My eyes flew wide open with fright, though I was so exhausted and muddled that I was not yet positive whether I was awake or asleep.

Something scratched against my window again with the same thin, high-pitched sound.

Confused and clumsy with sleep, I stumbled out of my bed and to the window, blinking the lingering tears from my eyes on the way.

A huge, dark shape wobbled erratically on the other side of the glass, lurching toward me like it was going to smash right through. I staggered back, terrified.

Victoria.

She'd come for me.

I was dead.

Not Charlie, too!

I choked back my building panic. I would have to keep quiet through this. Somehow. I had to keep Charlie from coming to investigate…

And then a familiar, husky voice called from the dark shape.

Bella!" it hissed. "Ouch! Damn it, open the window! OUCH!"

I needed two seconds to shake off the horror before I could move, but then I hurried to the window and shoved the glass out of the way. The clouds were dimly lit from behind, enough for me to make sense of the shapes.

"What are youdoing?" I gasped.

Julie was clinging precariously to the top of the spruce that grew in the middle of the little front yard. Her weight had bowed the tree toward the house and she now swung—her legs dangling twenty feet above the ground—not a yard away from me. The thin branches at the tip of the tree scraped against the side of the house again with a grating squeal.

"I'm trying to keep"—she huffed, shifting her weight as the treetop bounced Her—"my promise!"

I blinked my wet blurry eyes, suddenly sure that I was dreaming.

"When did you ever promise to kill yourself falling out of Charlie's tree?"

She snorted, unamused, swinging her legs to improve her balance. "Get out of the way," she ordered.

"What?"

She swung her legs again, backwards and forward, increasing her momentum. I snapped out of my sleepy fog when I realized what she was trying to do.

"No, Julie!"

But I ducked to the side, because it was too late. With a grunt she launched herself toward my open window.

I felt a cry of horror build in my throat as I waited for her to fall to her death—or at least maim herself against the wooden siding. To my shock, she swung agilely into my room, landing on the balls of her feet with a low thud.

We both looked to the door automatically, holding our breath, waiting to see if the noise had woken Charlie. A short moment of silence passed, and then we heard the muffled sound of Charlie's snore.

A wide grin spread slowly across Julie's face; she seemed extremely pleased with herself. It wasn't the grin that I knew and loved—it was a new grin, one that was a bitter mockery of her old sincerity, on the new face that belonged to Sam.

That was a bit much for me.

I'd cried myself to sleep over this girl. Her harsh rejection had fractured my heart all over again. She'd left a new nightmare behind her—the insult after the injury. And now she was here in my room, smirking at me as if none of that had passed. Furthermore, even though her arrival had been noisy and awkward, it reminded me of when Edyth used to sneak in through my window at night, and the reminder caused the fractures to throb anew.

All of this, coupled with the fact that I was dog-tired, did not put me in a friendly mood.

"Get out!" I hissed.

She blinked, her face going blank with surprise.

"No," she protested. "I came to apologize."

"I don't accept."

I considered shoving her out the open window, but decided that was a little dramatic. She took a step toward me and I held my hands out, stopping her movement with my palms on her chest.

She wasn't wearing a shirt Just a tanktop, though the air blowing in the window was cold enough to make me shiver, and my hands burned on her covered chest. Her skin was burning hot, like her head had been the last time I'd touched her. Like she was still sick with the fever.

She didn't look sick. She looked huge. She leaned over me, so big that she blacked out the window, tongue-tied by my furious reaction.

Suddenly I became hyper-aware of the fact that Julie Black was standing in nothing but a short tanktop in my bedroom and I was standing in front of her in my underwear. My body stiffened up and I lurched back from her.

"Bella?" Julie whispered anxiously. She reached out and caught my elbow.

"Turn around!" I hissed.

"Huh?" She looked me up and down and then promptly blushed redder than I'd ever seen before. She spun around quickly.

I scrambled to find clothes to put on without stepping back in her line of vision, I found my pajama pants and a tank top crumpled under my bed.

I turned back to Julie who looked like she was making a concentrated effort not to turn to look at me. I cleared my throat and she tentatively turned around.

I sighed and plopped into a heap on the mattress.

"Hey… are you okay? Julie asked hesitantly, worry creasing her forehead.

