thirty-four.

(Leah)

Sitting through yet another week of school whilst Jacob runs around after vampires who would quite happily kill him — or rather, stand on the side-lines and watch him die in their place — proves to be a whole new kind of torture for Leah. Especially now that Sam has started to ramp up patrols again, what with the redheaded leech being back and all. As if Jacob's schedule isn't hectic enough already.

And it's only Monday morning.

By lunchtime, she feels like she's been at school for nineteen hours and has forty assignments in her rucksack, weighing it down and giving her sleepless nights already. It's no wonder that the boys have all dropped out when she herself can barely keep up. Not to mention that she's going to have to spend her lunch and free study period drafting out Seth's boring-as-shit freshman History essay instead of her own boring-as-shit senior English Literature essay, all because he was too busy risking life and limb instead of spending his weekend working on his assignments.

She refuses to complain. Refuses to give in, because she knows that the second her little brother catches wind of her frustration he will plead his case to join the Pack full-time again. It wouldn't matter if she were on the other side of the world and so much as scowled at her textbooks, he'd call her out on it — he's been listening out for the signs, watching and waiting, all for a reason to argue. Just as he has been nearly every day since she made the decision that they were both going to graduate.

So if she has to do his assignments for him to make that happen, then so be it. She might not have control over Sam needing all hands on deck, she might not be able to stop him from breaking his promise to keep Seth at home studying, but she does have control over this.

The school library is tiny, just like the school itself, but Leah spreads her bag and books out over a whole table they're usually meant to share between three or four students, and she settles in for the next two hours. She gets a few looks — including a particularly stern glare from Mrs Irving, the school's librarian, especially when she breaks out her sandwiches and threatens to leave crumbs everywhere — but Leah feigns ignorance and starts penning an introduction for Seth's essay on Steinbeck's use of nonfiction sources in 'The Grapes of Wrath' . . .

It's riveting stuff.

Not.

Honestly, it's so boring that she'd rather be sitting in a lecture for one of her crappy electives — electives she is only taking to boost her GPA, otherwise she'd drop the extra workload in a heartbeat. She'd only signed up for them in the first place because she had been planning to follow Rachel and Sam to college and she needed the extra credit. Now she needs them to simply graduate.

By the time she finishes eating her lunch, she has already stifled a hundred yawns or so when someone approaches the table and pulls out the free chair that is closest to her.

Leah doesn't have to look up from the page she is reading — and loosely plagiarising from — to know who it is.

"That's taken," she says, blinking away tears of exhaustion.

"Oh," comes the timid voice she has been expecting. "Are you saving it for Seth? I can sit on one of the other ones."

Leah keeps both her pen and her eyes on paper. "Don't you have friends your own age, Kim?" she asks with a weary sigh.

She doesn't mean to be rude. Well, she does. But Kim Connweller is barely a year older than Seth, is in a committed life-long relationship and doing the dirty already, which is nine kinds of weird (even without factoring in the supernatural secrets), meaning that Leah has about as much in common with her as she does Bella Swan.

Which is to say, not much at all. Nothing. Zilch. Squat.

Except for one thing. And apparently that one thing is why the other girl has made it a life mission to become friends with Leah by seeking her out — and following her around — ever since she returned to school. Mostly it happens every lunch period, almost as if Kim thinks that the girls are bound like the boys are bound.

Leah remembers telling Embry that she didn't think she was going to like Kim very much.

She was right.

(It's not a 'girl thing' — it's a 'people thing'. Leah can count her friends on one hand; she knows who she can trust, who she can rely on, and who she can't. Unfortunately for Kim, she just isn't one of those people. Pack or not.)

"What are you working on?" the girl asks instead.

"The Dust Bowl." Leah blinks, hard, trying to clear her vision. Her handwriting is getting sloppier and sloppier with every sentence. "I think. It's Seth's."

"I did that last year," Kim replies, and she makes it sound like an offer.

But Leah is nothing if not stubborn. "I'm sure you're busy enough as it is."

Of all the Pack, Jared is the only one who is keeping up with his schoolwork, and that's purely because Kim gives him all her notes and turns in his assignments. In fact, Leah is pretty sure that Kim actually does all his homework for him and just signs it off with his name.

Much like she's doing for Seth.

