Hello! First things first: I thought I'd clear up what seems to be a common misconception when it comes to this story. As of right now, Jacob has NOT imprinted on Edward. True, the boys are being more civil to each other, but that's because Jacob doesn't want Bella anymore. And he realized he'd been enjoying the vampire's company after the training sessions stopped. Trust me, when Jacob imprints on someone I'll make it VERY clear. And because I'm feeling generous, here's a hint: Jacob won't be imprinting on Edward Cullen. In response to one reviewer, this story IS going to be Jacob/Edward. Don't worry; this'll all make sense in a couple of chapters. My posting schedule is mostly based on when PTB gets back to me, which is usually within a few days.

Which reminds me! In a little over a week I'll be sixteen years old. Actually, that's kind of depressing, because as a general rule I prefer odd numbers. Sixteen's just so flouncy. Anyway, my point is that reviews would be an amazing early birthday present.

As I mentioned earlier, this chapter was beta'd by PTB, in particular the wonderful Batgirl8968 and Michelle. Huge thanks to them, because I managed to make some incredibly stupid mistakes this time – like typing 'phonograph' instead of 'photograph' and claiming Edward could walk through solid rock. HE'S A GHOST.

Umbra – 1. perfect and whole shadow of an opaque body, like a planet, wherein direct light from the source of brightness is totally reduced; 2. area of complete darkness on the shadow made by an eclipse

Chapter Six

The sun shone hot and bright. It glistened off Edward's skin even as he stood in the shadow of Bella's home, leaning unnecessarily against a massive fallen tree. The leaves draped around him like party lights as the vampire waited quietly, listening to the voices inside the house. There was another human inside with Bella.

A girl, he judged as a breeze carried their scents towards him, one who was familiar. He searched through his head until he found her thoughts, threads of her mind unspooling into his. Angela Weber, the human with glasses and a shy mind.

" – think Ben's cheating on me," she was saying, voice tight as if she was trying not to cry. Edward barely stopped himself from rolling his eyes. Humans with their two week relationships were often only upset because they thought a break-up merited days of tears and sobs. It was the same phenomenon that led to people falling to the ground after being shot because they'd seen it on TV, despite the fact that most weapons didn't generate nearly enough force to budge a human frame.

Bella sounded almost bored herself. She didn't seem to care for her human friends all that much, Edward reflected, despite their many attempts to include her. "Really, Ange? What happened?"

"He isn't around much, and when he is it's like he's thinking of something else," Angela groaned. Gold flashed through her mind. "And I saw a girl with him the other day. She was tall and she had blond hair."

"Did you see who it – "

"No. Just the back." Angela envisioned several empty seats in a classroom. "And yesterday he said he was sick, but I'm not sure I believe him."

"Well, there has been that bug going around," Bella said patiently. Her pulse beat in his ears like a drum.

Edward glanced around as the sun seemed to brighten and saturate the world with color. It was growing almost warm these days. Summer was approaching, the most dangerous time of the year for his kind. He was hit by a sudden curiosity and held out his hand so that it sparkled and shone in the light. If he stayed in the sun long enough, like an ant beneath a magnifying glass, would he start to steam and then burn? His hand began to ache, a bone-deep chill that was odd against the warmth. He drew it back into the shadows.

Edward moved through the trees until he'd reached a lower story window, slipping it open with ease. He'd be unable to attend school today due to the lack of clouds, and Bella had asked him to come over before she left. She must not have known that her friend would arrive. Edward took one last deep breath of the clean air surrounding him, fresh and untainted by blood, before entering the house. He wondered too late why he hadn't just used the front door. Windows were really becoming a habit with him, it seemed.

As he ascended the carpeted stairs, the air bit at his throat like sandpaper, hot and coarse. He knocked once on Bella's closed door. The human mind registered sound about an eighth of a second after his own, so Edward had enough time to examine the faded flowered wallpaper and lace curtains of the hall before the door swung open. Bella's face peered out.