I looked up at her, I felt the tears still wet on my cheeks. "Why in the world would I be okay, Julie?"

Anguish replaced some of the bitterness in her face. "Right," she agreed, and took a deep breath. "Crap. Well… I—I'm so sorry, Bella." The apology was sincere, no doubt about it, though there was still an angry twist to her features.And i was still really pissed at her.

"Why did you come here? I don't want apologies from you, Julie you made your damn bed sleep in it i growled out at her."

"I know," she whispered. "But I couldn't leave things the way I did this afternoon. That was horrible. I'm sorry."

I shook my head wearily. "I don't understand anything."

"I know. I want to explain—" She broke off suddenly, her mouth open, almost like something had cut off her air. Then she sucked in a deep breath. "But I can't explain," she said, still angry. "I wish I could."

I let my head fall into my hands. My question came out muffled by my arm. "Why?"

She was quiet for a moment. I twisted my head to the side to see her expression. It surprised me. Her eyes were squinted, her teeth clenched, her forehead wrinkled in effort.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

She exhaled heavily, and I realized she'd been holding her breath, too. "I can't do it," she muttered, frustrated.

"Do what?"

She ignored my question. "Look, Bella, haven't you ever had a secret that you couldn't tell anyone?"

She looked at me with knowing eyes, and my thoughts jumped immediately to the Cullens. I imagined my expression looked vaguely guilty.

"Something you felt like you had to keep from Charlie, from your mom…?" she pressed. "Something you won't even talk about with me? Not even now?"

I felt my eyes tighten. I didn't answer her question, though I knew she would take that as rightful confirmation.

"Can you understand that I might have the same kind of… situation?" She was struggling again, seeming to fight for the right words. "Sometimes, loyalty gets in the way of what you want to do. Sometimes, it's not your secret to tell.

So, I couldn't argue with that. She was exactly right—I had a secret that wasn't mine to tell, yet a secret I felt bound to protect. A secret that, suddenly, she seemed to know all about.

I still didn't see how it applied to her, or Sam, or Billy. What was it to them, now that the Cullens were gone?

"I don't know why you came here, Jules, if you were just going to give me riddles instead of answers.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "This is so frustrating."

We looked at each other for a long moment in the dark room, both our faces hopeless.

"The part that kills me," she said abruptly, "is that you already know. I already told you everything!"

"What are you talking about?"

She sucked in a startled breath, and then leaned toward me, her face shifting from hopelessness to blazing intensity in a second. She stared fiercely into my eyes, and her voice was fast and eager. She spoke the words right into my face; her breath was hot as her skin.

"I think I see a way to make this work out—because you know this, Bella! I can't tell you, but if you guessed it! That would let me right off the hook!"

"You want me to guess? Guess what?"

"My secret! You can do it—you know the answer!"

I blinked twice, trying to clear my head. I was so tired. Nothing she said made sense.

She took in my blank expression, and then her face tensed with effort again. "Hold on, let me see if I give you some help," she said.

Whatever she was trying to do, it was so hard she was panting.

"Help?" I asked, trying to keep up. I felt sorry for her, she looked like she was struggling so hard. I tentatively reached out my hand and grazed her muscular forearm with my fingertips.

"Help," she repeated, breathing hard. "Like clues."

She took my face in her enormous, too-warm hands and held it just a few inches from hers. She stared into my eyes while she whispered, as if to communicate something besides the words she spoke.

"Remember the first day we met—on the beach in La Push?"

"Of course I do."

"Tell me about it."

I took a deep breath and tried to concentrate. "You asked about my truck…"

She nodded, urging me on.

"We talked about the Rabbit…"

"Keep going."

"We went for a walk down the beach…" My cheeks were growing warm under her palms as I remembered, but she wouldn't notice, hot as her skin was. We'd gone for a walk and, if I was being honest with myself, I had flirted a little bit with her. Before Edyth, before the Cullens, I had met Julie Black and if Edyth Cullen had never walked into my life, maybe things would have progressed much differently from that walk on the beach.

She was nodding, anxious for more. It pulled me from my wistful thoughts.

My voice was nearly soundless. "You told me scary stories… Quileute legends."

She closed her eyes and opened them again. "Yes." The word was tense, fervent, like she was on the edge of something vital. She spoke slowly, making each word distinct. "Do you remember what I said?"

