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Godwin had lingered, long after MIchael's many, and stern warnings against it had become soundless echos of the mind. It was easy to stay hidden, and the forest left ample space between him and the people he once called friends, and family.

His eyes had grown a deep, and dark black, before he'd been so desperate as to lash out at one of cats left to access the manor's kitchens. It had tasted rancid, but his body didn't reject the nourishment it provided, and Godwin had ventured further, leaving his gifts of mysteriously bloodless, and expertly gutted carcasses of deer, and rabbits where the ones he'd once loved could easily find them.

At Jakob's door.

He had, as expected, become Lord.

And such a one, too.

Jakob's once lithe figure had grown soft. Godwin wondered, fleetingly, if his flesh would respond to him in the way it once had.

He doubted it.

He had watched as glints of grey coloured a beard he'd never been able to brush his fingers through. Saw his hands make the heads of the stable boys smart—and the new herd lad, too.

But his hands had also softened those blows, in ways that Godwin was familiar with.

An unwelcome kernel of jealousy had flourished then, and blossomed, like a Christmas rose, when the men had brought their yule logs to the manor house.

Excusing himself with a smoothness Godwin knew well, the Lord had found a dark corner in warmth of the stable with which to make use of the herd boy. The whispered promises remained the same.

Godwin himself only had to whisper Jakob's name to lure him out once his rutting was done.

"Who's there?" Jakob called into the night, shoo-ing the boy away. His voice was blurred at the edges.

"Your judgement," Godwin said, his voice a husk of itself.

"Farley, if this is your silly business about your damn goats, we'll settle in the daylight."

"Are you afraid to meet your judgement, Jakob?"

A pause.

"Godwin?" he called, "Have you come back?" His words were coloured with an uneasy hope.

"Come and see." He let his feet rasp across the stable yard's dirt. Outside the gate, he darted between the forest road's trees. He felt almost giddy with the fresh possessiveness that clutched at his chest. Mine, it said. Mine.

Jakob's steps were so unsure in the dark. It was almost comical. How utterly reversed they were now.

"Godwin? Is it really you?"

Was he afraid? Yes, Godwin realized, he was. "It's alright Jakob, it's me," he called. Timing his movement with the clouds, he stepped into the fresh moonlight.

Jakob gasped, but not in the joy of recognition, or reunion.

In horror. Mind-deadening, gut-twisting fear.

"No—it's alright," Godwin said, reaching out his hand.

"No!" Jakob said, trying to snatch his arm away.

Godwin didn't want to let go. No, his mind thought. Mine! screamed his body. And he made sure of his grip with both hands.

The sickening wet crunch, and the answering gush of blood at his feet were momentarily incomprehensible, and he stood, making sense of the limp flesh between his hands.

When the world had returned to itself, and his mind could process the work of his body, he had cradled Jakob's remains, carrying them to the depth of the woods, where he could bury them deeply.

He had left the pool of blood to be found.

Where the edge of one dream ended, another began, and Bella turned over restlessly, sleep not ready to release its grip of her.

This time, the dream was her own.

About her Jacob.

Her body settled into the bed, arms relaxed, hands twitching slightly, with the intention of movement.

They were sitting on her bed, looking over her notes, and Jacob's right hand had settled at her hip. Its pleasant warmth seeped into her, spreading, and she could feel it tugging at the edges of the round pain in her chest, the thump of her heart, and the warmth, beating together in a loud rhythm. She looked up from her notes, and turned to head towards him. He was already facing her.

Their friendship, she was, was a hastily built, child's fort, of dining room chairs and couch cushions, held together by bed sheet snatched from the laundry. The proximity of their faces was like a stone, stuck in the middle of the fort, dragging down the sheet, revealing the crudeness of its underpinnings.

That was it.

She felt exposed.

The look lingered, and the heat spread. The pulsing was drawing close the emptiness, a draw-string purse.

Jacob leaned forward. The purse tightened, almost shut, and Bella closed her eyes. She could feel a radiant heat close to her lips—

"Bella," came Charlie's voice.

"Wha—?" Bella muttered, opening her eyes.

"It's almost 8, honey." He was sitting beside her on the bed.

"Oh my god, I'm late," she said, throwing off the covers.

"Just hold on," he said, putting a hand on her arm. "I called the school—it's OK. You can be late."

"Why aren't you at work?" Bella wondered, suddenly.

"Forgot a case file," he said, "came back for it. Saw you were asleep."

"Why didn't you—?" Bella started.

He held up a hand to stop her. "I called them half an a hour ago. I figured you needed the sleep. You look tired."

Bella's stomach was a tight ball of worry. "I have a test first period, Dad. I can't—"

"Being the police chief has a few perks, Bella, and being able to tell your English teacher to cut you some slack is one of them."

"Dad, not to pop your grandiose ideas about yourself, but, really, what kind of pull could you possibly have?" She eyed him levelly, standing up, gathering clothes from her dresser.

