Rating: MA for violence
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.
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Thursday
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After the room settles, Edward is paranoid, his eyes darting about the room in suspicion. He pushes her roughly toward the bed. She falls back on it and he hovers over her. "Does he think that cheap parlor tricks will win you back? Does he think a gust of wind will deter me? A wind that lasted all of one minute? He couldn't possibly." His expression becomes grim. "How I wish your mind was not closed to me. Tell me truthfully, Bella. Did you know he could do that?"
This is an easy answer and requires no lies. "Honestly, Edward. I don't know if he can do that. He has never talked about it, and if he knew he could, he wouldn't keep it from me. I've got no way to know if it was even him."
He pushes off of her and starts pacing the room, his speed too rapid to look human. "Perhaps he sent a malignant spirit after us. Maybe it was one of the others. His father or a medicine man. Or perhaps they captured a vampire with such powers. Such a skill is not unheard of in our kind." He stops mid-stride to stare at her and narrows his eyes in suspicion. "Maybe it wasn't even them at all. Maybe it was you."
She blinks at him in surprise. "Me?"
"You are powerful, Bella. In a hundred years, no one else's mind has stayed hidden from me. I have never met a being who could withstand Jane's torture or Aro's touch. Maybe it isn't him at all."
A second later, he is out the locked door, but he reappears within seconds before she even has time to look out behind him. He bears a thick length of cord in his hand, and a dangerous-looking hunting knife between his teeth. She looks at him in alarm. "The knife isn't for you, my dear. I will have no need for such devices when I taste your blood." He unravels the cord and slices off two lengths. The movement is awkward with only one hand, and he has to sit and grasp the cord between his knees while he uses the knife with his hand. "I must admit that as a strategic move, I have to commend him on keeping my hand. This is a genuine nuisance. I am rather surprised he has not yet destroyed it." He looks over at her, curled into a protective ball at the foot of the bed. "But if he thinks it will change the outcome, he is fooling himself. Does he think I would exchange you for my hand? If he does, he seriously underestimates my devotion to you."
He stalks slowly toward the bed. "At any rate, until such time as I can trust you, I will have to restrict your movement. I suspect that more distractions are to come, and I cannot have you running off if I'm otherwise occupied." She scrambles away from him, but there is nowhere to go, and he is much too fast for her anyway. He bends his head toward her wrist, and she has a sudden terror that he is going to turn her now, and that the ropes are to bind her in place during her painful transformation. But instead he uses his teeth to assist him in tying one end of the rope around her left wrist, and secures the other end around the post in a similar fashion. The binding is too tight, and she knows it will leave a mark on her skin. Again, she prays that she can get out of this with only bruises to show for it.
When he takes her other hand in his, however, he runs his nose along the old scar left behind by James, and her fear ratchets up another notch. "Do you know, Bella, that this is the only place on your body that I cannot smell the mutt? If it weren't for that, I might worry that it was too late for us. That I missed my chance. That I lost the only reason I exist, and would spend the rest of my miserable existence regretting my choices." He closes his eyes and presses his cold, hard lips to the scar. She holds herself still and forces herself not to shudder, but she knows he can hear how quickly her heart has sped up. "But if the rest of your skin lives, while this is preserved for eternity, pure and without stain, I know that when you are turned, all traces of him will disappear."
He holds still for the longest seconds of Bella's life. Is he going to do it now? Is this how her human life ends? If it is, she is at least thankful that she realized and returned Jacob's love, at least for a short time. If all she gets are two weeks of bliss with him, at least she had that. She knows that it is more than many people get in a lifetime. And thanks to Alice, she will mourn the loss of a future she now desperately wants, but she will not mourn the loss of Jacob. She smiles a tiny, sad smile to herself at the thought. Then the smile turns darker.
Edward notices. "What's going through that brain of yours, my love?"
She murmurs, "Just thinking of how strong I'll be after I'm turned." For once, he hears her unspoken words. Just thinking about how I'll be strong enough to kill you.
His expression hardens, and he moves to secure her other wrist to the post. He mutters sarcastically, "Thank you for reminding me why I haven't turned you yet. I had nearly forgotten."
She knows there is no chance to change his mind, but needs to try anyway. "Didn't Alice show you the outcome if you change me? It doesn't work, Edward. I'm still with him. I still choose him."
He runs his hand through his hair in frustration. "Why do you think you're still human, Bella? I know I have to break the spell first. Otherwise I might lock it in place permanently. And the thought of that is patently absurd. A vampire in love with a werewolf? Preposterous."
She thinks to herself that the only thing more preposterous than loving Jacob when she is a vampire is not loving Jacob at all. Now that she knows what it is, not only how good and right it is, but how passionate and true, there is no going back.
Edward examines her as if he could learn how to unlock her mind if he stared hard enough. "Tell me, Bella."
She looks back at him. "Tell you what?"
"How to break the spell!"
She sighs and drops her head to the pillow. "There is no spell, Edward."
He drops his own head in frustration and runs his hands through his hair. "No, I don't suppose he would admit it to you, would he? And he certainly wouldn't tell you how to break it. Neither would I, were I in his place."
She says quietly, "You were in his place."
She thinks to herself that if he pulls any harder he is going to pull his hair right out of his head. "And I threw it all away." He looks at her with agony sketched across his handsome features. "Walking away from you was the biggest mistake I ever made! I thought that after you came for me, that everything would go back to how it was before. But he did something to you!"
Jacob did do something to her. He opened her eyes as he opened her heart. He showed her the true meaning of devotion, of selflessness, of love. He reminded her of who she really was. He made her better. He brought her back to herself.