Kim doesn't move, her hand still on the back of the chair. "Steinbeck, right?"

Leah finally looks up at her. It's a face she knows well, even without being followed around and the whole creepy sister-imprint thing Sam tries to encourage, because everyone knows everyone on the Reservation; there's less than a hundred kids enrolled in their school, from kindergarten all the way to twelfth grade. Of that, only eight are seniors. There's about thirteen kids in Seth's grade, seven kids in the grade below that. Twelve in the junior class — eleven, without Paul. There are far, far less sophomores, of course, their number of five seeming rather pitiful with Jared, Embry, Quil and Jacob being absent. It's probably why Kim feels so lonely, being in an empty classroom like that.

Leah heaves another great sigh and pushes the barely-written essay across the table. Call it her one charitable act for the month. For the year.

Humming with something that sounds suspiciously like victory and satisfaction and pure pleasure all mixed together as she pulls out the chair, Kim's tight-lipped smile over her broad, pretty features suggests she's otherwise trying to reign in the triumph she so obviously feels.

She perches on the edge of her newly claimed seat with a straight back, looking ready for business, grasping the essay between both hands. She looks entirely too pleased with herself, Leah thinks.

"What's the question?"

"Non-fiction sources, something something," she mumbles back, her head getting lower and lower until she's resting it on her forearm and closing her eyes. She blindly offers up the pen with her other hand which is instantly plucked from her fingers. "Don't make it too fancy; he's missed half a semester, remember."

She doesn't receive a reply, so she cracks one bleary eye open and says in her best severe tone, "This doesn't make us friends."

"What about study partners?" the girl asks quietly, a fierce blush blooming.

"I guess," she says grudgingly. "I mean, if you have to put a label on it, sure."

The younger girl giggles, wholly awkward and a little bit too loud for the librarian's liking. She is promptly hushed, and Leah thanks her stars for it . . .

. . . until a few minutes later when, after the coast is clear, Kim drops her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "Jared said you were funny."

Teetering on the edge of the best power nap she's ever had during school hours, Leah finds she doesn't particularly want to listen to any imprint-induced swooning and cusses something slightly unfavourable towards Jared underneath her breath.

Thankfully Kim doesn't hear a thing. She stays where she is, working dutifully on Seth's History paper until the period bell rings again.

When school finally, finally lets out for the day, Leah meets her brother as usual in front of the main building and tries to plaster a smile on her face in spite of the frown on his.

"Come on, kid," she says cheerfully, reaching up (and up) to ruffle his chopped hair. She has to jump a little; he is six-two at fourteen-years-old thanks to his lupine genes and is growing more with every day that passes, she is sure of it. "Only four more days to go 'til the weekend."

Seth takes her backpack and slings it over his free shoulder, his own bag hanging lowly off the other one. He doesn't seem to notice the weight. "If I have to sit through another double period of History, I think I'm going to explode," he grumbles, moody. "Literally."

"Good thing your essay is done, then," she replies, nodding to her pack.

"Already? Wow. Thanks."

"Don't thank me. Kim did it."

"Kim?" he asks, more disbelieving than anything else. He knows more than most people that Leah has been avoiding the girl and their traitor cousin for a reason, although Leah would bet that he doesn't really view Emily as a traitor anymore; he spends as much time at her house on the edge of the Rez than he does at home, even if he hasn't dared to say as much in fear of upsetting the balance they all seem to have found.

Leah shakes her head. "Don't ask."

"Right," Seth says slowly. "Well, anyway, now we have to do this project on it too. Group project. And they're just all . . ." He trails off, familiar anger brewing behind his eyes as he begins the walk off school premises.

She has to hurry to keep up with his long legs. It's still disconcerting that her baby brother has such an advantage over her when less than a year ago she could pat him on the head without straining.

"You're not going to explode," she says, as gentle as she is confident. "You wouldn't be back in school if anyone thought that. Your control is almost as good as Jake's."

Usually, Seth preens under such praise. Especially when he's compared to his hero. But not today. "I don't know, Lee. I nearly flipped this afternoon. Over nothing. Had to ask for a hall pass so I could pretend to go to the bathroom and cool off."

