Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of Stephenie Meyer. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

X-x-x-x-X
Wednesday night
X-x-x-x-X

Before Jacob leaves to search the cabin where the newborn was supposed to meet Edward, he has Sam and Jared separate the head from the torso. He has to admit that the thing was rather useful, and might be so again. He is sorely tempted to burn the pieces and be done with it, but he suspects that the creature has not yet outlived its usefulness. For tonight he distributes the pieces among the wolves to safeguard until morning, when he will assign someone to purchase four heavy safes for storage, much like he did with Edward Cullen's hand.

When he leaves the Swan house, Alice and Esme are sitting at Charlie's kitchen table. Despite the setting, it feels very much like an interrogation, and Jacob sees a side of Charlie that he has never seen before. The two vampires, both older and much stronger than Charlie, squirm in their seats under the intensity of his gaze. It turns out that Charlie is very good at his job. Alice keeps tossing apologetic glances Jacob's way, but he is no more forgiving than Charlie is at this moment.

Then he runs.

He finally allows himself a moment of weakness. The wolf is desperate for his mate. He has just found her, fallen under her spell, taken her for his own and given himself over. Panic and anger course through the wolf. The man despairs. He spent his lifetime waiting for Bella. Waiting for her letters. Waiting for her return. Waiting for her smile and warm eyes. Waiting for the chance to make her laugh. Waiting for her to return his love. And finally, finally having it all within his grasp.

He made her happy.

And as quickly as it came, he let it slip away. Guilt and misery wash over the man. He failed her. He might as well have let Edward Cullen strap a collar on his neck and lead him around.

Embry follows and tries to placate him, while Sam, patrolling alone, gives them space. Don't do this to yourself, man. There's no point.

How can I not? It's my job to protect her. To keep her safe. I finally convinced her, finally had her. I had his throat in my jaws. I could have ended it all then. If I had, she would be at Charlie's right now.

And we would have gone to war with the Cullens. Some of us would probably be dead right now. You just saved Seth's life, Jacob. You had a split second decision to make, and he's going to live because his Alpha caught him. But he would be dead right now if it weren't for what you did.

I should have stayed at the house myself. Not left him alone to guard them.

Then the newborn would have gotten there. You were the one who caught up with her, Jake. You were the one who figured out what she could do.

And I fell for it anyway! I let Sam stare down nothing, and sent Leah chasing after nonexistent hikers!

Because it would have been just as likely for there to have been one or two real vampires mixed in with the fake ones. Which you knew. Which is why you had us be cautious. It would have been even worse if Bree had mixed up real vampires and fake ones just to throw us off, and you had no way to know that she didn't do that. Actually, it was kind of stupid for her not to do that.

I know, but...

But you'll get her back. We'll get her back. Remember what the psychic said. There isn't a future in which she leaves you.

But he might turn her.

So let's go find her before he can.

But the cabin turns out to be as empty as expected. Cullen had been here at one point not long ago; his scent is rather fresh. They eagerly follow a trail leading east as light rain begins to fall, but it ends in another busy parking lot. Dejected, Jacob and Embry turn for home.

By the time they arrive, the eastern sky is starting to lighten. The sun will rise soon. They stop by the Swan residence and are only a little surprised to find Billy still there. They hear voices inside.

"I'm really angry at you." Charlie sounds more exhausted than anything else.

"I know. That's fair."

A sigh, "Thanks for sticking around."

"I'm not letting you do this by yourself." A pause. "I could really use a drink. Only at this point it would just make me fall asleep, and we can't afford to fall asleep."

Charlie mutters, "Counteract the alcohol with caffeine. Red bull and vodka. Coffee and whiskey. Rum and coke."

They hear a smile in Billy's voice. "Mountain Dew and irish cream. We'll give the recipe to the bartender in Oregon. We'll call it Charlie's Angry Juice." Charlie snorts, and then they both chuckle weakly.

Someone has kindly left extra clothes on the porch. The Clearwaters' sedan still sits in the drive, forgotten during the ambulance ride to the hospital. They smell the lingering acrid stench of the Cullens, long gone by now.

Charlie and Billy sit at the kitchen table with mugs of coffee in their hands and documents scattered all around them. Dark circles hang under both sets of eyes. Charlie looks like he had aged ten years in just one night, but he looks up hopefully at the opening of the door. Jacob just shakes his head and slumps into a chair. "Dead end."