"See! You do not even deny it! What did he do to you?"
She says gently, "It isn't what you think, Edward."
He sits on the side of the bed, hunched over into himself. "Then tell me what it was."
"He was just my friend."
Edward snorts. "There was nothing 'just friends' about it, Bella. Are you really that naive?"
She starts over. "Okay, not just. But he was my friend. He is my friend. He reminded me how to laugh when I never thought I could smile again. When you left, there was this gaping hole in my chest, and it hurt all the time. He made the hurt go away." He filled it with himself, and now he's there. For good. "He just makes me happy."
"So why did you ever take me back, Bella? Why did you come to Italy for me?"
"Because I loved you, Edward. Because I wanted nothing more than to be with you. And I certainly wasn't going to let you die!" She can't quite believe she can say those words while he has her tied down as a prisoner in this room, but it is the truth.
"Past tense. Loved. Wanted. But you no longer want to be with me." His voice cracks. "What changed?" She doesn't bother to answer. It would only anger him. "You are my one and only, Bella. I will make you mine again. I will love you until the end of time."
His words sound hollow to her now. Not once has she understood what it is that Edward Cullen sees in her. And now that she actually understands what Jacob sees in her, she is only more confused about Edward. She finds that she genuinely wants to know, even if only to understand what is happening to her right now.
"Edward?" she asks tentatively.
"Yes, my love?" he says with a weary sigh.
"Why? Why me? I don't understand. All the girls in all the world. I never understood."
He looks pained. "How can you ask me that? I've waited for you for a hundred years!"
"For your singer?"
"Yes!" he cries. "No, not just that. Not only that."
"Alice was James' singer, but still his enemy. Victoria was his mate. Emmett had two different singers, Edward. Someone else will come along. And he loves Rosalie. Not his... prey." Her voice falls to a whisper.
"It isn't just that, Bella. I admit that that was part of why I noticed you in the first place. But it is your mind that intrigues me, Bella. Not your blood. You are fascinating and lovely as no one else has been in a century."
And she finally understands. Edward is inundated by the thoughts of everyone he ever meets. Constantly. He has learned to tune them out to some extent, but the cacophony in his brain must be overwhelming. Enough to drive anyone mad. But with Bella, silence. It must be a relief. Blessed quiet. Peace. But more importantly, he has no way to judge her as he does each and every other person. As Jacob has said before, thoughts are meant to be internal. Not to be broadcast to the world. The filter that each person places over what actually comes out of their mouth is important. Necessary. Edward is bored of everything. Bored of everyone. There is no mystery, no intrigue, to anything or anyone. It doesn't matter how attractive someone is, or how much better suited they are to him. Not Tanya, not Rosalie. Their superficial beauty disappears as soon as he can hear their innermost thoughts. Some sophisticated, most banal, some insulting and cruel, many dull and uninteresting, and all unfiltered. No wonder he wants her. She is the only being in a hundred years who holds any mystery to him. He can imagine her to be as he wants, and he has done so. And until now, she was entirely happy to play along. She begged him, literally, to remake her in his own image. What a rush it must have been. Her worship, her flattery, her tenacious dedication to be his, all unsullied by the actual thoughts running through her mind.
If only she could have opened her mind to him. He would have lost interest long ago, just as he has done with every other woman. She wistfully wonders what would have happened if he had not fixated on her as she did him. She could have just had the same infatuation with him that so many others have had before him, and it would have faded away without incident. Or if it happened quickly enough, she might have just gone on thinking he hated her as she initially did. And then Jacob could have swept her off her feet just as he was meant to. She idly wonders what that would have been like. Just falling in love gradually, simply, and passionately. He has said that they would have found each other no matter what, and she thinks to herself that he is right. How much time did she miss out on, pining after Edward Cullen? What experiences will she never get to have? Right now it seems like nearly all of them.
Of course, avoiding Edward would have probably resulted in getting crushed by Tyler's van, or being assaulted in Port Angeles, or dying at James' hand. No wonder he seemed so inevitable. She owes her life to him many times over.
If only he weren't so set on ending it. If only she hadn't begged him to, time and time again. He himself tried to convince her to stay human, and she didn't listen. And now it is nearly too late.
She clenches and unclenches her her hands. Her hands tingle from the compression of her bonds. "Edward, please. My wrists hurt. I can barely feel my hands."
He hangs his head in what actually looks like shame. "I am sorry, my love, but it is a necessary evil." He moves to the french doors and opens the heavy curtains, staring out onto the beautiful scenery below.
She is getting angry and sad all at once. "This isn't what you do to someone you love, Edward. This isn't love. If you really loved me, you would never tie me down against my will."
"It is his fault, Bella. Not mine. If he would only leave us alone, only leave us to each other, I would not need to stoop to such methods. Do you think I like this? Do you think I want it to be this way? I want only to restore what we had before." He moves to straddle her legs and caresses her cheek with his one good hand. "Don't you remember? Or has he clouded your mind so much that you cannot even recall?"
"I remember," she murmurs. Of course she does. Edward was her first love, and as such, would have always held a special place in her heart, had he not done this. Edward made her feel like no one had ever made her feel before. Treasured. Valued. Special. Her parents never made her feel that way. Before she moved to Forks, she felt ignored entirely. Perhaps the attentions of a nice, normal boy like Mike Newton would have flattered her if she had not been so blinded by Edward. And Edward opened up an entire world full of potential that she had never known.
But the price for access to that world was too high. And now she realizes that its attractions pale in comparison to the life that was in front of her all along. The life she was too naive to value when she had it. The life that Jacob wants to share with her.