"If it makes you feel any better," she offers lightly, not knowing what else she can give him other than sarcastic retorts and grumblings of her own (after all it is her fault that he's having such a hard time), "I think Kim is my new best friend. On the plus side, she'll probably do all your homework if I ask her to, so you don't have to worry about that."

Seth levels an unimpressed look down at her which she meets with a comical one of her own. "At least you have someone to talk to. I'm finding it kind of hard to stay friends with anyone in my class, you know, considering they've never tried to kill a vampire or regularly turn into an animal, or anything. Kind of hard to relate."

Leah's smile is the most genuine it's been all day. Let it never be said that she's not taught her brother dry humour. "I'm so proud of you, kid. Really."

Her brother snorts with a shake of his head, but at least he's finally smiling, too, his anger having fractured enough that she knows he'll be calm by the time they get home. He probably just needs to eat.

"Yeah, well. Whatever." He scratches the back of his neck self-consciously. "I know you'd kick my ass if I quit—"

A sudden roar of an engine from across the tiny parking lot of their tiny school has their heads snapping away from each other, and Leah's smile reforms bigger than before.

Jacob.

He's in a black tee and jeans that are smeared with grease. He's even wearing his combat boots, and Leah thinks it's the first time she's seen him with shoes on his feet and more than a simple pair of battered cut-offs covering his ass for weeks.

She hurries over with a speed she would usually mock other people running to their boyfriends for, Seth now the one who is hot on her heels instead, except he doesn't have such a hard time trying to keep up with his stupidly long legs.

"Hey man," he says for them both. He is either oblivious or politely ignoring the way Leah has all but thrown herself into Jacob's arms. "What's up?"

"I gotta go do something," Jake says by way of a reply, looking at her only. Like he is regarding her carefully as if to judge her reaction. Seth might as well not be present; they are both unaware of him and the stares of their passing classmates. If anybody didn't know that she was dating Jacob Black, they certainly do now. "And you're not going to like it."

Leah raises a brow and pulls back just enough to be able to take in his whole face. She only saw him last night, but it feels like far longer. "You need me to talk you out of it?"

"No," he says, decisive but soft. Grateful, even, that she asked. "Just wanted to let you know."

"Is it something dangerous?"

"Maybe," he says slowly, unsure whether to give her the whole truth. Which, in Leah's book, means that yes, it is. Dangerous enough that he had the forethought to check in with her first in case something goes a little bit — or a lot — wrong.

She nods, pouting slightly as she pretends to weigh her options.

Then—

"Okay," she says after a moment with a tiny shrug. "Sounds fun. When are we leaving?"

Jacob's sunny grin appears so fast that it threatens to split his face right in two. Leah repays it in kind without a thought.

"I was hoping you were going to say that." He jerks his head, beckoning her to join him in his apparent recklessness, buoyed by her quick answer. "Hop on."

There's not a single second of hesitation before she twists out of his hold and leaps onto the back of the polished motorbike. She throws both her hair over her shoulder and a look at her little brother that she hopes appears somewhat remorseful, despite the fact that she feels nothing of the sort.

"Sorry, kid. Duty calls." She knows she doesn't sound it either, unable to stop beaming in spite of the very real possibility that she is about to head to her death. She can never be certain, hanging around the Pack.

That, and she has never been on the back of Jake's motorbike before. Hell, she's never been on the back of any motorbike before, and the reminder of this has her wrapping her arms soundly around Jake's waist. Her dad would kill her. Her mom probably will, when Seth spills the beans.

"What do you mean, duty — wait, no, hey, that's not fair!" he protests loudly, but his voice is drowned out by the sound of the engine being revved.

"Tell Mom I'll be late!" she calls over her shoulder as Jacob peels out of the lot and down the lane at a less than legal speed limit, the wheels of the bike kicking up dirt and dust as they go.

It's not until they reach the Welcome to Forks sign that Leah realises she has forgotten to warn Jake there is absolutely no way she can be allowed to die before she sits her finals.

She shouts this much to him over the roaring winds sailing past their ears, the bike racing down Highway 101 at stomach-churning speeds underneath them, but he only tips his head back to laugh at her.

She screams at him to keep his eyes on the road, then — he can kill her after she graduates — but he only laughs harder, practically euphoric.