Charlie narrows his eyes and says, "Not dead until I put a nail in the coffin. Tell me."

Embry and Jacob look at one another and begin. "The cabin was a rental. Cullen had been there pretty recently, actually. We could smell him. But it already has someone else staying in it. We even tracked his trail for a while, but it ended in another parking lot."

Embry muses, "He really did have this planned out. Pulled the same trick as yesterday. Switching cars like that."

"What was the parking lot for?"

"Uh, a strip mall."

"Containing..." Charlie prompts.

Embry starts rattling off, "A Chinese restaurant, a Dairy Queen, a liquor store, copy shop, computer repair place, um..."

Jacob takes over, "A pet store, bagel shop, a bank, and a gas station."

Charlie leans back in his chair with a renewed spark in his eye. "Now we're getting somewhere, boys. How old do you think the trail was that led away from the cabin?"

Jacob answers, "Three or four days old, maybe?"

Charlie pushes a pad of paper and a pen toward them. "I want the locations. The parking lots, both of them, and the address of the cabin. Embry, hand me that phone," he says, indicating the one on the kitchen wall. He pulls a scrap of paper from his pocket, and dials. "Yes, it's me. I'm going to take you up on your offer." He pauses. "Uh huh. Right." He waits. "Subpoenas. Yes." He nods, "I'll call back with the details. But we'll start with credit card data opened under any known SSN. Any other updates?" He frowns. "Okay, thanks." He hangs up shortly thereafter.

Billy looks at him with suspicion. "Friend in the DA's office?"

Charlie shakes his head. "Rosalie Cullen."

Billy frowns. "When did she make you an offer? And what offer did she make?"

"It was when the doctor called last night with an update." He turns to Jacob and Embry. "Seth sustained two fractures in his neck, um C4 and 5, I think he said? It was like he said last night, if they slip out of place they could damage the spinal cord itself. He said the cord looked bad, and if it were a normal person they'd be paralyzed from the neck down permanently, if they even survived. But he said with you guys, maybe not. We just have to wait and see. I guess there's also a lot of swelling on the brain that has to go down before we can tell if he's going to wake up."

"Shit," Embry breathes. Jacob thinks only that Seth has to wake up. He lost the car, he lost Bella, in order to catch Seth, so Seth simply has to wake up. Then he feels guilty for the thought.

What he actually says is, "And the offer?"

"Document forgery. They didn't exactly come out and say it, but they have gotten very good at identity theft over the years. Stolen social security numbers, forged birth certificates, fake transcripts, that sort of thing. A fake subpoena should be no big deal."

Billy understands. "Going to do a little investigating of your own?"

Charlie nods. "Gonna find my little girl."

"What can I do?" Jacob asks. Now he is the one who feels useless.

Charlie's voice is hard. "Once I find them, you can rip Cullen's goddamn head off while I start the fire."

"But for now, get some rest," says his father. He is about to refuse until he realizes that a dream may be his only way of contacting Bella.

"Um, is it okay if I clean up, Charlie?" He gets a simple nod in response and heads up the stairs. He hears them continue talking.

"Can I help go through this stuff?" Embry offers, pointing at the piles of papers on the kitchen counter. "What is it all, anyway?"

"Property deeds, mostly, to the various homes the Cullens own. This stack contains the other identities that Edward has been known to use. Somewhere in there are the accounts the family knows he opened. There are some other records in here, too. Medical degrees, college degrees."

"Okay. Do you have a map?"

Jacob ponders Embry's odd question as he quickly showers. He tries not to listen to the discussion downstairs. He stares at Bella's bed, despondent that she isn't curled up in it waiting for him. He crawls in, pulling her sheets over himself so he can bury himself in her scent and in her things. He stares at the door, willing her to walk through it. Despite his exhaustion, he has a difficult time falling asleep. The urge to go downstairs and help Charlie with his search is strong. The urge to leap out the window, phase, and run until he finds her, is stronger. Eventually he pulls one of her pillows out from underneath his head and curls up on his side, holding it to his chest. It is a pathetic substitute for Bella, but it smells like strawberries, and the feeling of something soft in his arms is eventually enough to lull him to sleep.