Even in the dark, she must be able to see the expression—the color of my face. How could I forget that? Without realizing what she was doing, Julie had confirmed to me exactly what I had been wondering, what I had been suspecting—that Edyth was a vampire.

She looked at me with eyes that knew too much. "Think hard," she told me.

"Yes, I remember," I breathed.

She inhaled deeply, struggling. "Do you remember all the stor—" She couldn't finish the question. Her mouth popped open like something had stuck in her throat.

"All the stories?" I asked.

She nodded mutely.

My head churned. Only the one story had stuck. I knew she'd begun with others, but I couldn't remember them, especially not while my brain was so clouded with exhaustion. I started to shake my head.

Julie groaned and jumped off the bed. She pressed her fists against her forehead and breathed fast and angry. "You know this, you know this," she muttered to herself.

"Jules? Jules, please, I'm sorry but I'm exhausted. I'm just not able to think right now. Maybe in the morning…"

She took a steadying breath and nodded. "Maybe it will come back to you. I guess I understand why you only remember the one story," she added in a sarcastic, bitter tone. She plunked back onto the mattress beside me. "Do you mind if I ask you a question about that?" she asked, still sarcastic. "I've been dying to know."

"A question about what?" I asked warily.

"About the vampire story I told you."

I stared at her with guarded eyes, unable to answer. She asked her question anyway.

"Did you honestly not know?" she asked me, her voice turning husky. "Was I the one who told you what she was?"

How did she know this?Why did she decide to believe, why now? My teeth clenched together. I sighed. I couldn't lie to Julie, not anymore. "Yes." I sighed.

"See what I mean about loyalty?" she murmured, even huskier now. "It's the same for me, only worse. You can't imagine how tight I'm bound…"

I didn't like that—didn't like the way her eyes closed as if she were in pain when she spoke of being bound. More than dislike—I realized I hated it, hated anything that caused her pain. Hated it fiercely.

For me, this was all essentially voluntary. I protected the Cullens' secret out of love; misplaced and unrequited, but still love. For Julie, it didn't seem to be that way.

"Isn't there any way for you to get free?" I whispered, touching the rough edge at the back of her shorn hair.

Her hands began to tremble, but she didn't open her eyes. "No. I'm in this for life. A life sentence." A bleak laugh. "Longer, maybe."

"No, Jules," I stood up and stepped in front of her, putting my hands on her warm face. She sadly lifted her eyes to meet mine. "What if we ran away? Just you and me." I gently ran my hands through her short hair. "What if we left home, and left all this behind?"

"You would do that?" She asked, her voice husky and sad.

"I would do it for you." I said, and my hand gently stroked her cheek.

"It's not something I can run away from, Bella," she whispered. "But I would run with you, though, if I could." Her shoulders were shaking now, too. She took a deep breath. "Look, I've got to leave."

"Why?"

"You need your sleep—I need you firing on all pistons. You're going to figure this out, you have to."

"Okay, Jules." I sighed. "Why else?"

She frowned. "I had to sneak out—I'm not supposed to see you. They've got to be wondering where I am." Her mouth twisted. "I suppose I should go let them know."

"You don't have to tell them anything," I retorted.

"All the same, I will."

The anger and frustration flashed hot inside me. "I hate them." I said bitterly.

Julie looked at me with wide eyes, surprised. "No, Bella. Don't hate the guys. It's not Sam's or any of the other's faults. I told you before—it's me. Sam is actually… well, incredibly cool. Jared and Paul are great, too, though Paul is kind of… And Embry's always been my friend. Nothing's changed there—the only thing that hasn't changed. I feel really bad about the things I used to think about Sam…."

Sam was incredibly cool? I glared at her in disbelief, but I let it go.

"Then why aren't you supposed to see me?" I demanded.

"It's not safe," she mumbled, looking down.

Her words sent a thrill of fear through me.

Did she know that, too? Nobody knew that besides me. But she was right—it was the middle of the night, the perfect time for hunting. Julie shouldn't be here in my room. If someone came for me, I had to be alone.

"If I thought it was too… too risky," she whispered, "I wouldn't have come. But Bella," she looked at me again, "I made you a promise. I had no idea it would be so hard to keep, but that doesn't mean I'm not going to try."