"When you cut people some slack on traffic tickets, they remember it."

"Really?" Bella giggled, "Mr. Berty?"

"You'd be surprised what I know about people in this town," he grimaced, and then sighed. "I gotta run back to the station," he said, waving the file at her. "Be home a bit later than usual. Actually, probably a lot later. You got plans with Jake?"

"I can," she said, blushing, and blanching, as the content of her dreams surfaced. "Yeah, I guess so." The blush won out eventually, and she turned away to fiddle with some papers on her desk.

Charlie felt an unexpected lump of happiness, watching Bella's reaction. "Sounds good." Don't make a big deal of it, he reminded himself. You can grin like an idiot in the car.

"Thanks, Dad, for calling the school. I have been tired lately." She was looking at her clothes, in her arms, her mind a jumble of thoughts about Jacob, Godwin, school, Dwayne….school. She was going to have to make up that test. Well, maybe Berty wouldn't be a jerk about it, all things considered.

"See ya Bells," he said, rubbing his hand on her shoulder as he walked out of her room.

"Bye, Dad," she whispered, still lost in her thoughts.

"Man, how'd you get out of that test, without Berty exploding all over your ass?" asked Mike, and then stuffed half a slice of pizza in his mouth. "Come on," he mouthed around his food, "spit it out."

"You're going to spit out that piece of pizza if you're not careful, Mike," Jessica snapped, beside him.

Bella shrugged, not eager to share more than she needed to, with them, "He called, said I wasn't feeling well this morning." They looked at her, eyebrows raised, "I wasn't," she added defensively.

Jessica rolled her eyes.

Mike looked disappointed, but didn't press her further.

The conversation continued on around her, and Bella sunk into her familiar pool of thoughts. She avoided the content of her previous night's dreams, and continued with her detached speculation around the reason for Dwayne's disappearance.

Most crimes, she knew, from her limited second-hand knowledge as a police officer's daughter, began as some sort of bad feeling grown out of hand.

What would Dwayne have done?

She knew he was a drinker, but he'd managed to maintain a long marriage with Betty. But I don't know what kind of relationship that was...or is, she reminded herself. She'd watched enough of her friends' parents to know that longevity guaranteed nothing in terms of the quality of the relationship.

Who would Dwayne have pissed off?

And did he come back to make things right. Her dad had hinted at it, of course, but, it was just speculation.

John's omission, or outright lie, bothered her too.

Or maybe he's just incredibly forgetful. Some people are like that, she thought, thinking of her own mother, and smiling a little.

The jarring whir of the school bell made her jump, as she realised people were getting up and gathering their things. She reached for her bag, and stood, somehow, managing to trip over the strap, spilling the contents of her bag all over the floor.

"Whoa," Mike said, reaching down to help her up.

Jessica stood by, looking at the stretch of her possessions: wallet, evidence bags, gloves, bear spray, books, papers, keys, and a small box of tampons.

"Starin' your own crime lab there Bella?" she asked, raising her eyebrows, as she handed the evidence bags back to her.

"Something like that," Bella mumbled, stuffing things back in as fast as they handed them to her.

The second bell had rung before Bella was done gathering up her things, Jessica having left wordlessly, and Mike with a quiet "gotta run".

She tried to slip into pre-calculus as quietly as possible, but a caught the tail end of a snide "nice of you to join us, Ms. Swann," as she slumped into her seat. The emphasis of her last name told her all she needed to know about how Charlie's excuse had gone down with Berty. She was now officially the kid who had their dad pulling favours for them.

Crap. "Sorry, sir," she mumbled, trying to find her books in the mess of her backpack.

The school day didn't improve much beyond that, and Bella breathed a sigh of relief when she climbed into her truck.

She didn't even bother stopping at home, but drove straight to Jacob's.

She parked her truck, seeing him to the side of the house. He was chopping wood, the easy swing splicing the logs evenly, his rhythm unbroken by her arrival. She watched him for a moment, wondering why he hadn't stopped to greet her. Maybe he was too busy to hang out today? She flinched guiltily. She had taken up a lot of his time lately. He had school too. And other obligations, she knew too well.

Shaking her head, she chided herself for worrying too much.

"Hey Jake," she said quietly, approaching him from behind, careful to stay out of the range of the chips that were spraying off his quick axe cuts.

"Hey, Bella," he answered, grimacing slightly.

"What's up?" she asked, unsure what to make of his terse greeting.

"Your dad called," he said, taking another swing. "The blood test results came back. It's human—not that we didn't know that—but your dad wanted to let my dad know that they were treating Dwayne as a missing person, and potentially a homicide. He asked dad for a DNA sample. It didn't go down well."

"Your dad's upset because—" Bella began, confused.

"My dad thought Charlie suspected him," Jacob grinned, grimly. "Charlie did explain that he was looking to see if it was Dwayne's blood, but Billy was already in a bad mood. Then he hung up, and lit into me."