Left with no choice but to press her face between his shoulder blades and squeezes her eyes shut, Leah wishes and waits for it to be over already. Her poor old dad was never prone to grounding her, always preferring to let her mom play bad cop, but even he would have put her on house arrest for the rest of her life if he knew she was speeding down a highway without so much as a helmet on, let alone for actually getting on a motorbike.

Eventually, she feels the bike start to slow underneath her, and she lifts her head to find them turning into the parking lot of Forks High.

Of course.

She had thought he might be up to something like this — especially after their conversation yesterday. And now Jacob, in all of his worldly wisdom, apparently believes that it's a perfect opportunity to check Charlie is telling the truth.

To check that Bella is still human.

And to do something maybe-dangerous. Something that he thinks she's not going to like.

Jacob parks illegally on the sidewalk, bike askew the pavement cracks, and he makes a big show of kicking down the stand and cutting the engine before leaping off the bike in one fluid movement. Just because he can.

"Show off," Leah mutters, stretching one foot to the ground to cautiously test her balance before she dismounts. Her legs are like jelly.

He just laughs at her again, louder than before, and reaches out for her. He tips her head back, his warm hands on either side of her cheeks, and his infectious happiness is the last thing she sees before his mouth slants over hers, staking his claim in front of the student body who are making their way home.

Just because he can.

Leah never used to be one for such public displays of affection, but spending time with Jake and certain members of the Pack has meant that she's had to have a crash course. The wolves are always touching — hugging, roughhousing, leaning on each other, as if the physical contact is another one of their silent languages she cannot hear. As if touching is as essential for them to live as it is to breathe.

It's no different between her and Jacob. She cannot remember a single day in the last month where she has gone without being hugged or kissed or held, each day bookended by the most casual of affections.

So she gives into it; into him. She did a long time ago. She pulls on his shirt, anywhere she can reach, tugging him down to her level until his arms around her back are the only thing stopping her from falling backwards off the seat. She's distantly aware of someone whistling and jeering in their direction, but she's far too preoccupied to pay them any attention.

When Jacob finally breaks away, minutes or hours later, his grin is brighter than the afternoon sun. She feels a little giddy, high and breathless and dizzy with it. Maybe she's more like Kim than she thought, damn her.

"What was that for?"

He peppers kisses over her cheeks, feather-light but equally disarming. "Do I need a reason?"

"You're making a point, aren't you?" she asks archly, trying her hardest to retain at least some decorum instead of letting the giggle in her throat break free. Still, her hand can't stop its way from finding the back of his neck and holding him in place.

"Maybe. Or maybe because you're sitting on a motorbike — my bike," he says. "You have no idea how unbelievably hot that is."

She scoffs at him, although she feels another degree of heat find its way into her already flaming cheeks and thinks that maybe . . . maybe she can learn to like the damn bike after all. She'd been stupid to think that he'd not realised it's the first time she's ridden it, because of course he has. It was probably the first thing he thought of.

"You are such a boy."

"And you are beautiful," he replies without missing a beat. "I'm debating whether or not I should do that again just so these hokwats know who you belong to. You know, just in case they work up the nerve to try and steal you."

Leah recovers just enough to level one of her infamous looks at him; the sort of look she's perfected from years of hawkish displeasure. "I wasn't aware that I belonged to anybody," she retorts, hoping to high heaven that she looks more unimpressed about this than she secretly feels. She has her pride to save — especially in front of any onlookers.

Jacob puts on a frown, a mixture of thoughtfulness and feigned concern on his sharply defined features. "I should fix that," he says, and he swoops down to meet her mouth again.

"Did you know this is only the second time we've been off the Rez together since you decided that I belong to you?" she asks when he eventually releases her, their faces flushed and lips slightly swollen. Despite the cool weather, she is much too warm underneath her parka.

He beams down at her as he leans against the bike, studiously ignoring the high schoolers who by now are most definitely gawking in their direction. "I could think of nicer things to do for a second date."

"Instead you've brought me to hell on Earth. I am so lucky," she says dryly. "I'd ask what we're about to do, but I'm not all too sure I want to know in case I get locked up for aiding and abetting. Or affray, perhaps."

"We," he says, with dramatics to rival hers, "are here to deliver a warning."

"I thought you just wanted to check Bella was still human," she admits.