"Edward?" She smiled and pulled him into the room, dragging them both to her bed. "I hope you don't mind if he's here, Ange. Edward's good with reading people."

Angela shrugged, wiping her eyes with a tissue while Edward fingered Bella's hair. It was as warm and glorious as the rest of her. Edward wished absentmindedly that she would move closer to him, but she stayed perched on the edge of the bed. He leaned against the wall and tried not to breathe as Angela thought through the offer.

"That's all right," the girl said finally, her boyfriend fading from her mind. "I don't want to be late – I needed to go now anyway." She stood and zipped up her thin coat. As she was leaving the room, Angela caught sight of a framed photo on Bella's desk. Jacob kissing Bella's cheek as he dropped her off at the Cullen house. Edward winced automatically and she looked his way.

Oh jeez. Angela was now focused entirely on his and Bella's relationship and Edward found himself wishing she'd go back to complaining about her own. The girl stood in the doorway, eyes wide. Her thoughts were more coherent than usual for a human as she unknowingly directed them straight to the mind reader. What are you doing to him, Bella? Her mind ran through several images like the photographs of Edward's youth, stills in faded color and sepia tones. Edward watching Bella as she went off with Jacob Black, clutching her backpack like it was all he had left of the most precious thing on earth. In another, a crowd of students surrounded two boys whose clenched fists and aggressive postures told of an imminent fight. It took Edward a moment to recognize himself and Jacob, that day the werewolf had visited his school. At the time, he'd only been aware of anger that the Quileute was interfering in his and Bella's lives. In Angela's mind, the pain lancing through both Edward and Jacob's eyes was at the forefront of the scene.

Edward resisted the urge to shove the girl out of the room and slam the door. She knew nothing. Bella was everything. She was worth the burning and the pain and the ever-present taunts of the wolves. He loved her more than there were stars in the sky. More than anything, more than –

His family?

His human family?

Once her friend had left the house, Bella turned to Edward with a faint smile on her lips. She leaned forward for a kiss but Edward moved away, lost in thought. He didn't want to fight the thirst, not now.

Was Bella worth all this loss? If he could go back in time and do it all again, if he could avoid the influenza or die as he should have died, if he could change things, would he? Would he want to become a vampire, knowing the path would lead to her? Knowing that decades of pain and loss and the lack of a soul would bring him to Isabella Swan?

Edward would always have assumed that the answer would be yes. He wanted, more than anything, for the answer to be yes. But how could it be? How could one girl be worth the loss of his entire life, the addition of one more terrible monster to the already overcrowded earth? Be worth the knowledge that he was going to hell?

No, Edward realized, she wasn't worth it. He would rather have died than become a vampire, even knowing that he would never meet her.

And he was an absolute bastard for that fact.

"Edward?" Bella sounded irritated. She must have called his name several times. Edward looked up at her, forcing himself to smile. "I asked what you wanted to do this weekend."

The vampire froze. This weekend his brothers would be in Seattle, unprotected by his mind reading as they hunted out newborns. And he would be with Bella at her insistence, never leaving her side. Choosing her over his family. The humans were long dead, but in many ways he did love Emmett and Jasper as well.

Edward was speaking before he could stop himself.

"I'm going to Seattle with my brothers, actually."

Bella stilled, pain scrawled across her face, and Edward looked away. The guilt was almost suffocating, but he couldn't do it. Couldn't keep choosing her over whatever family he had left.

He should never have existed. All he brought was pain. There was a reason God didn't advocate vampires.

"I'm sorry, Bella," he said quietly when she didn't speak, tears beginning to well in her eyes. "I can't let them go alone."

He left before she could pull herself together enough to respond, leaping from her window and racing through the trees. He wanted to run until he couldn't find the world, until he'd left himself in the past where he belonged. There was no need to go home. Alice would have seen his decision, and she would inform the family of his change in plans.

For now, he could forget.

Paul looked up at the sound of a struggling engine to see a rusty old truck crunching up the road. He closed the book he was reading without bothering to mark the spot – honestly, he hadn't absorbed a word of the thing – and watched as the girl nearly fell out of her seat when she opened the door. Paul smirked.