She saw the incomprehension in my face. "After that stupid movie," she reminded me. "I promised you that I wouldn't ever hurt you…. So I really blew it this afternoon, didn't I?"

"I know you didn't want to do it, Jules. It's okay."

Thanks, Bella." She took my hand. "I'm going to do what I can to be here for you, just like I promised." She grinned at me suddenly. The grin was closer to mine than it had been before. I felt a sense of relief at seeing my Julie again. "It would really help if you could figure this out on your own, Bella. Put some honest effort into it."

I took a deep breath. "I'll try, Jules."

"And I'll try to see you soon." She sighed. "And they'll try to talk me out of that."

"Don't listen to them."

"I'll try." She shook her head, as if she doubted her success. "Come and tell me as soon as you figure it out." Something occurred to her just then, something that made her hands shake. "If you… if you want to."

"Why wouldn't I want to see you?"

Her face turned hard and bitter, one hundred percent the face that belonged to Sam. "Oh, I can think of a reason," she said in a harsh tone. "Look, I really have to go. Could you do something for me?"

I just nodded, frightened of the change in her.

"At least call me—if you don't want to see me again. Let me know if it's like that."

"That won't happen—"

She raised one hand, cutting me off. "Just let me know."

She stood and headed for the window.

"Don't be an idiot, Jules," I complained. "You'll break your leg. Use the door. Charlie's not going to catch you."

"I won't get hurt," she muttered, but she turned for the door. She hesitated as she passed me, staring at me with an expression like something was stabbing her. She held one hand out, pleading.

I took her hand, and suddenly she pulled me towards her. I thudded against her chest.

"Just in case," she muttered against my hair. Squeezing me in a tight bear hug that about took my breath away.

"Jules—" I didn't know what to say, I felt like I was supposed to say something but no words came. I buried my face in her chest and sighed deeply.

After a moment, she loosened her arms, keeping one hand at my waist. She stared deeply into my eyes for a moment, but didn't say anything, either.

"I'll always want to see you, Julie." I finally said. My hand caressing her cheek. "No matter what."

"You have no idea how much I hope that's true." She said quietly. She gently set me down on my bed. "Get some sleep, Bella. You've got to get your head working. I know you can do this. I need you to understand. I won't lose you, Bella. Not for this."

She was to the door in one stride, opening it quietly, and then disappearing through it. I listened for her to hit the squeaky step in the stairs, but there was no sound.

I lay back on my bed, my head spinning. I was too confused, too worn out. I closed my eyes, trying to make sense of it, only to be swallowed up by unconsciousness so swiftly that it was disorienting. It was not the peaceful, dreamless sleep I'd yearned for—of course not. I was in the forest again, and I started to wander the way I always did.

I quickly became aware that this was not the same dream as usual. For one thing, I felt no compulsion to wander or to search; I was merely wandering out of habit, because that was what was usually expected of me here. Actually, this wasn't even the same forest. The smell was different, and the light, too. It smelled, not like the damp earth of the woods, but like the brine of the ocean. I couldn't see the sky; still, it seemed like the sun must be shining— the leaves above were bright jade green.

This was the forest around La Push— near the beach there, I was sure of it. I knew that if I found the beach, I would be able to see the sun, so I hurried forward, following the faint sound of waves in the distance.

And then Julie was there. She grabbed my hand, pulling me back toward the blackest part of the forest. "Julie, what's wrong?" I asked. Her face was the frightened face of a girl, and her hair was long again, swept back into a ponytail on the nape of her neck. She yanked with all her strength, but I resisted; I didn't want to go into the dark.

"Bella, Bella, you have to run!" she whispered, terrified.

The abrupt wave of déjà vu was so strong it nearly woke me up.

I knew why I recognized this place now. It was because I'd been here before, in another dream. A million years ago, part of a different life entirely. This was the dream I'd had the night after I'd walked with Julie on the beach, the first night I knew that Edyth was a vampire. Reliving that day with Julie must have dredged this dream out of my buried memories.

Detached from the dream now, I waited for it to play out. A light was coming toward me from the beach. In just a moment, Edyth would walk through the trees, her skin faintly glowing and her eyes black and dangerous. She would beckon to me, and smile. She would be beautiful as an angel, and her teeth would be pointed and sharp.…

But I was getting ahead of myself. Something else had to happen first.

