the lines, it pole-vaulted straight over them, ripped up the treaty, and stomped on its shredded remains. I told her so, but she remained stubborn.

"I've seen what I've seen. One way or another, she belongs with us."

"You're only seeing what you want to see," I challenged.

Of course she was. Her visions changed as much to her own whims as they did to the decisions of those she watched. Obstinate though she may have been, she was very, very wrong this time.

"What are you thinking?" she finally probed.

"I think you're crazy. I don't even know this girl."

"But, you're drawn to her."

Indeed, that could not be denied. It was the predatory instinct that drew me to Bella, first and foremost.

Yet Alice disregarded that important fact as mere trivia. "What happened today proves it."

"It proves nothing. I would have done the same for anyone."

"Would you, really?"

Despite myself, her question gave me pause. Had any of the other students been in the path of that van, would I truly have acted as I did? Would I have done the same had Tyler been in danger? I couldn't honestly say that I would.

Alice stopped speaking, but her thoughts whirred incessantly, insistently. It was impossible to be near her at that moment. I needed to get away, and for that I needed a purpose. I extricated my jacket; the keys were still in a pocket.

"Now where are you going?"

"On damage control. This is my fault, after all." I threw that out for Rosalie's benefit. Alice was right; they all knew. They were all listening.

"Jackass," Alice muttered to herself, watching me jump to the ground. If he thinks I'm going to help clean this up, he's got another think coming…

I was thankful her thoughts receded into the silence of the night. The short drive into Forks calmed me somewhat.

It felt like a lifetime had passed since morning, yet it was barely past eight o'clock. Most of the businesses on the avenue were already closed for the night. I expected that the police station, around the corner on East Division, would be too.

My intent was to break and enter. I had to read the accident reports and witness statements for myself. If anyone else had even thought they'd seen me stop the van, then we were all in trouble. There was no question of destroying the files, but perhaps they could be doctored somehow?

It should have been a quick visit, a five-minute job, but there was a complication. The back office was lit. Someone was still at work.

I parked around the corner, listening, but my concentration was off. Alice's prediction loomed like a great weight – awful, unthinkable - making the thoughts of the human within barely audible.

It was raining again. I didn't want to leave the car but I had no choice; I tried huddling in the shadows of the small parking garage but it made no difference. I ended up squatting behind a hedge, right under the office window. Luckily, the vegetation hid me from sight of any passersby in the alley. Unluckily, the blocked drain pipe I was sitting next to chose that moment to rupture, sending a torrent of water out the side. I watched a small lake rise over my feet. Resigned, I took off my shoes and socks and rolled up my jeans.

Had I paid closer attention, I could have saved myself a soaking. The muted thoughts of that human male should have provided the very obvious clue that the occupant was not just anyone; it was Chief Swan. The silhouette thrown against the venetian blinds was distinct, as was the resin-like scent wafting through the slightly open window. Today, of all days! Why wasn't he at home with Bella? Didn't he have a deputy to sub him off?

When he'd arrived at the accident scene his thoughts had been difficult to hear, something I'd attributed to panic. Yet even at this proximity they were so muffled―the only way to describe them was that it was like listening to sounds under water. If Bella had inherited that trait, had it somehow been augmented to the point where her mind was silent?

I could make out his annoyance about being called back to work and his exhaustion after the stressful day, but there were petty criminal matters on the docket that required follow-up. He did have a deputy. Actually, there were two, but one was on holiday and the other had gone to Port Angeles to serve as an expert witness.

He grumbled something about cutbacks, and, through his mind, I watched him write the note: 'Brought forward, juvenile court, February 11th' on one of the files; on another, 'Not enough evidence'.

After about ten minutes, he made a phone call. His voice was warm.

"Hey, Hon. How're you feeling . . . ? Good, good . . . Yeah, I'll be finished up here pretty quick, I think. Should be on my way in about half an hour or so."

Half an hour was quick?

"You didn't have to do that. Why didn't you take it easy like Dr. Cullen told you?"

"Well, as long as you felt up to it . . . "

She'd made a comment about taking it easy tomorrow instead and getting out of gym class. He chuckled at a brief picture of her sitting smugly beside a basketball court while another girl fell down.

"Uh-huh. Did your mom get a hold of you?"

Her mother had left two messages and then called again after Bella got home.

"Well, of course she's worried. She's your mom . . . Oh, she is not! Bells . . . " Why does she hate that we care? he wondered. She's always been like this.