X-x-x-x-X
Early Thursday morning
X-x-x-X

She doesn't remember approaching the little red house, but she finds herself rising from Jacob's small bed. He isn't there, and the room is cold. She parts the curtains on his window and looks outside, but instead of seeing his familiar backyard, all she sees on the other side is a heavy drape of deep blood red. She lets the curtains fall. She is cold. Terribly cold. For some reason, she is wearing a silken nightgown in a deep shade of blue. The bodice is fine lace with just enough silk to keep her from feeling completely naked. The neckline is high but essentially transparent, and the back is basically nonexistent. The lace trim of the hem sweeps the floor as she walks. It is lovely, old fashioned, freezing, and looks like nothing she would ever pick out for herself. She quickly shucks out of it and it pools on the floor at her feet. She tugs on one of Jacob's t-shirts to surround herself in his scent, pulls on some of his thick white socks, which are so big that she swims in them, and grabs all the blankets out of his closet. She spreads them onto his bed, climbs underneath, and tries to get warm. His rainwater and pine needle scent comforts her, but drives home the fact that he isn't there. She lies awake for what feels like hours, alone. But it is still better than when she is startled into another bed.

Bella is freezing. She wakes up to the sensation of a single cold finger running down the length of her spine, and a hard set of chilled lips press against the small of her back. She forces herself not to move, but all she wants to do is run away. She has been awakened in such a fashion before, but by a warmer finger, a lighter touch, and sweeter, softer lips. This feels completely wrong. Now her body knows what a loving touch feels like. Here there is only fear.

She wants to return to her dream and wait there for Jacob, but the cold touch doesn't let her.

She opens her eyes to poorly lit surroundings. She lies on her side on a king sized bed. The sheets feel like satin, smooth and cool. She can't tell the color in the darkness. She sees heavy curtains all around. It must be a four poster bed with the drapery drawn. She glances down at herself. Her regular clothes are gone, replaced with what feels like a silken nightgown with a plunging back. Ah. So this is the garment she removed in her dream. If only she had one of Jacob's shirts here to wrap around her. For that matter, she might as well wish that the body behind her belonged to Jacob as well. Especially since she knows that he must have removed all her clothes, touched her skin, seen her flesh, if she is wearing this ridiculous negligee instead of her own clothing. Once upon a time, not long ago in fact, that fact would have titillated her. Now it only causes revulsion. She feels the bed dip as he shifts behind her, and his cool breath on her neck. She shivers.

"I know you're awake, my love." She says nothing. "You have nothing to fear, Bella. Not anymore. You are safe now. Soon, all will be right between us again."

Her first inclination is to run. She knows there is no point in that, so she doesn't flee. Her second inclination is to scream at him for harming Seth, but she fears that will only worsen her situation. Is he even alive? What has Edward done to him? The last thing she remembers is seeing him slumped down in the front seat of Edward's Aston Martin with a wound that would have meant instant death to any normal mortal. Bella can only pray that his wolf's healing powers have somehow saved him. Then another thought occurs to her. Perhaps Seth is here somewhere? For what purpose, she can't imagine, but he was in Edward's car.

When she speaks, her voice is hoarse. Her throat is dry. "Is Seth okay?"

He actually sounds surprised at the question. "Seth? A once pure soul corrupted by the Quileute black magic. He was lost, I fear." Bella's heart flips in her chest. For several long seconds she hears nothing but the sound of her own pulse in her ears. His voice starts to register again. "I once thought that he and I might actually be friends. Such pure thoughts. So innocent and kindhearted. But the pack mind infiltrated his psyche. I suppose I should not blame him," Edward says thoughtfully. "Once Black took over as Alpha, his power over his packmates was great. It is no wonder that Seth fell under his spell. If Back is powerful enough to enchant you, you who repel not only my own abilities, but even those of the Jane and Aro, then what chance did poor Seth Clearwater have?"

Bella can't stand to know, but not knowing is even worse. "What happened?" she whispers.

"To Seth?" He still sounds perplexed by her line of questioning. "He was trying to keep you from me, Bella, they all were. So I did what I had to do."

Her voice catches in her throat. But she needs to know. "What did you do?"

But he isn't going to give anything away. His voice is falsely soft and reassuring. "I did what was necessary. I did what I had to in order to rescue you. So we can be together, my love." A hard edge creeps into his tone. "And I will do anything to restore what we had. What we will have again. And we will be happy, Bella, for the rest of time."