Isabella Swan wasn't his least favorite person on the planet, but she definitely came close. The girl had been coming to the reservation for months now, and the perpetually mopey expression on her face didn't get on only Paul's nerves. She tended to turn off whatever music the boys were listening to when she entered a room, and Paul had spent enough time around girls to recognize that when she walked, she expected people to watch her do it – ignoring the fact that her face was plain and her body was plainer.

"Hey, Paul, right?" Swan came trudging up the path, baggy jeans and a brown sweater getting damp in the light mist. Irritating or not, she was still a girl, so Paul watched carefully to see if the material of her top was thin enough to see through.

It wasn't. He looked away, bored.

"Paul!" The girl brushed a strand of hair from her cheek and came to a stop before him, nearly invading his personal space. "Have you seen Jacob?" Bella's dark hair was actually kind of pretty, but not enough to make up for her voice. She had a green backpack slung over her left shoulder and was compensating by leaning slightly to the right. Had school just let out? Paul was starting to forget things like that after having been absent for the better part of his last year. "Paul!"

Paul rolled his eyes, realizing that she wasn't in fact going to disappear if he ignored her long enough. "No, Bella," he said. "I haven't. Would you like me to take a message?" The false politeness would probably be lost on her.

Swan scowled and bit her lip, looking up through her lashes as if she thought he'd go crazy at the sight. Paul glanced back at the door to Jacob's house, regretting coming to visit that afternoon. Jacob wasn't his favorite pack member, but he did have an incredible garage. He hadn't been home when Paul came over, and he'd stayed outside reading one of Jake's books when Billy suggested that he wait. The old man could have warned him that Bella Swan would be visiting. Paul opened the book to a random page, hoping that Swan would get the message and leave.

"I need to talk to him," Bella said, her face bright red and angry. "I need to know what he did!"

This perked Paul's interest enough for him to put the book down again. "Yeah? What'd Jakey do this time?" Sarcasm aside, a small part of him was almost worried. Black had caused more than enough trouble for the pack since he'd transformed, mostly over this girl. He'd started fights with her vampire boy toy and almost broken the treaty time after time again. At some point, Sam was going to lose patience with the guy. Paul certainly had.

Bella looked like she was about to stamp her foot, her face darkening further. "I don't know what he did! That's the point!"

"I meant," Paul said, rolling his eyes again. "What happened to make you think he did something?" How did Jacob stand her?

"Edward's been acting weird!" Swan half shrieked, tears beginning to pool in her eyes. "He's been avoiding me and acting weird and I know one of you did something!" She paused and took a breath. "There was some secret midnight meeting between you, I know that, Jacob said! So what did you do?"

Paul couldn't help it. The girl had come onto their property, leech stink clinging to her hair and her skin, and screamed accusations in his face.

He laughed.

"Acting kind of bitchy here, Swan. You on your period or what?"

She froze for a moment as if unable to believe what he'd said, like she couldn't accept someone treating her as less than royalty. In a delayed reaction, Bella's face contorted and she threw her entire backpack at Paul's head. It missed by almost a yard. He watched, mildly interested, as the bag burst against the wall of Jacob's house. The clatter was loud enough that he was surprised Billy didn't come out to investigate.

"See you, Swan," the werewolf called as she stomped back to her hideous truck and started the engine. He watched until she was out of sight.

Feeling unusually generous now that she was gone, Paul picked up her textbooks and papers, lifting the thirty or so pounds in his arms like it was nothing. He elbowed open the front door, stepping straight into the kitchen and stacking the books on the tiled counter next to a six-pack of beer. Jacob would yell at him later for upsetting his girl, but it had definitely been worth it. The garage could wait.

Paul tucked his hands into his jeans and walked out of the house, grinning and humming to himself. He left the screen door swinging wide open behind him. Billy liked a little breeze going into his house.

Jacob hadn't been around much lately, anyway.