"Anyway"—he broached a new subject—"I talked to Dr. Cullen again this afternoon, and mentioned that I'd like to, uh, do something for Edward for . . . "

He couldn't say it. The arrow of pain that shot through him when he remembered Bella's close call was so vivid that I felt it too.

"He said it wasn't necessary, but maybe if you see Edward at school tomorrow . . . ?"

I was glad that Carlisle hadn't mentioned anything about this. It would have been the height of hypocrisy to accept a reward from Chief Swan. Had he known the truth about me, he would have had me arrested and cast into solitary confinement. I wouldn't even have tried to escape.

"Okay. Well, you put your feet up, sweetie. I'll be home soon. Love you. Bye."

Now that I was accustomed to his thought patterns, they were easier to hear. Indeed, when focused on Bella, they came out in a loud rush.

It'll be better for her once Renée and Phil get settled, he decided. Girl that age needs her mom around. She's got no friends here; spends too much time alone . . .

I'm not much good to her, always working . . .

Wish we had more in common. We could do things together but I'd probably just embarrass her . . .

But I'll miss her when she's gone. I only just got her back.

She'd come to Forks "to spend some quality time with Charlie"—that was what she'd told me the other day. This wasn't to be a permanent move, then? I felt the arrow stab once more at the thought of her going away. But why should I care? Brushing the unwanted sentiment aside, I wondered at the chief's harsh self-criticism. He seemed like a good father to me.

I waited under the dripping eaves while he completed the remaining paperwork. How many nights during the Depression had I haunted police stations like this seeking information about my victims—monsters that were barely more human than I was? Too many to bear thinking about. But Bella was not going to become my victim. It wouldn't happen. It couldn't.

During the interim he grabbed a cup of coffee, only to throw it out because it had been sitting on the burner too long. He pondered the chances of the Mariners making it to the World Series this year, and then considered going fishing with his friend, Harry, on the weekend. That brought on pangs of guilt for not spending enough time with his daughter. He gave no thought to the accident or to my involvement in Bella's rescue.

Thirty-nine interminable minutes later, he stood up, rubbing a sore spot on his lower back.

"Gettin' old, Charlie," he muttered, shutting the window.

He turned off the lights and left through the front door, setting the alarm as he exited. I didn't have to watch him program the code. It would be easy to work it out by the strength of the scents on the number pad, as the code to disarm it would be. Modern technology had made breaking and entering much less tedious now than during the bad old days when I was forced to pick locks or spin combinations.

Once inside, I moved through the office so quickly that the motion sensors picked up nothing. There was no infra-red glow, nor was there the whir of a hidden camera in the chief's office when I entered. There was no computer on his desk either, which was surprising. The lack of interior security was no doubt another result of cutbacks.

His scent was strongest on the grey cabinet under the window. Obviously it contained the criminal matters he'd just been looking at. There was another cabinet behind the desk, a black one, where the scent was several hours old. The accident reports were filed there. The lock was a bit sticky; it was hard to pick without breaking it.

There were three related files. Leafing through them left me satisfied that none of the witnesses had noticed anything untoward about my presence at the accident scene. Carlisle had signed two of them as the attending physician for Bella and Tyler. And, judging by the preliminary insurance report, Tyler was right to worry about his parents' reaction when they found out that he had totalled the van. Their insurance rates were about to skyrocket.

A huge weight lift off my shoulders as I walked out the front door and re-programmed the alarm code. It wasn't a particularly imaginative sequence, by the way. It was probably someone's birth date.

My family would be all right for now; I could feel it. Once again, I was thankful for the short attention span of human beings. As long as Bella kept quiet, today's events would rapidly fade from the collective memory of the witnesses and none of my siblings would be tempted to defy Carlisle and take matters into their own hands. She would be safe.

There was a complication, however. The drainpipe had obviously burst again while I was inside and this time it must've become come unblocked entirely. A wash of muck and leaves covered my footwear and when I wiped some away, I could see the leather already beginning to swell.

That was an expensive pair of shoes ruined. I cursed myself for my carelessness, and for my bad luck too, because they'd been a gift from Alice.

If she ever found out about this, she'd have my head.

The main street was dark and quiet when I drove back through town. Apart from the street lamps, the only light to be seen was thrown from the doorway of the one hardware store that still remained open.

There was a pickup parked on the kerb nearby. That, in itself, was not unusual, but the fact that it reeked was most definitely out of the ordinary. I felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand up, and my nostrils flare in disgust.