He pushes her onto her stomach and leans over her mark. His voice is a bare whisper. "I cannot rid you of his marks. And while you still live, I cannot rid you of his scent." He lightly presses his lips to the spot on her shoulder, and sharp pain blossoms there. She stifles a startled gasp, and suddenly finds herself on her back with him straddling her thighs. His good arm pushes her shoulder down into the mattress, and he hovers over her with a predatory look in his eye. But he holds his left arm conspicuously behind his back. His gaze focuses in on her breast. On the satin that covers her newer mark. And she is certain now that he has seen her naked. That he examined every inch of her skin while undressing her. It is the only reason he would know where to look. She is terrified, and fears he will mistake the rapid drumming of her heart for excitement, or worse, arousal.

She can barely hear him when he speaks again, but the sound is menacing. "If only he had left just one mark. I cannot erase a mark, but I can make it mine." Oh, no. He plans to bite her over Jacob's mark when he turns her. Her heart sinks. "I do not know if I have the restraint to bite you twice and not drain you fully." He heaves a little sigh and closes his eyes. She stares up at him in terror for long seconds, until his eyes blink open and gaze into hers. She cannot tell in the darkness if they are still topaz, or if he has damned himself wholly and they are red. "But I must. I must have the control, else you will be lost to me forever." His grip on her shoulder tightens painfully.

So is this her fate? One of the futures Alice has foreseen? Is he going to turn her now? Is this how she ends up living an angry, immortal existence? At least Alice gave her the hope that she might still have Jacob by her side. But she doesn't want that mockery of a life. She wants to live. She wants to go home to Jacob and her father. She wants to go to college, but only once. She wants to marry Jacob. Bear his children. Raise them to be like their father, teach them to avoid her mistakes. Wants to watch them grow as she ages herself, as she matures and evolves with her love by her side. She tries not to let tears well in her eyes, but doesn't really succeed.

But he moves off her, and her terror subsides just a little. "It does help that your scent is no longer so alluring. It is even worse now." He glares at her. "You should not have allowed him to mark you a second time, but I suppose it will make it easier not to drain you completely. And when I do that, you will be mine, and his foul scent will be gone forever."

He flashes back to bury his nose in her neck, right at her pulse point. "It is maddening, Bella. The underlying scent of you is still there, driving me insane, but shifted just slightly. It's him." He sounds positively agonized. Then he wrinkles his nose. "Actually, you smell like several of them."

She doesn't know what to say. Her voice cracks. "Leah and Seth." And Jacob. My family. I smell like my family.Suddenly he whips open the curtains and yanks her to her feet, dragging her to the bathroom. She gets a quick glimpse of the room she inhabits. It seems to be a large bedroom with heavy curtains blocking large windows on the wall opposite the bed, a fireplace flanked by large leather chairs off to the right, and a bookcase built into the left wall between two doors. A clock on the shelf reads 3:34. Unless she slept more than a day, they couldn't have gotten very far. He pulls her through the door on the right, which turns out to be a bathroom tiled with gray slate which is dominated by a huge freestanding stone tub.

Edward opens the tap to fill the tub with water, and from the linen closet pulls out her strawberry shampoo and vanilla bodywash, and sets them on a table by the tub. She is relieved to see that his eyes are still golden. But her relief is short lived. "I want to wash them off you as best we can." Her heart thuds in her chest and she starts to tremble. Is he going to make her bathe in front of him? She can't help but remember the tender sponge baths that Jacob gave her in his garage and in his bedroom after making love to her. He would actually fit in this tub with her, it's so big. She knows Jacob would love to give her a full bath sometime. He has even spoken of the house he imagines building for her, and the clawfoot tub he wants in their bathroom for that very purpose. She prays Edward will not mar that experience for them.

He steps toward her and behind her. She feels his cold touch on her shoulder. His fingers slide under the straps of her negligee and he pushes them down her arms, first the right, then the left. It slips to catch around her hips, baring her breasts. She covers herself with her hands. She has to stop him. "Edward," she breathes.

He hovers behind her gripping her right arm tightly. It is going to bruise. She hopes she can get out of this with only bruises to scar her. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees him looking at her nearly bare form in the mirror. His eyes are black with lust. "Edward?" she whispers. She doesn't try to speak any louder. She knows her voice will shake. "I need a human moment."

He blinks and steps away from her. "Of course, my love." He goes to the linen closet and pulls out fluffy white towels and sets them on the shelf under the shampoo and bodywash. She notices that whenever he moves, he strategically holds his handless left arm in a position where she cannot see it. "I'll be just outside." She collapses to the floor in relief when he shuts the door behind him.