He interrupts her thoughts and grips her shoulder eagerly. "Then join me, Bella. We can go back. We can have that again. If only you agree. If only you can let him go. I can change you now, today, and we can walk out of this place. Go anywhere we want. Do anything we want. No one to stop us. Nothing to hold us back. We can have eternity, and we can have each other."
Tears well up in her eyes. "Not this way, Edward. Not this way. If you turn me now, I'll be more bitter than Rosalie. More angry than Victoria."
He can read the truth on her face, and jumps off her in frustration, landing in the chair. He slouches in it and glares at her. He stares at her for hours, unmoving except to answer a phone call, for which he leaves the room. Who could that possibly be? Surely nothing good will come of it. Otherwise he is still. Eventually, sunlight filters in from the window, sparkling on his skin. He doesn't close the shades or move from his seat. He doesn't bother with the pretense of human qualities like fidgeting or shifting, or even blinking. He has no need of breath, drink, food, or even simple entertainment. He just stares at her. It drives home to her just how unnatural he is. It makes her terribly exposed, particularly since the lacy hem of her gown rode up high on her legs when he moved on her. She locks her legs together and tries to look anywhere in the room but him.
By mid-afternoon she can't feel her hands at all. Her back aches where she slammed into the lower post earlier, when he tossed her across the bed, waking her roughly from her dream of Jacob. He hasn't given her food or water since the night before, so her mouth is parched and her stomach empty. She is cold in the air conditioned room, lying on top of all the bed covers. She would will herself back to sleep if she could, try to find the little red house for a few moments of comfort and respite. Perhaps Jacob is there waiting for her. But she is too fearful to sleep despite her fatigue. Eventually her exhaustion and her fear take over, and she cannot hold back her tears any longer.
Edward's expression barely changes at all in response to her quiet weeping. But he notices a shift in the room at the same moment she does. The temperature rises a few palpable degrees. The marks on her shoulder and breast start to tingle. Heat settles over her, and her shivers still. Her tense muscles relax. She thinks to herself that perhaps she is on the blurry edge between waking and sleeping. In a moment, maybe she will open her eyes to see the little red house in front of her.
Instead, she feels the gentlest, softest caress on her lips, so slight it is barely detectable. She opens her eyes in surprise, and looks right into Jacob's eyes hovering above her.
It is the strangest sight she has ever seen. She can see right through him. His eyes are there, deep brown and full of concern. His strong jaw is set with tension, his brow furrowed with worry. She can see each feature right there. But she can also see the ceiling behind him, see right through him to the light fixture on the ceiling.
Has she lost her mind? Has she wished so hard for him that she is hallucinating his spectre above her?
Perhaps not. Edward frowns and slowly rises from his seat. Above her, Jacob holds his index finger to his lips in a gesture of silence. She stills and stares upward. Edward opens the door to the closet and steps inside, returning only moments later. He does the same to the bathroom. It is obvious that Edward cannot see what she can see, but he knows something is different. But he doesn't know what. He opens the french doors and steps out to the patio, then comes back in. He unlocks the door and steps out onto the hallway, then carefully latches the locks behind him. His footsteps recede.
Jacob waits until Edward is out of earshot, and buries his face into her neck and envelops her in an embrace. It feels like she is being cocooned by heat. The tingling in her marks turns into a pleasurable ache. She hears his murmuring voice in her ear. The sound is an echo, as if he is speaking to her from a long distance. But she can hear him. She has never heard anything more precious in her life.
"I'm sorry. I've got you. I'm going to find you. I'm so sorry."
"Jacob?" she whispers, still unbelieving. "Are you really here?"
He pulls back so he can speak to her properly. "Can you hear me, honey?"
She nods. She keeps her voice low since she doesn't want Edward to hear her. "What's going on?"
"I came to find you, sweetheart. I don't know where you are, but I came looking. I sent my spirit out to find you, like the original spirit warriors, and here you are. Thank god." He pauses to press another kiss to her lips. "I want to explain, but I don't know how much time I have. Edward will probably figure it out soon enough. I need to figure out how to get to you for real. Do you know where we are?" He lifts off her to look around, and for a second she is too surprised to answer. She just stares at his ghostly figure floating above her. "Bells? Do you know where we are?"
She shakes her head. "I passed out when he got me into the car. The last thing I remember is seeing Seth. Oh my god, Seth!" Her voice rises in anxiety.
He holds his finger to her lips. "Shh, honey. I don't want him to hear you. Seth is unconscious. Dr. Cullen and Rosalie are taking care of him. I'll tell you more if we have time, but first I have to figure out where we are. Do you know anything?"
"I've only seen this room. I looked out the window when it was dark, but that's all. But I know I woke up here at 3:30 AM, so we must still be in Washington. Or maybe Canada."
"Wow. That helps a lot. You couldn't have gotten far at all. I'm gonna take a look." His figure floats to the open doors, and she sees him hovering above the patio, peering from side to side. She is disconcerted to realize she can see the bannister and sky right through him. He returns after only a few moments. "I need to go out there. I want to see if I can find a street sign, an address, something. Will you be okay?"
"I don't want you to go, Jacob," she whispers. She is so afraid, and he is her only source of comfort. He lowers himself to her and she is enveloped by his heat again. "I'm warm with you here. In every way. It's cold and frightening otherwise."