The further down the street I drove, the more the air became polluted by the maddenly foul stench emanating from within that truck ― one that triggered an instinct to violently attack its occupants. Irritated, I wiped at the venom flowing onto my lower lip.

Who let the dogs out? That was Emmett's standing joke.

Why did the entire tribe still smell like that? Not just them ― their land, and everything they touched was tainted, and the stink had become appreciably stronger in recent months. It was almost like… no, that was impossible. The gene had died out generations ago.

I could see a child of about fourteen helping an old man into the driver's seat now. He seemed familiar; they both did. Mine was the only other car on the road, and the purr of the engine caused them to look up as I passed. The child's glance was cursory, momentarily admiring the sleek lines of the Volvo, nothing more. He slung a folded wheelchair into the bed of the truck, and walked around to the passenger's side.

The man's glance became an unwavering, baleful glare as I drove by, and I knew then why he was familiar to me. He had attended the ceremony when we'd re-signed the treaty with the Quileutes three years ago.

Though the ravages of diabetes had aged and crippled him since, it had not diminished the strong resemblance he bore to his grandfather, who had been chief when we'd lived in Hoquiam seventy years ago. Billy Black's thoughts were crystal-clear, and his thin lips echoed them exactly as he muttered a single word:

"Parasite."

I returned his glare, not bothering to stifle the growl in my chest. Forks was neutral territory, and I had as much right to be on this ground as he did. Nevertheless, it was apparent that the old prejudices died hard ― on both sides of the line.

When I arrived home, my sweet, long-suffering sister waited for me in the drive. She held out a black garbage bag almost as big as she was.

"I think you're missing a couple of volumes," she predicted, sadly. "Some of them made it into the river before I could catch them."

"No one's ever going to read those stupid journals, anyway," I told her. "It's self-indulgent rubbish. May as well burn it."

"I went to all that trouble for nothing?" she asked in mock indignation.

I slung my arm around her shoulder as we walked back to the house; she had left me enough of my own mess to clean up.

"What did you find out?" she asked.

"Carlisle's right: we don't need to worry for now. We just have to make sure Bella keeps her word."

She was pleased to hear that, but she was ashamed, too. "I'm sorry I upset you before. I should have picked my moment better."

I shrugged; what was there to say? Still, I had to know. "Have you seen anything different?"

"No. And, I'm sorry about that, too."

"It can't happen, Alice. I won't let it."

"I know…" But her attention drifted, lost amongst her visions. As we approached the front porch, the corner of her mouth turned up.

"I just have to ask, though: why are you barefoot?"

"All the better for sneaking," I told her. Some indignities were just not worth mentioning.

No one said anything on the drive to school the next morning, but the thoughts of the others spoke volumes.

It's obscene, that's what it is. His own kind's not good enough for him – I was never good enough for him. And Alice, playing match-maker for her favourite brother… Disgusting!

It was only Emmett's presence that stopped me from throwing Rosalie out of the car. He didn't need to know what his wife was thinking right now. He just patted her knee as she growled and glowered, and I bit my tongue.

Jasper sat up front, apart from Alice, wondering why she hadn't confided her secret in him before she told me. I was on a roll, that was certain. I'd managed to put a wedge between all the members of my family, save Esme and Carlisle.

I'd expected to have words with Carlisle last night, too – or come as close to that as he and I ever did - but it didn't happen. His guilt for keeping Alice's visions secret from me was plain. He didn't have to explain his reasons, but he was ever the indulgent father figure.

You know her visions are subjective at the best of times. I didn't want to burden you with the speculation. You had enough to deal with. It was heartening to hear that.

However, he went on, in light of what happened today, there might be some validity in her foresight.

"I won't break the treaty Carlisle. She won't become one of us."

That's not what I was referring to. He stared out the window for a moment. His gaze was sharp when it returned to me.

Tell me, how does Bella make you feel?

"Besides the obvious?" He nodded. "… Unsettled." There was no apt word.

Go on…

"I don't know… Curious?"

Because you can't read her mind?

"Yes, but there's more." So much more that I couldn't begin to describe it to him.

I watched you at the hospital this morning. I saw what her scent did to you.

"It affected you too," I reminded him.

To an extent, he agreed. But you didn't have to be there. You could have gone home.

I hesitated. "I wanted to make sure that she was all right."

You are conscientious. He smiled. You also had ample opportunity to leave before she confronted you, yet you did not. Why do you think that was?