Julie dropped my hand and yelped. Shaking and twitching, she fell to the ground at my feet.

"Julie!" I screamed, but she was gone.

In her place was an enormous, red-brown wolf with dark, intelligent eyes. The dream veered off course, like a train jumping the tracks. This was not the same wolf that I'd dreamed of in another life. This was the great russet wolf I'd stood half a foot from in the meadow, just a week ago. This wolf was gigantic, monstrous, bigger than a bear.

This wolf stared intently at me, trying to convey something vital with her intelligent eyes. The black-brown, familiar eyes of Julie Black.

I woke already hyperventilating.

My erratic breathing was punctured by pathetic whimpers and cries. I tensed my hands into fists, desperately trying to control my breathing. Trying to comprehend every implication of the connection I'd just made.

Eventually, I was able to calm down my breathing just enough.

I remembered it all now—every word that Julie had said to me that day on the beach, even the part before she got to the vampires, the "cold ones." Especially that first part.

"Do you know any of our tribe legends, about where we came from—the Quileutes, I mean?"

"Not really," I admitted.

"Well, the legends talk about Ka'wa'iti who created the first Quileutes by transforming wolves into humans. He taught them how to be human and become a powerful tribe."

"Wolves? That's actually really cool." I smiled. "Not really scary, though."

"Yeah," she smiled, "The scary story isn't actually a Quileute legend. It's more of a folk story some of the elders tell. Stories about the cold ones." Her voice dropped a little lower.

The cold ones?" I asked, deeply intrigued at this point.

"Yes. Some of the stories I hear are old stories, going back to the first Quileutes, and some are much more recent. If you believe the stories, my own great-grandfather knew some of them. He was the one who made the treaty that kept them off our land." She rolled her eyes.

"Your-great-grandfather?"

"He was a tribal elder, like my father. You see, the cold ones are the natural enemies of the wolf—well, not the wolf, really, but the wolves that turn into men, like our ancestors. You would call them werewolves."

"Werewolves have enemies?"

"Only one."

There was something stuck in my throat, choking me. I tried to swallow it down, but it was lodged there, unmoving. I tried to spit it out.

"Werewolf," I gasped.

Yes, that was the word I was choking on.

The whole world lurched, tilting the wrong way on its axis.

What kind of a place was this? Could a world really exist where ancient legends went wandering around the borders of tiny, sleepy towns, facing down mythical monsters? Did this mean that every impossible fairy tale was grounded somewhere in absolute truth? Was there anything sane or normal at all, or was everything just magic and ghost stories?

I clutched my head in my hands, trying to keep it from exploding.

A small, dry voice in the back of my mind asked me what the big deal was. Hadn't I already accepted the existence of vampires long ago—and without all the hysterics that time?

Exactly, I wanted to shout back at the voice. Wasn't one myth enough for anyone, enough for a lifetime?

Besides, there'd never been one moment that I wasn't completely aware that Edyth Cullen was above and beyond the ordinary. It wasn't such a surprise to find out what she was—because she was so obviously something.

But Julie? Julie, who was just Julie, and nothing more than that? Julie, my friend? Julie, the only human I'd ever…

And she wasn't even human.

I fought to keep my breathing steady.

What did this say about me?

I knew the answer to that one. It said there was something deeply wrong with me. Why else would my life be filled with characters from horror movies? Why else would I care so much about them that it would fracture my heart into little pieces when they went off along their mythical ways?

In my head, everything spun and shifted, rearranging so that things that had meant one thing before, now meant something else.

There was no cult. There had never been a cult, never been a gang. No, it was much worse than that. It was a pack.

A pack of five mind-blowingly gigantic, multihued werewolves that had stalked right past me in Edyth's meadow.…

Suddenly, I was in a frantic hurry. I glanced at the clock— it was way too early and I didn't care. I had to go to La Push now. I had to see Julie so she could tell me that I hadn't lost my mind altogether.

I pulled on the first clean clothes I could find, not bothering to be sure they matched, and took the stairs two at a time. I almost ran into Charlie as I skidded into the hallway, headed for the door.

"Where are you going?" he asked, as surprised to see me as I was to see him. "Do you know what time it is?"

"Yeah. I have to go see Julie."

"I thought the thing with Sam—"

"That doesn't matter, I have to talk to her right now."