She tries to catch her breath, and pulls the straps of the gown back up over her shoulders. She doesn't bother to turn the lock, as she knows there is no point and will only anger him. She dumps an excessive amount of the wash in the tub to create a thick layer of bubbles. If he comes back, at least she can shield herself with them. She takes her human moment while the tub fills, then finds a glass in the closet and drinks from the tap. She fills the glass twice once she realizes how thirsty she is.

The tub is large and takes several minutes to fill. She finds a folded bathrobe in the closet. It is much too large for her, but she will be glad for the extra coverage. She feels almost naked in the negligee. Then she leans over the tub to part the gauzy white curtains blocking the window. She sees a large lake bordered by pines, and the shadow of mountains in the distance. She doesn't see other homes in view, but it is still quite dark. The night sky is blanketed in clouds, blocking the moon's light. It has started to rain. She can see very little else, but the ground looks as if it is probably three stories down. She lowers the gown and steps into the steaming water. She knows that no matter how hard she scrubs, her marks will still hold Jacob's scent on her body, and it comforts her.

She bathes efficiently, but then lingers in the water. Edward seems to be giving her some privacy, and she will take advantage for as long as she can. But eventually she hears him moving about the room and takes it as a signal. He would be silent unless he wanted her to hear. By then the water has gone tepid anyway. She takes her time as she dries off, and finds her brand of lotion in the closet and a hair dryer in the drawer, as well as a new toothbrush by the sink. She uses all of them, just to use up time, before she can come up with no more excuses to stay in the bathroom.

She steps into the cool bedroom wrapped in both the negligee and the thick robe. Edward sits by the fireplace, which is now lit. She takes a better look around the room. Past Edward is a door she had not seen earlier in the dark, which must be a closet. Unlike the bathroom, done in natural stone and granite, the bedroom is pretentious in a whole different way. The massive four poster bed is draped with blood red drapes and a gold brocade duvet. It appears he already changed the sheets, probably to rid the bed of the smell of wolves. The endtables look like French antiques, the chairs facing the fireplace are gilded leather with a pattern of interwoven leaves on the back, and a delicate oriental rug covers much of the hardwood floor. Jacob would hate it. The floor is chilly, so she goes to stand on the rug.

Edward just looks at her, frowning a little. "I didn't mean for you to put on that robe. If I had, I would have given it to you."

"I was cold," she explains.

He looks contrite. He hasn't spent time amongst humans lately and has forgotten their basic needs. "I'm so sorry, my love. How forgetful of me." He stands to adjust the thermostat by the door. "Here I have started a fire, but forgot and left the air conditioning on. Not very responsible of me, is it?"

"Are there socks somewhere?" The more clothes she can get on, the better. But she knows that even if she wears two sweaters and thermal underwear, she won't really feel warm again until Jacob's arms are around her.

"Of course, my love. Sit." He gestures to the other chair. He opens the door behind him, which indeed must be a closet, because he comes out with a pair of thick, itchy woolen socks. He kneels in front of her and moves to slide them up her feet, but then realizes he cannot with only one hand. So he just runs his finger along the side of her foot while she tries not to flinch away from the chill of his skin. But he notices anyway, and looks pained.

She is afraid of antagonizing him, so she says, "I'm just cold, Edward. The bathroom was nice and steamy, but this room isn't. I'm not used to the temperature yet."

"It will be better soon, between the fire and the robe you found. And soon enough we will be the same temperature, love, and you will no longer feel a difference." She smiles weakly at him, which apparently satisfies him. Does he really know her so little as to know when she is just trying to appease him? He is either ignoring it, simply biding time until he Chelsea arrives to try to sever her bond with Jacob, or he really doesn't know her at all. She is beginning more and more to think it is the latter. Not for the first time, she wonders what it is he sees in her. "And you will no longer need human food, but that day has not yet come. Let me get you something." She isn't hungry at all, is actually rather nauseated, but the thought of sitting here with him just making small talk and having nothing else to occupy her is even worse. So she consents.

She pays close attention as he walks to the door. The knob on the exit is shiny silver chrome and looks nothing like the others in the room. He must have replaced the knob. Otherwise, who would put an external lock on their bedroom door? Her suspicions are confirmed when he pulls a key from his pocket to unlock it. She gets the briefest glimpse of a balcony overlooking the floor below, but can't see anything else before he shuts the door. She hears not only the click of the latch, but a second small thud indicating another lock on the outside.