"That too. But Sam wants to issue them a formal warning for the other night, and he decided to send me."

Leah snorts. "You mean you volunteered, and he agreed."

"Well — yeah." Jacob avoids her eyes and runs a hand through his already wayward hair, looking like a kid who knows he's been caught doing something he knows he shouldn't be. "But I'm still a better option than Paul, so there's that."

"Paul offered too? I find that hard to believe."

"He thinks he's owed after the weekend," Jake says, and she shrugs as if to say, Fair enough. She can't really blame the guy for it; she still owes Edward one, too, after their last encounter. It's the only reason aside from being the only person who will be able to rein in Jake's inevitable temper that she's not asked him to take her home yet.

"We're all owed," she says, and she feels the hint of an inadvertent scowl beginning to form. "Maybe you should've brought Paul along, too."

"After what happened the last time he and Bella were within three feet of each other? No way, honey. He'd lose his head for sure."

"What happened?"

Jake clears his throat. "He, uh . . . He phased. Might've tried to kill Bella. Maybe."

Leah lifts her brow, silently prodding for more of that particular story.

"I forget the details," he says, waving his hand dismissively, and she emits another snort with a shake of her head in reply.

"It doesn't matter," he continues blithely. "Point is, after he tried to kill that big leech, Sam's not exactly confident that he won't try and do the same to Cullen. He's the one we need to talk to."

"Right. And killing him would be bad because . . . ?"

Jacob's chuckle is deep, and she feels herself warming under his gaze as he says, "Not even Paul could talk his way out of a murder charge, honey. Not with the whole of Forks High School as witnesses."

"So I'll give him an alibi," she replies seriously. "I don't even know what the point of having a treaty with them is if they're just going to break it and get away with it."

"The treaty protects human life," he replies, speaking as seriously as if he were reciting the Pledge of Allegiance.

"Forgive me. Of course, it doesn't have anything to do with protecting their lives." She theatrically throws her hand up to her head. "How silly of me. Because they're not afraid of you at all, are they? Like, seriously — a warning is all they get? They're going to do this again, but worse. You do know that, right? What's going to happen when they really piss all over it? A tap on the nose?"

Jacob smiles as she rants, but she has a feeling it's to indulge her more than anything else. He knows what her real worries are; he knows her better than anyone else in the world.

"I won't do this if you ask me not to," he tells her. "We can go — right now."

"I would never ask that of you," she says without hesitation. "Besides, I thought we were more of a 'seek forgiveness, not permission' kind of couple."

Jacob's face splits into a grin, as it does whenever she makes some cheesy self-referential comment like this. Words like relationship and dating; like girlfriend and boyfriend seem to buoy him, and she suspects it's because there's a silent suggestion of choice behind them. She quickly learned weeks ago that he needs to be reminded of stuff like that sometimes.

"We are that couple," he agrees. "But you can still ask."

"If I did, would you take us home?" she questions, and his responding silence makes her shake her head as she chuckles softly to herself. "I didn't think so. I just don't understand why you want to do this, that's all."

"You could probably order me to leave instead," he says thoughtfully, as if he's not heard her speak. "That might work."

Her answering snort is as mocking as she intends. "Whatever. Just . . . don't lose your temper, okay? Because I don't have an alibi for what happens after that."

Jacob is far too pleased with himself to show any sign of worry. "I'm sure you'll stop me if it gets out of hand. That's why you're here, right? My protector."

"What about when Bella tries to scratch my eyes out when she realises I've seduced her only friend?"

He laughs as he smooths down her windswept hair that has escaped from its ponytail. "Then I'll stop you if it gets too out of hand."

Leah grins up at him, sweet and innocent. He knows her too well. "I'd only be defending myself."

"Still, I think Charlie would be really upset if he had to arrest you for assaulting his kid."

"He'd let me off," she says confidently, folding her arms, and another laugh escapes from Jake, booming across the parking lot as if he just can't help himself.

They don't have to wait too much longer before Jacob senses something, his nose wrinkling, and he immediately inches himself closer towards where she is still sitting upon the bike. The happy and carefree expression on his face disappears, as if it had never been there at all.