"Oh, honey," he murmurs. "I know. But I have to get to you for real. Which means I need to figure out where we are. And I can't really fight him this way. Look," he says. He moves his hand to her wrist. "I can't untie these." His hand just slips through the knotted bindings and through her arm. It feels like tingling energy through her flesh. He floats up and examines her. "Um, the only thing I know how to do is create wind. Remember? It's in the stories, and I did it earlier today with the curtains. But I'm not sure how."
"That really was you!"
"Uh huh. But I was asleep still. Now I'm awake. Let me try something." He approaches one of the curtains and experimentally blows on them, and they flutter in response. "Huh. Well, at least I can fix your dress. Your legs must be cold." He twists to position himself above her, but faces toward her feet, and creates a gentle gust of warm air that blows her dress down her thighs.
She smiles and thanks him, and he kisses her once more on the lips. She loses herself in the pleasant, tingling warmth until he reluctantly backs away. "Honey, I really need to take a look around. I'll be back as soon as I can, okay?"
She tries to put on a brave face, but fails. "Okay. Okay."
"I love you. No matter what. Remember that. I'm coming for you. Okay?"
She nods. "I love you too. More than anything. And I trust you."
He kisses her once more, and then he is gone. By the time Edward returns to the room several minutes later, he has not yet returned. The room is cold. She hears the slide of both locks, and her heart rate picks up. Edward enters, stuffing his phone into his pocket. She looks at him in trepidation. How much does he know? She decides to delay his questioning of her as long as she can. "Edward?" He just looks at her, his expression carefully neutral. It reminds her of Carlisle, but is somehow infinitely less pleasant. "I need to use the bathroom."
He blinks a few times, suspicious. But it has been hours, and is completely true. "Of course, my love." He undoes her knots with his teeth, and she rises stiffly. She tries to stand, but sways on her feet and stumbles back down as her vision temporarily grays out. She is dehydrated and dizzy. She sits still and tries regain her equilibrium and shakes her hands as sensation painfully returns to them. "Are you alright?" he asks, looking genuinely concerned.
"Dizzy. Dry," she replies, and totters to the bathroom. She drains two glasses of water before bothering to close the door, a difficult feat for her fumbling, still-numb hands. She will probably regret it later when her bladder feels like bursting, but dehydration is of greater concern.
"I am sorry, my love. I won't let it happen again."
She doesn't respond, since the only thing she can think to do is yell at him for tying her down in the first place. She just shuts the door so she can use the toilet in privacy. She hides in the bathroom for as long as she can. She even looks out the window to see if he can catch a glimpse of Jacob somewhere outside, but he isn't there. However, when she emerges from the bathroom, she hears a howl in the distance. It isn't one of the pack. Both she and Edward recognize the difference. It is a normal wolf. But it unsettles him and reassures her nonetheless.
Edward stands on the balcony. "I do like to hunt a good predator. Perhaps that will be my next meal," he speaks low under his breath. But he meant for her to hear him. She knows he does. He secures her to the bed again, but this time he ties her ankles together and secures the binding to the bottom post of the bed, and then ties her wrists together. She is afraid he plans on stretching her out and will tie her wrists above her head, but he does not, instead getting her a meal which she eats awkwardly with her hands bound together. Once finished, she rolls onto her side, facing away from him. From time to time his phone rings and he leaves the room to answer it. He does not explain why, and she does not ask. She tries to speak to him as little as possible. She is startled to realize that captivity is nearly as boring as it is frightening.
Later that afternoon, an eagle alights on the rail of the balcony. It leaves only when Edward shoos it away, circles several times high in the sky, and alights in a nearby tree. Edward stares at it suspiciously until it flies away, and then returns to his position from the leather armchair, staring at her intently. She keeps her back to him, but can feel his gaze boring into her.
Edward himself grows weary of her attitude, and eventually looks to the bookshelves for a distraction. Of all the works in front of him, he plucks her copy of Robinson Crusoe offstage shelf. He thumbs through it idly. She is simultaneously heartened by its existence, and heartbroken when her pressed daisy from Jacob flutters to the floor, and Edward notices the hitch in her breath and casually grinds the flower to dust under his heel. She wills herself not to cry, and waits for her Jacob.
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Jacob quickly circles the house. It is a large, three story single family home, no doubt the vacation residence of a rich family who refer to it inaccurately as a cabin. It sits on a large wooded lot overlooking a long, slender lake. On the other side of the lake lies a mountain range. From the sun's position to his left, Jacob determines that the length of the lake lies in a north to south direction, and the house sits on the southeastern end.
Jacob circles the house, a modern structure full of glass. He sees no house number, but there is an unfamiliar car sitting in the garage, a black Range Rover Evoque. He makes note of the license number. He heads down the drive, a long, meandering path through the trees, to find a mailbox at the end marked 845. He doesn't see a street sign anywhere, but the road is a rural, two lane, winding street bordered closely by forest on each side. He shoots high in the air to get a look from above.
As he ascends, he realizes that he can hear all the living things below him distinctly. Not only their calls, cries, and chittering, but the ruffling of feathers, shuffling of movement, and huffing of quick, small breaths. He can sense the energy of each living thing, great or small. There is a cornucopia of life below him. And at the center, the beating heart of his beloved. His mate. And next to her, an icy void of stillness. There is a lack of life, an absence of energy. His mortal enemy. Death.
He rises higher. He can see a white sand beach along the southern border of the lake, and scattered roofs along the eastern side of the long, slender lake. There are a few boats and kayakers on the water. Mountains border the northern side. And on the western border of the lake, he senses a kindred spirit. He veers left to investigate, and flies over the water. He hears the strong beating heart of his kin before he sees it hidden amongst the trees. A lone wolf, male. Russet, like him. Large for his species, but nothing to compare to Jacob's Alpha. He sees it staring at him. He shifts his incorporeal form into that of his wolf, and his smaller brother squats down in a position of submission. He shifts back so he can speak with it.