She stands quickly to look around. The door next to the fireplace does indeed lead to a closet, and a large one at that, luxurious enough to contain its own round sofa in the center. The back wall is occupied by a large window, but another cursory glance reveals it is still too dark outside to see anything new. She moves back into the bedroom. He could easily return in a second. She notices a telephone jack behind an end table, but Edward removed the phone. She parts the heavy curtains on the back wall and discovers French doors that open out onto a large balcony. She is tempted go out, but doesn't want to press her luck. She lets the curtains fall and looks at the bookshelves. Her eyes zero in on a leather hardbound volume lying on its side. Robinson Crusoe. She is about to reach out and touch it when she hears the slide of the external lock, and she has just enough time to step aside to make it look as if she was inspecting a different shelf before Edward opens the door.

He bears an ornate tray in his hands laden with food. He doesn't seem concerned by her movement to the shelf, and she realizes he could hear her movements from downstairs all along, and he apparently doesn't care. She sighs in relief until she spies one bowl of strawberries and another of cream, and her heart sinks. He sets the tray on the end table, parts the curtains, and turns down the covers on the bed. "Please, I want you to be comfortable, my love." He gestures for her to climb into bed. "I'd like to serve you breakfast in bed," he smiles. She protests, claiming that she is much more comfortable eating at a chair and table, and walks to the fireplace. There is a table perfectly suited to the purpose placed between the chairs.

"You know me, Edward, I'm a huge klutz. I'll just knock the juice onto the pillow and get crumbs all over the sheets. Let's sit here. It's safer." She tries to smile as if she is joking. He looks irritated, but sets the food down and sits on the opposite chair, pulling it close to hers. He reaches for a strawberry with his good hand and moves to dip it in the cream. Her stomach churns. Edward wants to feed it to her. It is a small thing, she knows, but she wants to keep pure her memory of her first date with Jacob on Third Beach. She quickly reaches out for a cracker and stuffs it in her mouth, chewing noisily and successfully ruining the moment. Then she tells a bald faced lie. "The cream and the strawberry together are too sweet. I think maybe I'm getting a cavity, because eating sweet foods started hurting one of my teeth a couple weeks ago." She knows she is a terrible liar. She is going to have to avoid any sugary food he gives her from now on just to try to perpetuate the falsehood. He frowns. She can tell that he can't tell if she is lying, joking, or telling the truth, but she still manages not to eat any strawberries, and he doesn't try to feed her any more food by hand. She decides it is a victory, if only a small one.

After she eats the last cracker, suddenly she finds herself being lifted to her feet. In stark contrast to the sudden movement of pulling her up, he stops with his hand on the tie of her robe. His pupils dilate, and he tugs it open, letting it pool to the floor. He gazes at her newly exposed flesh before dipping down to sweep her up and place her back on the bed. It would be romantic if he was the right man. Instead it's just frightening. He tucks the sheets around her, then the duvet. It isn't nearly enough to warm her, particularly when he slides in beside her. She lies stiffly on her back while he rolls onto his left side and runs his fingers up and down her cheek.

"You don't know how much I've missed holding you in your bed. Come here, my love." He slides his left arm beneath her and rolls her so that her cheek is tucked up against the crook of his shoulder. How did she ever find this comfortable before? It's like lying on a cold rock. A cold rock wearing an Armani dress shirt.

He breathes her in and murmurs. "It's not so bad now. I could get used to it, if I had to."

She jumps at the opening. "Would you, Edward? Would you still love me if I stay this way? You once told me that was what you wanted. A single human lifetime with me."

His grip on her tightens. His voice is weary. "How would that work, exactly? I get you during the day, and he keeps you at night? Or he gets weekdays, while I take weekends and holidays like divorced parents? I don't think he'll agree to that, Bella." She isn't sure she has ever heard sarcasm from him before. It doesn't particularly suit him.

"It's not all about him, Edward." She can say it because it is true, and the truth wouldn't bother Jacob in the least. "I've spent the last few weeks realizing what Charlie means to me. My human friends and family."

He laughs darkly. "Your new friends aren't exactly human, Bella."

"But Charlie is, and Renee, and Angela. Even Mike and Ben."

He sighs. "I can hardly fault you for wanting to stay in your parents' lives. But Angela? Mike? Ben? We both know that the one you want in your life is the mutt. If your parents were really so important to you, you would never have asked to be changed in the first place. What did he do? How did he steal you away from me?" He actually doesn't sound angry. He sounds plaintive. Sad.