Leah glances at the crowd of pale faces who are giving them an obvious wide berth, her eyes searching for a familiar slab of glimmering marble, and she wonders why exactly Jake and Sam thought doing this in front of witnesses was a good idea. She remembers what happened the last time she was near a vampire — near Edward — and how Embry and Quil had reacted; Quil's primal defence is quick to spring to mind. Her two friends had been as quick to defend and protect her as they were to anger — and they hadn't even imprinted on her.

"No fighting," she murmurs, just audibly enough for Jacob's keen ears to hear.

His arms tightening is the only response he gives before he turns unnaturally still, his muscled arms straining against his black tee, his face a mask of deceptive calm. Leah's not even sure that he's breathing.

The wide berth the passing crowd have been giving them noticeably widens, although their eyes rarely linger on Jacob long for more than a second. When they catch Leah's gaze, however, she holds their eyes until they turn away again, cowed. The look on her face is not welcoming, not pleasant. It's not as frightening as Jacob's, but unnerving all the same, if their reactions are to be considered.

Good. Serves them right for gawking.

By the time she's stared down each and every one of them, she notices Edward and Bella hand-in-hand, making a beeline straight towards the bike. He looks murderous; she looks . . . whatever it is, Leah can't tell — only that whatever emotion is on the girl's face has something to do with seeing Jacob, staring at him as openly as she is.

The intensely fierce and possessive side of the imprint grabs Leah in a chokehold, and she follows Jacob into that chilling calm.

The whispers of the student body seem to get louder as Edward and Bella approach. Some kids even hang back, hardly subtle about their excitement for a confrontation, and they gather in threes, fours, fives around their cars and their push bikes. Watching. Waiting.

Leah thinks they are holding their breath, too, when Edward finally comes to a stop a couple of feet in front of her and Jacob. He angles Bella behind him, safely concealed, his stone face as impassive as Jacob's.

"You could have called us," he says, his voice laced with barely controlled fury that threatens to splinter the air around them.

"Sorry," Jacob bites back, just as hard and equally irate. His arms flex across his chest. "We don't have any leeches on our speed dial."

"You could have reached me at Bella's house, of course."

"Who would we have asked Charlie for?" Leah butts in, her mouth leaping before her brain. "What was it he called you yesterday . . . Edwin, I think?"

The vampire cuts a glare in her direction, his eyes darkening when she swings her leg over the bike and stands to her full height, lifting her chin and glaring just as fiercely.

"This is hardly the place," he says tightly, undoubtedly thinking back to their last meeting. It's all she's thinking about, and she owes him for using his abominable abilities against her. "Could we discuss this later?"

"Sure, sure. We'll stop by your crypt after school," Jacob says, sniggering at his own joke, and Leah has to bite back a groan. "What's wrong with now?"

Edward's eyes flit to the growing crowd around them on the sidewalk, and Bella anxiously follows his line of sight — as if they're both waiting to be caught; almost as if they expect for their secrets to be laid out like dominoes in the Forks High parking lot.

The leech lowers his voice. "I already know what you came to say. Message delivered."

Bella finally finds her voice. "Warned?" she asks, trying to step around her leech and face them fully. A colourless hand is still restraining her, and so she has to lean forward, head swivelling between Jacob and her leech. "What are you talking about?"

"You didn't tell her?" Jacob asks, eyes like saucers. "What, were you afraid she'd take our side?"

"Or afraid she'd realise his perfect family are using ours as bait," Leah mutters underneath her breath, although she knows both Jacob and Edward hear her as well as they would have if she'd spoken clearly.

Edward's growl is like low, distant rolling thunder. "My family are as committed to finding Victoria as you are."

"Yeah, at the expense of mine," Leah snaps back hotly, stepping forward.

Jake puts a gentle hand on her elbow to stop her from tearing into Cullen using nothing but her mortal strength. She doesn't shake him off, and he doesn't pull her back. He knows. He understands.

"I'd advise you to stop — before you say something you will truly regret. There are people listening," Edward warns quietly, forcing his voice into even tones despite his evident desire to rip both her and Jacob apart.

Jacob's chest rumbles with the insult, taking deep offence to the veiled threat, whilst Leah simply smirks, taunting Cullen. Daring him. She may not be a wolf, may not have their strength, but she is not afraid.

With Jacob flanking her, she feels no terror.