"I am ShÃpa."
The smaller wolf cocks its head at the sound of his name spoken in its original form. He switches to his native tongue. He explains that his mate is held captive on the south shore. The wolf understands. He, too, senses the unnatural predator within. He asks for the wolf's aid, and the wolf lets out a long, single howl of assent.
But before he can explain fully what he needs, he feels himself being pulled back. He hears voices in the distance, and feels his spirit being tugged toward his body. He lifts in the air against his will. He isn't ready yet. He doesn't know where Bella is. But the pull is irresistible. He calls out to the wolf looking up at him from below, and asks him to watch over his mate. The wolf silently sets off toward her as Jacob rises up and away. He tries to take in as much as he can while he is still able. He sees a road to the east of the lake's edge, but none to the west. He climbs higher, and can see another large lake to the west, and an major road, a highway of some kind, to the south.
And then he is falling. The scenery below him changes. The voices in his ears get louder, although the sound of rushing wind threatens to drown them out. He looks forward, and sees an eagle circling him. It is the same one that helped him begin his journey. It dives with him toward his body until he asks it to watch over his mate. The eagle turns east immediately, its broad wings extended on the wind. The forested land of his home rushes toward him, and he sees the strangest sight of his life. His own body in the clearing below, torso covered in an intricate pattern of black paint, his sister hovering over him, calling his name. Old Quil feeds the fire, and one of his pack brothers is speaking. The voices become clearer.
He drops into his body, sitting bolt upright and startling his sister, who gives a surprised, "Oh!" and falls backward to land seated on the ground. Old Quil and Jared turn to stare at him.
He dives right in. "I found her! She's alive. But I don't know exactly where she is."
Old Quil jumps right out of his lawn chair, fists raised in the air, and gives out a whoop of victory. "You did it! You did it! No one has done that in hundreds of years!"
His sister rises up on her knees and reaches out for him. "Are you okay, Jacob? I was worried. Your breathing got really shallow and your pulse slowed down. Really, really slow. You were getting cold despite the fire. I wasn't sure if you'd come back! So I started calling for you."
"I'm fine, Rach. See?" He spreads his arms wide to show her. "But more importantly, I found her. I wanted to look around more, but I felt myself getting tugged back here."
Old Quil interrupts, "You are looking at the first great Spirit Chief since Taha Aki, girl. Of course he's okay!"
Jacob's stomach grumbles loudly, and he holds it in his hands. "But I'm really thirsty and hungry," he says, frowning. "As if I just ran hundreds of miles without stopping."
"You did! You probably did go hundreds of miles!" Old Quil laughs and tosses him a bottle of water.
Jared is looking on with an expression of awe on his face. "Jake, I saw you, man. I was patrolling, and I heard the eagle cry, so I looked up. And there you were, right behind it. But I could see right through you. It was insane! What was it like?"
Jacob sobers. "It probably would have been fun if I wasn't looking for Bella. I have to get to Charlie. I have to let him know what I found out. Is he back from Port Townsend yet? What time is it?"
Rachel checks her watch. It is three pm. This exercise took much of the afternoon, although Jacob was actually gone for only a few minutes. He realizes that the trance he entered in order to separate his spirit from his body lasted for hours.
Jared answers Jacob's other question. "He got back a little while ago. I heard the car pull up while I was on patrol."
Jacob nods, eager to resume his search. He needs to get to his Bells as quickly as possible, before Edward gives up waiting for the Volturi and changes her. He stands and shakes Old Quil's hand in both of his. The old man has a strong grip. "Thank you. Thank you so much."
Old Quil grins. "I got to be a part of the most important event in our tribe's history in centuries, Alpha. It was an honor. Thank you. Anyway, I didn't do anything. You did."
"What are you talking about? Without the ritual, I never could have done that. You made that happen."
There is a twinkle in the old man's eye. "The ritual? That's no ritual. I made that up."
Jacob's jaw drops open, as does Rachel's and Jared's. "You what?"
"You haven't been listening to me. Nobody has done this for hundreds of years! We have an oral history, young man. There are no centuries-old journals lying around. But the power was in you, Jacob. I just helped you relax and focus enough to access it."
"The chant?" Rachel asks.
"The story of Kaheleha, plus a lullaby my grandmother used to sing to me."
"The herbs?" Jacob asks.
"Pizza seasoning and some powder from one of young Quil's old magic sets from when he was a little boy."
"The pattern on Jacob's chest?" Jared points to him.
"Just a doodle. I like to doodle."
"So the fireboard was just because?" Jacob is incredulous.
"For focus," the old man replies, looking very smug. "Close your mouth, children. Flies are about to take residence. Don't you have somewhere to be?"
Jacob shakes himself, "Uh, thank you anyway? I mean, like you said, you helped me access it. So thanks." Old Quil nods with a satisfied grin. Jacob turns to his sister. "Can you guys get back okay? I want to get to Charlie's as fast as I can."
She nods. "Go. Go get your girl."
So Jacob and Jared run into the woods and phase. Quil has taken over patrol from Jared, returned from a trip to the Makah reservation to visit Claire.
What the fuck, man! I leave for two days and all hell breaks loose!
I know. I know.
Quil senses that Jacob is in no joking mood, and simply offers, What can I do? Just tell me.
Keep doing what you're doing. Someone still needs to make sure there's nothing new out there. It would be just our luck for a couple of nomads to arrive right about now looking for a snack.