She almost replies that Jacob didn't do anything. But it isn't true. Jacob did everything. He told her he loved her, and then he showed her what that meant. He fought for her and almost died for her. He showed her that her life was worth living. He opened her eyes to the potential of their shared life. She had always thought that she was boring, her life devoid of meaning, and that Edward had imbued it with purpose. Jacob showed her that her life was already full of wonderful possibilities, and promised to explore them with her.

So she tells Edward, "He showed me how important my life is."

He replies quietly, "I tried to tell you that before. You didn't believe me."

She had wanted Edward so badly that she was willing to give up everything for him. She was ready to give up everyone else, and is ashamed at her own behavior. But she cannot tell him that. Not now. "You were right. I just didn't see it."

"I can't walk this earth without you, Bella. I can't walk away from you. Do you understand that? I could stay with you as you live a human life, as I once asked of you. But now I know that you would walk away from me. His spell is strong. His magic is dark and powerful. I have to find a way to release you from it."

She almost replies falsely that there is no magic in Jacob, but that too is a lie. There is the obvious, of course, the magic of the spirit warriors, of the wolf. But that isn't the magic that drew her to him. That isn't the magic that keeps her enraptured. The magic that holds her is the warmth of his smile, the comfort of his embrace, the richness of his laughter, the passion of his love. He is wiser in his sixteen years than Edward is in one hundred and five. Jacob's magic is powerful indeed but it isn't dark. It is light. The air. The sun. Just as he had promised her.

She murmurs, "It isn't a spell, so it cannot be broken."

"Even by his imprint?" Edward asks quietly.

"I'm not going to live in fear of that. He might never imprint, or he might imprint and fight it, or I might lose him. In that, it isn't much different than any other relationship, Edward. Humans don't come with guarantees. If he was just a boy, it would not be so different. I could fall in love with him and he could fall out of love with me. I'll take the time I'm given." As the words come out of her mouth, she realizes it's true. As much as she once longed for a guarantee, one does not exist. Falling in love is a leap of faith, and there is no one better in whom to have faith than her Jacob. Has she figured it out too late?

"And when he leaves you for her?"

Then I'll fight for him like he fights for me. But she can't say that to Edward, so what she does say is, "I won't like it, but I'll survive." Just like I survived when you left. She thinks this knowing, of course, that Jacob himself was the reason she did.

Edward is silent for a long time. "I don't know how to do that." It's the most honest thing he has said to her tonight.

She lies uncomfortably still, pulled stiffly against him, trying to will herself to sleep. She can see through a crack in the curtains that the sun has just risen. Despite her exhaustion, sleep is difficult, for she fears that she will not wake, or that when she wakes, she will no longer be herself. But she knows there is a chance she will see Jacob in her dreams, or at least transport herself to his house, and it comforts her. She pretends that the arms wrapped around her are broader and gentler, that she shoulder cradling her is warmer and softer, and eventually she slips away.

It is freezing outside. She needs shelter, and the house in front of her is the familiar little red one that she always comes to in her dream. But the door looks different. It's white and it has no hole for a key. It appears oddly familiar, but totally out of place. It suddenly makes sense when she opens it. Her own bedroom lies on the other side. And in the bed lies her Jacob, curled on his side, fast asleep. She approaches the bed with soft footfalls, and walks around it so she can see his face. He is clutching her pillow tightly and has a little frown on his face even though he is deeply asleep. It makes him look like a little boy having a bad dream. She reaches out her hand to smooth the wrinkle from his brow, and he unconsciously leans into her hand. He sighs and relaxes in his sleep. She smiles to herself, and moves around the bed to crawl into it behind him, tucking her face into the back of his neck. She breathes in deeply. It's the scent of home. She is warm for what seems like the first time in days. She shifts down a bit so that she can press her cheek into the space between his shoulderblades. She runs her fingers up the length of his arm, and then down again, and on the downward pass interlaces her fingers with his. She draws his hand in toward his belly and squeezes lightly. He squeezes back. He shifts against her and rolls over. He is awake.

She tilts her head back to look at him, and sees a tear slip out of the corner of his eye.

She can barely hear him when he speaks, gazing at her intently. "Where have you been?"

"I'm here," she replies.

"You're here?" he repeats softly, his voice tinged with sadness and fear.

"I'm here."