(Jacob)

Forget battle — Jacob is ready to wage war with the way Cullen is eyeing Leah. The bloodsucker has no reason to hate her as much as she hates him — as much as Jacob hates him — but Edward holds her expression with evident distaste, undoubtedly rooting through her head.

Her own glare is reflected in his, and Jacob wonders what it is she is silently screaming at Cullen, what she is yelling at him that nobody else can hear. Jacob swears that he sees the bloodsucker's eye twitch, a dead muscle in his jaw ticking with effort to keep himself from snarling back at her.

Jake's never seen anyone get a rise out of Bella's leech like that before — not like he seems to, anyway. He's proud of her, but that doesn't stop him from growling under his breath in warning.

Edward is the first to look away. He winds his arm around Bella, urging her on, and Jacob feels Leah's triumph as if it is his own.

"Come on. Let's get you back to Charlie's."

Charlie's. As if her home is now elsewhere, and not with the father who will grieve her when she dies.

With Leah's blood boiling still underneath his touch, his own heart pounding the same wild rhythm, Jacob's other hand flies out, blocking the vampire from going anywhere.

"No, hang on. We're not finished here."

"Drop it, Jacob. Both of you. Consider us warned, and allow us to be on our way."

"Why?" Jacob challenges, his hand an inch from the bloodsucker's chest. It gives him untold satisfaction that he stands nearly a whole head taller than his enemy, that he has this advantage over him. "You clearly haven't told her, and she deserves to know why you whisked her away."

"What don't I know?" Bella demands. "Edward?"

"Your stalker came back," says Leah, and to her credit she doesn't flinch when Edward's head snaps in her direction, his teeth bared, or when Jacob's hand trails up from her elbow to her shoulder, ready to yank her back. "She came back, and his . . . family broke the treaty. Twice, as far as I'm concerned—"

"Once," Edward hisses. "There is nothing that states using our abilities will be considered as an infraction."

"There should be," Leah shoots back, standing tall and proud. "You've no right to be pilfering through our heads or changing our emotions, let alone crossing into territory that doesn't belong to you!"

"It was no-man's land!" Edward argues.

"Except you weren't there, were you? You don't know."

"And you do? You're just an—"

"They're my family! Don't talk to me about what I do or don't know when you have no idea what that word means!"

So heated are they in their exchange that even Edward barely notices Bella on the verge of a panic attack, and it's only when Jacob thinks that she's about to fall to her feet that the bloodsucker snaps out of it. He holds her, petting her like a wounded, frightened animal. The voice he uses to speak to her is no different.

"She came back for me," Bella says through quick, gasping breaths, hand on her chest. Better than an arm around her waist, holding herself together, Jacob thinks. "She came back for me, and you made me use those tickets—"

"It's fine. I'll never let her get close to you, it's fine," Edward whispers, stroking her face.

The whole thing makes Jacob sick, and he turns his head away from the scene in his disgust. It almost startles him when he sees the crowd of students and remembers where they all are, and he vaguely wonders what this looks like to them. There are too many whispers coming from them to be able to pick their words out, almost like the buzzing in his head when the Pack are all together and talking over one another.

Leah reaches up to place her hands over his that are resting upon her shoulders still, soothing him as much as she seeks the same comfort herself. She follows his line of sight, and Jacob doesn't think it's his imagination when fifty pairs of eyes immediately look away again. Leah is her own force of nature.

"Does this answer your question?" Edward demands.

Their heads snap back around from the school body at the same time, but it is Leah who is the first to say, "It's her life."

"Why should she be frightened when she was never in danger?"

"I'd wager she'd rather be frightened than lied to. Maybe she wouldn't react like this if you'd told her what was really going on, but I'm guessing you really don't tell her anything, do you?" she asks scornfully. "You'd just rather smother her and let her keep you on that pedestal she's got you on. Heaven forbid she sees you for what you really are."

"There's a difference between hurting her and protecting her," Edward mutters, his entire attention still upon Bella as he continues to wipe her tears away, but it sounds like he's convincing himself more than anyone else.

"Your idea of protection is probably going to get her killed," Leah replies, turning away, "but what do I care? Come on, Jake."