Of course, man. But I want to help you find Bella. She's my friend too.
Thanks. We're probably still going to be going well into the night. Come find me after your shift, and I'm sure I'll have something for you to do.
Okay, boss. Good luck.
Jacob asks Jared, Any news about Seth?
No change yet. But he's no worse, so that's good.
Jacob wants to go see him, but he can't afford to stop yet. They arrive at the Swan residence within minutes. Jared enters without a word. He doesn't know what needs to be done yet, but he intends on being there to do whatever he can. Sam enters moments behind them bearing six extra large pizzas.
Charlie sits at the kitchen table, new papers spread in front of him. He looks exhausted. Paul sits next to him with a highlighter in his hand, marking another stack of papers.
Jacob dives right in. "I went on a spirit quest, Charlie. I saw her. She's still alive, and she's basically okay."
"Wait, what?" Charlie can't quite process this news. The wolves sit down to listen to his story.
"That's where I went. That's what my dad wanted Old Quil for. We went into the woods and he performed this ritual. I sent my spirit away from my body, and I went to find her. I don't know exactly where she is, but I got some information that maybe we can use."
"But she's okay?" Charlie's shoulders slump in visible relief.
Jacob nods. "He has her tied up now, for some reason, but they're still in the same place as they were this morning. I talked to her. She could see me, sort of, but Edward couldn't. She could hear me. She knows we're trying to find her. I told her."
"Thank god." Charlie rubs his temples with his fingers. "Tell me everything."
Jacob reaches for Charlie's pen, and scribbles down a series of letters and numbers on a sheet of notebook paper. "That's the house number. I didn't see a street sign, though. That's the license plate number of the car that was in the garage. It's a black Range Rover Evoque. I figure it's probably the car he escaped in." Charlie takes the paper and nods. "And they can't have gotten very far. Bella said she woke up in the room she's in now at 3:30. So that line," he points to the map on the wall, marked with their search radius, "is probably too far out."
"Right," Charlie replies. "He took her around what, 9, 9:30 last night? And they were driving, so they could only have gotten about 6 hours away."
"He drives fast, Charlie," Jacob adds.
Charlie rises and stares at the map. "So if we're generous, they still have to be somewhere in here." He makes a smaller semicircle on the paper.
"And there's more. I saw a lake right outside the house."
Paul snorts. "So that's, what, only three or four hundred lakes in that radius?"
Sam smacks him upside the head. "Let him finish!"
"It was a long, skinny lake, and it ran north to south. The house was on the southeastern edge. It had a pretty major highway a few miles to the south, and a smaller road running along the east. The eastern edge had houses and was a little developed, but the western shore was all forest. The south side had a beach, and all along the north were mountains."
Paul admits, "Okay, that will narrow it down."
"And there's another large lake, also long and skinny, a few miles to the west."
Charlie instructs, "Paul, go to my study. Lower right hand drawer of the desk. There are a bunch of maps in there. Get the one that gives us a better view of this area. This one's way too big, but that description should help. A lot."
"What have you guys got? There's a bunch of stuff here," Jacob asks.
Sam answers, "Blondie's coming through, Jake. I think I may be forced to like a vamp. She faked a subpoena for Edward's phone records," he points to the stack that Paul was marking, "and his known credit cards, and already got the statements. There are a bunch of calls to Italy up until he stopped using his own phone a few days ago."
"The Volturi," Jacob replies, and Sam just nods.
"That reminds me," Charlie mutters. He picks up his phone and dials. "It's me. Jake found her, sort of." He pauses as Rosalie asks him what happened. The wolves can basically hear everything she says with their enhanced hearing. "It's a long story, and I don't understand it. He didn't even bother telling most of it to me. He'll probably tell you himself sometime. Well, he found a car, for starters. I don't know how far you've gotten through those tapes, but start looking for a black Range Rover Evoque, plates EJ6 L45. It's probably the getaway car, but I'd like to confirm that. Thanks. Oh, and does this number ring a bell?" He rattles off the Italian phone number that showed up on Edward's statement, while Paul returns from upstairs with another map in his hand. He pins it to the wall next to the larger one, and draws the radius on it as well.
With the more detailed map in front of him, it takes Jacob all of thirty seconds to identify the only possibilities. "Here! Oh my god! Here!"
Behind him, Charlie says, "Hold on. Jacob found something." Charlie stands and walks to the wall with Jacob. "It has to be one of these! Look! These three lakes." He points to three lakes, each long and slender, side by side, in the middle of the Cascade Mountain Range. "Keechelus Lake on the west, Little Katchess in the middle, and Cle Elum on the east. It has to be either Little Katchess or Cle Elum, since there was another lake to the west of the one I saw."
Paul points out Interstate 90. "And here, Jake, the highway running south of the lake."
They hear Rosalie interrupt, "Shit! Here it is! The car, I see the car! The windows are tinted, so I can't see in. But they drove by the gas station in Port Townsend at, um, ten thirty last night."
Charlie mutters, "You're kidding. You can't possibly be that fast." They hear laughter on the other end of the line.
She replies, "I'm watching all the videos you gave me, all at once, on different screens, in ten times normal speed. It didn't take that long."
"Jesus. You should join the force. You'd be unstoppable."
She laughs, "I am basically unstoppable! Oh wait, more statements are coming in on the fax."
Charlie tilts the phone down and explains. "Since we got the other social security numbers this morning, she already got subpoenas for credit card reports. It took her something like five minutes to type up four subpoenas, fax them off to the credit reporting agencies. She's got some more statements coming in now."