Edward ran until the wind forced the breath from his lungs, until he couldn't see and he couldn't hear. He came to a stop when the change in scents marked the beginning of Quileute territory, backtracking quickly. Self-righteous and hypocritical as they were, the wolves would be nowhere near as forgiving of a breach as the Cullens had been.

The vampire moved silently through the forest for the second time that day, sunlight sparking off of him and almost setting fire to the leaves where it touched. He smelled rot and decay before he saw it: the small cemetery just off the edge of Forks. A perpetual aura of sadness seemed to hang about the place, and the trees cast gloomy shadows over the yellowing grass.

Edward made his way through the graveyard until he'd reached the far side, kneeling before two plain white stones as if in prayer. In this technological age, it was safest to hide any accidental kills in a place they would never be found – a place where the dead were already in abundance and visitors were most often distracted by their grief.

Every time they moved, the Cullens installed several empty graves in the local cemetery, complete with fake names and doctored to appear several years old, in case one of them were to slip up. They were like ready-made places of penance for when one of the Cullens inevitably gave in to the innate horror that all vampires possessed.

His family hadn't been forced to use one of the sites since 1983, when Emmett had been overcome and drained a woman of her sickly sweet blood. When Jasper slipped up, he usually just dropped the bodies into a river to avoid informing the family of his mistake. Now they had filled two, but the caskets didn't hold victims of bloodlust. They held his human parents, dead by a hundred year old flu, their bodies carted from Chicago to Forks in some sick quest for revenge.

It was almost funny. Almost.

Edward leaned his forehead against one of the tombstones and closed his eyes, gripping the edges of the stone as if he was clinging to his mother's skirts. Time didn't pass for the immortal, not really, and what he remembered of his human life was as fresh as if it had happened the day before. The illness had scrambled his mind even before the change set in, so all he could recall in true clarity were the last few weeks of sickness and mourning. The epidemic of 1918 was reality for him, not the dull facts and statistics in textbooks that people skimmed over today.

It had been terrible, had brought about the death of himself and everyone he knew.

And Carlisle. It had given the man the excuse he needed to snatch Edward from his hospital bed, to steal away his soul and his life without bothering to ask for consent. Edward clung more strongly to the tombstone, its surface rough against his oversensitive skin. He could feel the stone crumbling like sand beneath his fingers.

He wanted to be human. He wanted his parents. He wanted to die.

The graveyard was eerily silent, any birds or animal life having been scared off by the vampire's presence. He looked at the grass, and where normally thousands of miniscule bugs could be seen there was nothing but dirt. There were dust mites in the air, at least, visible in the last faint rays of sunlight. It was ridiculous how reading their faint impulses, unaffected by Edward's nearness, was such a relief to him. Edward couldn't help a self-deprecating smirk. He'd hit a point where he was enjoying the company of creatures too small to be seen with the human eye. But they didn't fear him, didn't have enough thoughts to do so. The others were right to run. Life just didn't seem possible to sustain in close proximity to a vampire. He drained it. He took it away.

The sun was just beginning to set, and soon its faint burn would be replaced by a moonlit night. Vampires were safe in the darkness. It kept their secrets. Edward unclenched his fists, staring at the handprints he'd made in the hard stone. A human wouldn't have done that. People molded to the world around them, as they should, instead of the other way around. It was vampires who were monstrous enough to create and destroy, who changed their surroundings to suit their liking and killed to support their own sick half-lives.

Edward leaned back against the stone, face cast upward toward the sky. The air shimmered around him as his skin caught and refracted the sun's last rays. It took a moment to sink below the horizon, and the vampire watched as the world grew dark. Another day was gone. The living had lost a small portion of their lives. Those hours could never be recovered.

And Edward, as always, remained unchanged.

Edward's angst amuses me to no end. I am a terrible person.

I looked it up, and opinions seem to be pretty much split on whether or not 'groaned' is a viable option for a dialogue tag. Personally, I think it is. I mean, how else are we supposed to communicate at six in the morning? Either way, most of the references said it was grammatically okay so I'm going with yes.