"No, wait, I want to know," Bella mumbles, pulling away from her bloodsucker. She sniffs. "Edward, she's right. You don't have to keep things from me, and if Jacob's told her—"

"Hush, love, she's only trying to rile you. Just because Jacob's involved her in this doesn't mean he should extend you or the whole parking lot the same courtesy," Edward says, his melodic tones gentle and soothing, calming.

No. Not calming, Jacob thinks. Controlling. Controlling both Bella and the situation.

"Involved her . . . ?" Bella blinks and looks at Leah, practically gawking. "You're not part of the . . ." Her eyes dart sideways, gauging the distance between them and the ever-growing number of spectators. She drops her voice. ". . . part of the you-know-what?"

"She is," Jacob says automatically, an edge to the single word that he is powerless to stop flying out of his mouth.

"Oh."

This is the moment, Jacob thinks. This is the moment Bella finds out, and he doesn't care. He doesn't care why this needs to be kept a secret, because he still doesn't understand what is wrong with his former best friend knowing that Leah is his, and he is hers, and—

"Leave now," Edward tells them sharply before Jacob can so much as draw breath to say the words. He sounds more like a vampire and the boy he pretends to be; his true face exposed, and for the first time Jacob is permitted to see that the leech loathes him as much as he is loathed in return. For the first time, he looks like Jacob's true mortal enemy.

"No," Bella protests. "Stop it! I want him to tell me. And if he won't, then Leah—"

"He doesn't have the right, Bella. Neither of them do."

Jacob snorts his derision at the same time Leah does, and he feels another spark of pride about it as he winds his arm around her shoulders and begins to lead her back to the bike.

"Bella's a lot tougher than you think," he says as a parting gift to the bloodsucker. "Try it. You might be surprised."

The crowd around them begin to disperse disappointedly almost at the same time, seeing that there's no longer a chance of a fight. Or maybe that's because of the suited teacher who is barrelling down the concrete steps and heading their way, breaking up the groups as he goes, threatening detention to anyone who is caught lingering on school property after hours without authorisation.

"Come on, love," Edward says. "Let's get you back to Charlie's so the principal doesn't think you're involved."

"Overprotective, isn't he?" Jacob calls over his shoulder. "A little trouble makes life fun. But let me guess, you're not allowed to have fun, are you?"

"Shut up, Jake," Bella mumbles, cheeks colouring with mild irritation.

"That sounds like a no," Jacob laughs, pulling Leah closer. He knows that Bella can never be mad with him for long. He can only hope that she'll see reason and give her bloodsucker a good lecture on what is accepted now rather than six hundred years ago, or whenever Edward was born. Shit, Jacob would be pleased if Bella just gave herself a chance to just think on her own.

Leah hops back onto the bike first, and Jacob tucks a finger under her chin. And when she looks up at him, her eyes alight and smug satisfaction on her beautiful face, it takes most of the control he's learned in recent months to not descend on her mouth again and devour her.

"You," he says, kissing her on the cheek instead, "—are amazing. Thank you."

"Yeah, yeah." She flicks her ponytail over her shoulder, but he sees the undeniably pleased look of hers before he swings a leg over and settles in front of her. "Just get me out of here."

"You got it."

Jacob throws one last glance back at Bella as he kicks the engine to a start, and he thinks that she seems kind of . . . stunned, and he guesses maybe that it's because he's hit home: maybe she's remembering a time without Edward, with him, but her eyes flicker to Leah in confusion.

Confusion, then dawning realisation.

Jacob simply grins at her before he turns the bike around and races out of sight, tyres squealing behind him.

A/N: First and foremost, please send all your love to Hyacinthed, who didn't so much as blink when I threw myself on her online doorstep begging for a beta reader at stupid o'clock in the morning, and who — believe it or not — regularly indulges my Blackwater heart without having to be held under duress.

You know those chapters that you agonise over for ages and, in the end, just have to close your eyes and press 'post' (because if you carry on working on it you'll go insane/ruin it/cry/never finish the whole story/all of the above)? This is one of those. Sorry it took so long!

Disclaimer: Some use of direct line lifts from Eclipse ahead (Twilight and its inclusive material is copyright to Meyer, yadda yadda yah), but I hope the variation is enough that there is a different feel to the chapter for it to still be considered AU/original whilst sticking to major scenes/plot points. Fingers crossed.