I had to admit that I did not know.

And tonight, why did you fight so hard against your siblings for her life?

Again, I had no answer.

It takes a great deal for us to experience real change in our lives; you know this. He had said as much, many times.

Meeting this girl has caused a change for you; of that, I have no doubt now. He paused, choosing his words carefully. You need to figure out whether the change has been for good or ill.

"But, how can Alice be right that a human was meant for me?"

It troubles me, he admitted. But it's not without precedent.

Of course not; he had set the precedent in the family himself. He had loved Esme while she was still human, as Rosalie had loved Emmett. Both of them were vampires now.

Then there were the Denali sisters… theirs was a precedent I would rather not follow.

"I just don't see it, Carlisle."

He clapped my shoulder in gentle dismissal. We'll talk more about this, he predicted.

As I left his study, he was pondering an Italian idiom that I was unfamiliar with, one he wanted to keep to himself. He shut his mind to me as quickly as he shut the door.

It goes without saying that I monitored every conversation Bella had at school that day, from the moment Mike Newton caught up with her in the quadrangle.

"Look at you, huh? You're alive!" he proclaimed, throwing his arms wide dramatically.

"Yeah." She flushed. "Amazing." She allowed him to take her books as they walked around the corner.

"I thought you were a goner, for sure. I couldn't believe it when they got you out."

"Me, either. It all happened so fast. But… Edward got to me in time. He managed to pull me out of the way."

"Cullen?" he said, resentfully. "I never saw him. Oh, wait!"- I froze, frightened for an instant of what he might have seen, then relaxed as he kept talking -"Yeah, I saw him at the hospital later. But you're okay, right? Nothing's broken?"

"Just a little bump on the head. Doesn't even hurt anymore."

"Wow." He shook his head. "Luck-ee."

"Lucky Edward was passing by," she amended.

He shrugged, annoyed that she kept mentioning me. He was working up the courage to ask her out, but he couldn't for the life of him remember the name of that romantic comedy he thought she might like.

"Hey, you know that essay we're s'posed to write for English?" he tried changing the subject. "Did you get what Mr. Mason meant when he…"

But he was too slow; he lost his chance as Tyler accosted them, still wringing his hands over causing the accident. I fancied that they must be chapped red-raw by now.

"Hey, Bella. I really am sorry about yesterday."

Mike bristled at his approach, but Bella only looked mortified. "It's not your fault, Tyler. I'm Okay. Really." She sounded like she was already tired of repeating herself.

"I just feel so terrible about it," he protested, joining them on her other side. "If there's anything I can do – pay for your repairs, anything – please tell me."

You can piss the hell off, Mike thought, grinding his teeth.

"That won't be necessary," she replied, patiently. "My truck's pretty tough. A couple more dents won't hurt it. Are you okay, though?"

"Oh, yeah," he said, feigning bravery. "The bandages come off next week. Doctor says the scars'll fade in about a month." I was waiting for him to think, Chicks dig scars.

Mike rolled his eyes. "Uh, Tyler? Don't you have football practice, or something?" he asked.

"Don't you?"

The reluctant threesome arrived at their classroom, cutting the tense little conversation short. I couldn't take any more of it anyway; all that teenage testosterone was beginning to make me nauseous.

Tyler continued to follow Bella around all week. In his obsession to make amends, he became her self-appointed lapdog, deluding himself that subjugation and servitude were the best ways to win her favour. It really was very strange how his mind worked. He joined the flank of boys who sat at her lunch table, much to the mystification of Jessica and Angela, and the extreme annoyance of Mike and Eric. They were even less friendly to him than they were to each other.

Eavesdropping on her through the minds of her friends was irritating. I could never be sure how much she held back when she spoke to them. My impression was that she edited a lot. Nevertheless, when I listened in on Jessica during their Trig class, it was obvious they had already spoken about the accident at length, and that she was just grilling for more gossip.

"Oh, my God, Bella! I just couldn't sleep last night. I kept seeing it all in my head, over and over."

"Yeah, I had a bit of trouble sleeping, too," she replied. A little worried crease appeared on her forehead in her mirror image in Jessica's mind.

"You know, you probably have post-traumatic stress. How come your dad made you come to school today?"

"He didn't make me. There's nothing wrong with me, so there was no point staying home."

Oh, get a life, Jessica thought, but what she said was, "I so would have made my parents keep me home. I mean, it's not like you're missing anything."