The wolves examine the map while waiting for Rosalie to examine the statements. Sam says, "Port Townsend is only, what, three, four hours from the lakes? It fits. It all fits. Now you just need a street name, and we're set. Hell, you barely even need a street name. Maybe we can just go smell them out. Or run along the lakeshore until we find the house."
Jacob is already itching to leave. But there are two possibilities, and he doesn't want to waste time searching the wrong lake.
Paul points out, "These maps aren't very detailed. You said there wasn't much built up on the west side of the shore, right? If we can get a better map, we might be able to tell. Where's the computer?"
Jacob sighs. Bella's computer is ancient. "In the bedroom. It'll take ten minutes just to get it up and running and get the maps up."
Rosalie interrupts from the other end of the line. "It's Cle Elum. My computer sucks less than yours does. By a lot. It's mostly forested on the west side, but Little Kachess has roads running up both sides. And Edward used one of the new credit cards at a grocery store there. Fucking bastard. He went and stole the identity of someone with my last name. Alias is Robert Hale."
Jacob jumps up. "That's all I need. I can find the rest just by looking. Thank you, Rosalie!" He yells at the phone from across the room.
"Hey," she replies, "I'm not deaf! Just go get her. Don't let what happened to me happen to her." Charlie holds the phone away from his ear, since now she is yelling right into his ear. The line goes dead, and Charlie stuffs the phone back into his pocket.
He moves to the counter, where his holster and gun rest, and straps them on.
Jacob protests, "Now, hold on, Charlie. I'm sorry, I know you want to go. I know you want to help, and that you need to see Bella every bit as much as I do. But a bullet from that gun will just bounce off him. At best it will do nothing; at worst it will ricochet off him and onto you or Bella."
"So I'll leave this gun behind," Charlie argues.
"He isn't a normal perpetrator, Charlie. He can run over a hundred miles an hour. His flesh is as hard as stone. You saw what we did to that thing last night. Ripping their arms and legs off doesn't kill them. You saw the vampire's arms. They kept trying to crawl back toward the body to reattach themselves. We fucking decapitated that thing, and as soon as its head got reattached to its body, it woke up again. If you've got a rocket launcher in the police locker, you could give that a shot. Or try a nuclear bomb. But the only thing we know of that will kill one of those things is, well, it's us."
Sam adds, "We're sorry, but if you come, we all know what will happen. He'll go after you, and you have no way to defend yourself. He'll either try to drain you or turn you. He'll use you against Bella. He'll use you against us."
"Actually, there's something I want you to do, Charlie," adds Jacob. "I ripped of Cullen's left hand. It's in the safe in my garage. I want you to wait there. I might need you to light the damn thing on fire for me."
Charlie grins, "Do I have to wait for permission?"
Jacob laughs. "Yeah, please wait. But here's the combination." He writes it on a scrap of paper and hands it to Charlie. "I'll call you if I need you to light it, or one of the pack will tell you. Don't try to touch it. The grip could strangle you or break bones. Just toss in a lit match. Okay?"
Charlie agrees. "Consider it done. Just bring my baby girl home to me, Jacob."
Jacob heads outside with his brothers. They move into the woods to phase. He quickly fills in Quil as to their plans. Quil offers to ask Collin to take over the patrol, and insists on joining them.
And if you think Embry is going to be willing to sleep through this, you're out of your mind. Quil is already on his way to get Embry out of bed.
Then Leah phases in unexpectedly. Planning on leaving without me, Jake? Fat chance.
Leah, I thought you'd want to be with Seth.
I do. But I want to rip off Edward Cullen's balls off more. Just try to stop me from coming. Her voice is a snarl. Besides, we all know you're going to sprint ahead of everyone else. I'm the only one who can get there as fast as you. And you need the backup. You know you do.
Someone else has to stay here to protect the Rez, the imprints, Seth and Brady, Charlie, and our families. We let ourselves get too focused on Bree all at once, and that's how we lost Bella in the first place. Collin shouldn't be here by himself.
I'll stay, Jared chimes in. He is a good choice, as his instincts are to make sure Kim is safe, and she is on the Rez right now. Jared heads back to LaPush.
Jacob responds, Thanks. Set Collin up near my house in case we need to burn the hand. Everyone else in?
They set off east, sensing Quil and Embry not far behind them.
As expected, Jacob and Leah quickly outpace the rest of the pack. Jacob can't help but run at top speed. He knows that Edward sensed his presence earlier, and he is terrified that Edward will have either lost patience or decided to leave before he can get to Bella. They also brainstorm ways to sneak up on Cullen, whose mind reading abilities will make it nearly impossible to catch him off guard. Jacob fears that Edward will turn or kill Bella as soon as he realizes they are close, and he will have no chance at all to rescue her. A plan begins to form in his mind.
It only takes about an hour to cross southeast through Olympic National Park, but they then have to take a slightly meandering path to get around Olympia without being seen. Quil jokes that they should all doggy paddle across Puget Sound so they don't have to swing so far south. Another hour after passing Olympia, they reach the Cascade Mountain Range, and are able to pick up speed again. After three and a half hours, Jacob and Leah approach Little Kachess Lake from the western side. It is far enough away that Cullen will not hear them. They find a clearing and stop. Jacob phases back to human and sits on the ground while Leah remains in wolf form, watching over him. One by one his brothers arrive, watching him in fascination.