"I'm sorry, Jake—" Bella started.

"It's not your fault," Jacob said quickly, putting his hand on her arm. "I think Billy's worried, and well, it's easier to be angry, than be upset."

"Oh," Bella said, surprised at Jacob's insight.

He narrowed his eyes at her, and grinned impishly. "I think I just gained another ten years there Ms. forty-year-old."

Bella blushed. "Colour me impressed," she managed, "I'm all embarrassed to be out-insighted by a teenage boy."

"You're just jealous," he said, smiling broadly. "Come on, let's go find something suitably irresponsible to do."

"Like, investigate a missing person?"

"At Embry's place? With some pizza? And a movie?" Jake asked hopefully.

Rolling her eyes, but seeing his need for some time away from the moodiness at his own house, Bella murmured sure, and looked meaningfully in the direction of the shed, raising her eyebrows inquiringly.

Jake nodded, and they walked over, Bella tripping on the rough ground. Jacob caught her by the hip, and a flash of last night's dream returned to her. "I'm good," she muttered, and walked more carefully towards their bikes.

Embry had been happy to see them, and even happier when they ordered pizza on Bella's dime. Suitably numbed by the action movie on the TV, and the soporific effect of the pizza, Bella was surprised when Embry asked, "So, how's your investigation going?" Of course, he hooked the word with dramatic finger quotes, and then snickered.

"Aw, you're just jealous you only get to chase vampires, Embry," Jacob said, snatching the last piece of pizza.

Embry laughed good naturedly, but became a bit more serious. "You know, you're pissing some people off, hey?"

"Like who?" Bella asked, suddenly more alert.

"Whole bunch of people at Clive's weren't happy you were asking around. Grumbling about people interfering in old business," he said, taking a slurp of soda.

Bella shot Jacob a sideways look. He shrugged, but tilted his head in Embry's direction, and Bella took his encouragement, pressing on with the questions.

"What kind of business?" She kept her tone light, but was holding down a wave of excitement. If they'd provoked grumpiness, they'd hit on something someone didn't want brought up.

"Well, my Aunt Colleen, for starters. She and Dwayne…" he trailed off, blushing.

Oh, thought Bella.

Embry sighed. "And there was John's wife, that thing...you know," he nodded at Jacob.

Jacob was looking at him with surprise, "No, actually, I don't. Spill the beans!"

"Dude, everyone knows your cousin was a total player—and not just with people who were available" Embry was sitting, awkwardly on the couch arm rest, clearly not happy to have to relay this news.

Bella's and Jacob's eyebrows shot up in a synchronized action.

This changes who to look at, thought Bella. Maybe that's why—

Her thought was interrupted by Embry's Mom, yelling from the kitchen. "Jacob! Your dad wants you home—now. He doesn't sound happy."

"Oh, yeah, crap, I said I need to take him to his buddy's for poker night." He stood up. "Come on, Bella, sorry to cut this short."

Sighing, she stood too. She began the process of mentally reconciling herself to an exciting few hours of homework, and then bed.

Parting ways outside of his house, Bella drove slowly back out along the main road. Looking at the gas gauge, she realised she would have to stop for gas. Cursing her poor planning, she pulled into Clive's, whose prices were reliably higher than the station in Forks.

A sullen looking teenager ambled out to pump her gas, and Bella, not sure what to do with herself, wandered towards the store to buy a coke. It might keep her awake long enough to get her homework done. On the way, she tripped, over the bell cable that ran across the concrete pad. She caught herself, tripping sideways into the broken ice machine by the door. She was surprised to feel it was cold.

John was at the till when she came in, and she settled on some chocolate covered peanuts, to go with her drink.

"You got your ice machine fixed," she said, trying to make friendly conversation, while he punched in the numbers.

"So?" He said, a surly curl to his lip. He slapped her change on the counter.

Embry was right, she thought, he is cranky. "Thanks," she muttered, and made a hasty exit, running into the boy who'd pumped her gas.

"Sorry," she said quietly, and got to her truck as quickly as she could.

"Uh, miss, you forgetting something?" he said, following her.

"Oh, gosh, right. Sorry. What do I owe you?"

"It's $17.35."

Handing him two worn tens, she mumbled "Keep the change," and pushed the gas pedal roughly, trying to shake the feeling that John was coming after her. As she rounded the corner, she looked back to the left, and could see him, hands on the counter, eyes following her.

She shook her shoulders out as she approached the highway, and reminded herself that the pack, and Godwin were looking out for her.

It didn't help.

She didn't need to remind herself that other eyes were watching too.

Because they were.

Author's notes: Interesting to hear reader's desires in the comments. I wonder what else they want, but don't tell me. Or if anyone's actually reading this. Still, it's fun to write this tale. Happy reading whoever comes this way.

PS: Godwin didn't eat his lover, or drink him either-as a reader commented. The death was entirely accidental, and he crushes him unintentionally.