"It's pretty early." He frowned when my expression didn't change. "Don't you want breakfast?"

"Not hungry." The words flew through my lips. He was blocking my path to the exit. I considered ducking around him and making a run for it, but I knew I would have to explain that to him later. "I'll be back soon, okay?"

Charlie frowned. "Straight to Julie's house, right? No stops on the way?"

"No, no, why would I stop?" My words were running together in my hurry.

"I don't know," he admitted. "It's just… well, there's been another attack—the wolves again. It was real close to the resort by the hot springs—there's a witness this time. The victim was only a dozen yards from the road when he disappeared. His wife saw a huge gray wolf just a few minutes later, while she was searching for him, and ran for help."

My stomach dropped like I'd hit a corkscrew on a roller coaster. "A wolf attacked him?"

"There's no sign of him—just a little blood again." Charlie's face was pained. "The rangers are going out armed, taking armed volunteers. There's a lot of hunters who are eager to be involved—there's a reward being offered for wolf carcasses. That's going to mean a lot of firepower out there in the forest, and it worries me." He shook his head. "When people get too excited, accidents happen."

"They're going to shoot the wolves?" My voice cracked terribly.

"What else can we do? What's wrong?" he asked, his tense eyes studying my face. I felt sick; I must be whiter than usual. "You aren't turning into a tree-hugger on me, are you?"

I couldn't answer. If he hadn't been watching me, I would have put my head between my knees. I'd forgotten about the missing hikers, the bloody paw prints… I hadn't connected those facts to my first realization.

"Look, kiddo, don't let this scare you. Just stay in town or on the highway—no stops—okay?"

"Okay," I repeated in a shaky voice.

"I've got to go."

I looked at him closely for the first time, and saw that he had his gun strapped to his waist and his hiking boots on.

"You aren't going out there after the wolves, are you, Dad?"

"I've got to help, Bella. People are diseappearing."

My voice was even shakier now. "No! No, don't go. It's too dangerous."

"I've got to do my job, kiddo. Don't be such a pessimist—I'll be fine." He turned for the door, and held it open. "You leaving?"

I hesitated, my stomach still spinning in uncomfortable loops. What could I say to stop him? I was too dizzy to think of a solution.

"Bella?"

"Maybe it's too early to go to La Push," I whispered.

"I agree," he said, and he stepped out into the rain, shutting the door behind him.

As soon as he was out of sight, I dropped to the floor and put my head between my knees.

Should I go after Charlie? What would I say?

And what about Julie? Julie was my best friend; I needed to warn her. If she really was a—a werewolf, then people would be shooting at her! I needed to tell her and her friends that people would try to kill them if they went running around like gigantic wolves. I needed to tell them to stop.

They had to stop. Charlie was out there in the woods. Would they care about that? I wondered… Up until now, only strangers had disappeared. Did that mean anything, or was it just chance?

I needed to believe that Julie, at least, would care about that.

Either way, I had to warn her.

Or… did I?

Julie was my best friend, and perhaps so much more, but was she a monster too? A real one? A bad one?Should I warn her, if she and her friends were… were murderers? If they were out slaughtering innocent hikers in cold blood? If they were truly creatures from a horror movie in every sense, would it be wrong to protect them?

It was inevitable that I would have to compare Julie and her friends to the Cullens. I feebly tried to keep my fractured heart from falling apart in my chest while I thought of them.

I didn't know anything about werewolves, clearly. I would have expected something closer to the movies—big hairy half-men creatures or something—if I'd expected anything at all. So I didn't know what made them hunt, whether hunger or thirst or just a desire to kill. It was hard to judge, not knowing that.

But could it be worse than what the Cullens endured in their quest to be good? I thought of Esme—my heart ached when I pictured her kind, lovely face—and how, as motherly and loving as she was, she'd had to hold her nose, all ashamed, and run away from me when I was bleeding. Could it be harder than that? I thought of Carlisle, the centuries upon centuries that he had struggled to teach himself to ignore blood, so that he could save lives as a doctor. Could it be harder than that?

And I realized I didn't know.

As much as the Cullens fought to be good, they could still fail. After all, isn't that why everything had changed? Maybe it wasn't as easy as I had initially thought.

Maybe the werewolves had chosen a different path.

Now, what should I choose?