Grace's POV
Four days had passed since my run-in with the vampire who'd bitten me. I'd stayed as far away from the Cullens' home as possible. Not only to avoid that rancid stench, but to resist temptation. One sniff and I knew I would go into a rage. This was the first time I had ever been afraid that I wouldn't be able to control myself.
Since the incident, Jake had returned to sulking in his room. If this was how it had been since…Bella, or whatever, had died, I could see why Billy had said he wasn't himself anymore.
Jake and I had known each other for as long as I could remember, and while this…shell was the physical Jacob, and his words and mannerisms were the same, his essence had gone.
If I could have gotten hold of Bella when she'd been alive, I'd have strangled her.
Between Jacob's story and what the rest of my friends had said, I'd gathered almost all that had happened. From what I knew, it sounded as though she'd led him on.
But whatever the situation, I resolved to get my Jacob back. I needed him back. And my Jacob was different than the one Bella had known, I was sure. Anyone could have loved my Jacob.
I was lying in the crisp grass of my yard. My dad and Cally were working (they ran an antique store) and I was just thinking. Trying to decide how to go about getting Jacob out of his moping mood.
A light breeze was blowing, my loose hair dancing over my cheek and across my forehead.
Then, a scent, though faint, climbed up my nostrils and I sat up.
It wasn't the awful scent of the other half-breed, or the stench of a normal bloodsucker. It was the familiar smell of my kind, though it didn't seem like anyone I knew. Then again, I'd been gone a long time, who was I to say I could tell one from the other anymore? Then again…I was pretty sure I could.
Suddenly, as quickly as it had come, it had gone. I hadn't even had enough time to follow it, to investigate.
Standing, I brushed the loose grass blades from my jeans and shirt. I turned around, again and again, but it was gone. The smell had faded.
With little other choice, I walked slowly back to my house, eyes flitting left and right through the trees around me. Once there, I slowly stepped in, shutting the squeaky door behind me.
I wanted to be calm, not nervous, collected.
Nevertheless, I locked my door.