Bella looked around quickly. "I kind of wish I had, now. Tyler won't stop trying to make it up to me. He's getting annoying."

Jessica smirked when Bella looked away. What is it with guys and that whole damsel-in-distress thing, anyway? she wondered.

"So, did you see your life pass before your eyes, and stuff, when it happened?"

"No, nothing like that. I saw Tyler's van coming, and then it was like everything else happened at the same time. But I could see it all very clearly."

"Ooh, like an out-of-body experience?"

"More like watching TV." She frowned. "It's hard to explain."

"Well, we're all really glad you're okay, Bella."

"Thanks to Edward."

"Yeah, Mike told me that he supposedly pulled you out of the way," She tried to sound blasé, "but I didn't see him there until they moved the van."

"Um, he was standing right next to me. He was almost crushed, too."

"Really? Did he say anything to you?"

Bella looked confused. "When?"

"Never mind." She shrugged. "Huh. One day you think he hates you, the next he's your knight-in-shining-armor. He is so weird."

"You got that right."

In the cafeteria, too, she repeated her story to everyone who asked, making me look like the hero, but conveniently leaving out the important details.

"…Like I said, he was passing by. Right place at the right time, I guess."

Mike cursed himself for running late yesterday as he, Angela, and Tyler shot a unified, skeptical glance across the room at me.

"I still swear I didn't see him," Tyler said, shaking his head.

So, what's the scoop? Emmett asked, noticing their stares.

"She's sticking to the same story. Not a word about me stopping the van."

He raised one eyebrow and nodded; Rosalie and Jasper looked incredulous; and Alice just looked smug. They had no reason to doubt me.

I was no longer worried about what Emmett would do. Once he was satisfied that we were under no threat of exposure, he would forget his aggression very quickly. He didn't hold grudges. I knew too, that Alice was already working Jasper over, and that he would back off eventually. Alice was minding her own agenda, though – one I didn't quite trust. And Rosalie? Let's just say that she was tenacious.

I couldn't believe that Bella was keeping her word, either. It was my experience that humans were predictable: they never did what they promised. But she had so far proved herself completely unpredictable, and that meant she was trouble. More than that, she seemed to attract trouble. First, there was me. Compared with the danger that I represented, the accident had been mere bad luck. But if the adage was true, and disasters were supposed to come in threes, then what was next? I didn't want to think about that.

However, I had been the one to put the family in danger in the first place; therefore it was my duty to ensure that she kept her word. Beyond that, I intended to stay as far away from her as I could. If I could keep myself out of her life, it might better her odds of surviving the school year.

Needless to say, I was not in the best frame of mind when she sat down next to me that afternoon. I didn't trust her, and I couldn't encourage her to trust me, either. I didn't dare look at her.

"Hello Edward," she said, sounding inordinately pleased with herself.

What did she expect - a round of applause for good behaviour? I was supposed to brush the rescue off as an adrenaline rush or something equally far-fetched now, was I? She'd been adamant about what she saw yesterday. She couldn't have guessed the truth, but still…

It was awful. I did very much want to talk to her, if only to let her know that I was no savior for her. But it was impossible to do that without eliciting questions, the answers to which would bring further questions. She needed to stay away from me for her own good. It was the only way.

So I acknowledged her briefly – it would have been rude not to - and resumed staring out the window. The hurt and disappointment on her face was plain, but there could be no fraternization. There could be no discussion, no opening for her to offer that reward from her father. She would hate me for a while but she would move on and live the rest of her life safely.

And that was the last contact I had with her though she was in that class, a foot away from me, every day. I watched her a lot – from a distance though, or when her attention was occupied. Once in a while, I would catch her throwing me surreptitious glances too, but less and less so as time passed. Eventually, even Rosalie stopped grumbling about it.

Life resumed more-or-less normal patterns quite quickly. There had been no tragedy to occupy the students' minds; Bella was fine, and Tyler was on the mend. To my relief, after the first few days, no one was interested in my account of the accident, either. My family and I resumed our status as comfortable pariahs.

But for me, normality existed on the surface only. Carlisle was right that I had experienced a great change. For want of a better metaphor, I felt like a cheap snow globe that had been shaken up and thrown across the room. I had been lucky to land right side up, but the pieces on the inside were not falling back into place.

I would have been all right. I could have kept up the façade, had Bella not rapidly wormed her way under my skin. To put it bluntly, my battle against her was lost before it had even begun.