He quiets his mind. He tries to remember the peace that washed over him when he lifted into the air on his first spirit quest. There is no eagle to focus on here; the eagle is watching over his Bella at this very moment. He looks up at the gentle swaying of the trees and loses himself in the rhythm of the woods around him. He focuses on his brothers' heartbeats. He listens for the sounds of life around him. The raccoons have woken and are stirring about. The squirrels have fallen asleep, but he can hear their quick, even breathing and rapid, steady heartbeats. An owl has just begun its day. He reaches out farther. Beneath the waters of the lake, fish are lazily swimming about. Frogs and toads lend their voices to the night. He reaches out farther. Across the lake he senses a family of deer starting to move along the water's edge quenching their thirst. Beyond them a fox chases after a rodent. He reaches out farther. And a few miles away, he finds the heartbeat of his mate. He realizes he is already floating, and has left his body behind.
He speeds toward Bella, and in this form, easily finds the house. A now-familiar smaller russet wolf emerges from the trees in front of him. He thanks it, and requests further aid. It assents. It wants the unnatural predator gone from its land. It turns to gather its pack.
He seeks the rodents. The rats and the mice, the squirrels and the groundhogs. They come. He seeks the mammals. The raccoons and the feral cats. The wild dogs and the deer. They come.
Jacob seeks out the nocturnal fliers. The bats. The owls. Then he wakes the sleeping birds of prey, the hawks, the kites, the falcons. They, too, want the Cold One gone from their land, and they gather to him. He seeks the peaceful, smaller birds. The songbirds and water birds. The pigeons and the doves. The large and the small. The eagle alights from its perch near the house, and starts circling above him, wherever he goes. It will be his herald.
The animals gather, and he flies back to his body, protected by his brothers and sister. He circles his still form, relishing the flight and the freedom once, twice, then drops back into his body, blinks awake, and phases into his wolf.
He looks up at the eagle, and it gives out a cry. The rodents pour into the house through all its nooks and crannies.
Edward hears the skittering of hundreds of tiny feet, and is alarmed. They climb up and up until he hears them in the walls of the bedroom. Then he sees them. They drop in through the vents, they run in under the doors. He starts to stamp at them mercilessly, but there are too many. Not a single one approaches the bed, and Bella looks on with fear and amazement.
The pack begins to run, sprinting full tilt toward Lake Cle Elum.
Jacob looks up at the eagle, and the eagle cries again. A hundred birds alight on the balcony. Edward hears them land and yanks opens the curtains with an angry gesture, pulling the rod right out of the wall and sending the drapery tumbling to the floor. At that moment the bats arrive, beating their wings against the glass. The pack arrives in range of Edward's telepathic power, but he is so distracted by rats biting uselessly at his ankles, by mice running up his leg, and by the thrumming of a hundred wings right outside his window that he does not notice. He continues stomping at the tiny creatures underfoot, but there are simply too many.
Jacob looks up at the eagle, and the eagle cries again. A cacophony of sounds fill the air. Dogs bray. Cats yowl. A twelve point buck rakes its antlers against the side of the house. Raccoons clamber up the drain pipes onto the roof, and then drop to the balcony below, where the birds make room for them and alight upward, causing the rhythmic sound of hundreds of wings beating against the air. The small mammals start to pound up against the glass. The sound drowns out Edward's ability to focus, and pack gets closer, still unnoticed.
Jacob looks up at the eagle, and the eagle cries again. The small russet wolf bursts through a screened window into the living room, its glass window carelessly raised to let in the cool night air. A pack of small wolves pours into the living room and bound up the stairs, howling. They throw themselves against the locked door.
The pack arrives in sight of the house, swarming in creatures great and small. Jacob runs faster than he has ever run before.
And Edward senses him. Senses all of them, and realizes he allowed himself to lose focus because of their menagerie of a distraction.
He stops bothering to brush away the rats climbing up his legs and over his pants, and grabs the knife. He instantly flashes over to Bella and swiftly slices through the rope binding her to the post. He tosses her roughly over his shoulder, jabbing his rock hard arm into her stomach. "He can't have you," he growls, and throws open the door. Two small wolves immediately barrel into him. He brushes them aside like so many mosquitoes, and tries to make for the garage, intending to spirit Bella away to complete his desired plan. He will turn her or kill her now if he has to, but he wants to wait until the last possible second in case he can get away with her alive so that Chelsea can break the spell before he turns her.
He stops trying to fight his way down the stairs and simply flings himself over the bannister, dropping into the living room below. But at that moment, Jacob flings himself through the open window, Leah jumping in right behind him.
Jacob doesn't bother trying to talk to Edward. They are well beyond words. He simply screams, Now! to Jared, and takes a great leap toward Edward.
Miles away, Charlie lights Edward's hand on fire, and he drops Bella to the floor with a startled scream of agony.
Jacob aims for Edward's right arm, trying to incapacitate Edward while also throwing himself over Bella's vulnerable form. But Edward twists at the last second, so Jacob ends up wrapping his powerful jaws around the only body part he can reach: Edward's left shoulder. He severs the entire left arm from Edward's body. Jacob's momentum carries him slightly behind Edward.
Leah sees her opening. Edward's left side is now fully exposed and facing her. She has a clean shot, and jumps forward, sinking her teeth deep into his side. She doesn't let go, and holds him in place. Jacob whirls around and sinks his teeth deep into the back of Edward's skull and twists his head, ripping it cleanly off the torso.
And then he freezes in horror. He can now see what Edward's body blocked from his view. Edward's right hand, still wrapped around Bella's fingers, her wrist sliced open and bleeding.
Teeth marks. Edward is all but dead. All they have to do is burn his body. But Bella has already been bitten.