A/N: And here's the next chapter. I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it! The next chapter's already done, too, so you'll only have to wait a week tops. I promise! Thanks for all the kind and motivating reviews I got, and thanks to those who added me or any of my stories to their Favorite Stories/Authors list after reading "Lifelines". Enjoy!

Disclaimer: The Twilight Saga is property of Stephenie Meyer. I'm only borrowing certain elements.

BELLA

As I drove to work I was feeling happier than I'd felt in years, than I'd felt even when I was still human. Alice was back. I hadn't realised how much I'd missed her until she was back, and now I didn't want to ever let her leave again, even if that meant allowing her to force me into a pile of designer clothes. I smiled at the thought and slightly shook my head. Alice would be Alice. She'd never change, but then I loved her the way she was. She'd be waiting for me when I got home from work, and I was looking forward to her company. I sighed a little, because I knew I'd have to tell her about Victoria tonight and I didn't want that. I didn't want Victoria to destroy that blissful happiness; she'd already destroyed so much. But I didn't have a choice. She had to be stopped, and alone I didn't stand a change.

I parked the car in the underground garage where Danielle was waiting for me again. As I inched the car into my assigned parking spot, she opened the door of her little VW and stepped out; her eyes curious. "Hi," she said as I climbed out of the Porsche and retrieved my bag from the backseat.

"Hi," I replied, smiling brightly. Danielle's eyes popped open; she rarely saw a genuine smile on my face. "I'm sorry I just disappeared. Lambert was getting on my nerves," I lied, rolling my eyes for emphasis, "so I decided that I wasn't feeling well."

Danielle smiled. "I thought as much. He's an ass."

We walked up the stairs together. I opened the heavy door for her, and she bobbed her head in thanks, blond hair swirling loosely around her head. Closer up, the makeup didn't do a very good job at covering the dark circles underneath her eyes, and I gathered she had slept about as much as I had. Not at all.

"You know what's kind of weird?" Danielle asked, padding down the hallway beside me. "That guy? You know the one with that tousled red hair?"

"What's with him?" I asked. Why on earth did Danielle have to ask about Edward?

"I think I met him at the store where I, um, bought your dress."

"Did you?" Had he tagged along when Alice all but ambushed Danielle, so she could buy all those clothes for me? I found it hard to believe that he would. You guys should talk, Alice had said, but I knew talking wouldn't accomplish anything. Edward didn't love me anymore. Talking to him wouldn't change that. It would only make it harder for me to get over him.

"Yeah." She frowned. "I didn't know he'd be at the gala. He was very handsome, wasn't he."

I decided not to answer. I unlocked the door to my office and went inside, dropping my bag beside the desk. Danielle hovered in the doorway, frowning as if she wanted to say something, but then shrugged and left. Her heels clicked on the floor as she walked down to her own office, and I sighed in relief.

She returned ten minutes later, hair up in a tight bun, frowning down at her BlackBerry. I was typing up the report of Antonia Swann's autopsy when she entered, so I wasn't in the best state of mind to begin with, but luckily Danielle only had good news for me. Well, the deceased were never good news, not for their relatives, but none of them appeared to have been killed by Victoria, which was a relief. In fact, only two bodies were on our agenda today, and by two in the afternoon we were finished, so I gave Danielle and myself the rest of the day off. Danielle was surprised, because she thought I was a workaholic—and she was right, but fact was that up until now I hadn't had anything to distract me from the pain in my chest but work—but glad that I seemed to have realised that life was more than just work.

It was snowing again, and I decided to walk downtown instead of driving. I didn't mind the snow; in fact, skipping along underneath the grey sky I felt like a child, happy and free. I never wanted this feeling to end.

Arriving home shortly after four, two hours before I usually got there, I found Alice sitting on the front steps, seven bulging plastic bags beside her. "I didn't have a key," she explained, deliberately misunderstanding the disbelieving look on my face, "and you didn't leave a window open."

Shaking my head, I sighed. "I didn't realise you bought to much." I retrieved the key to let us in, then grabbed two plastic bags and carried them inside while Alice followed with the rest. I'd been looking forward to her company, but I had not been looking forward to the upcoming fashion parade. I glanced into my study on the way to my bedroom. Mrs Morris had been happy to supervise as the delivery crew set up the furniture—she'd been dying to get a look inside my house ever since I moved here—and the white shelves looked good against the yellow walls. Alice had done a good job; I had to give her that.

"Now," Alice said as she emptied the first bag onto my bed, "I already sorted them. Here. Try this on first." She handed me a pair of artfully faded blue jeans, a white loose shirt with embroidery on the hem and a brown leather belt. Grumbling, I slipped out of my slacks and the blouse I'd donned this morning, also one that Alice had bought, and into the clothes she held out to me. They fit, and as I revolved slowly around myself in front of the mirror mounted onto the inside of my closet, I had to admit that they looked good on me too. Alice did have taste.

"Smile," Alice ordered, whipping out a tiny silver digital camera. "I promised Esme I'd take pictures."

I sighed.

Alice rolled her eyes. "Humour me, Bella."

I sighed again and plastered a big smile over my face. I smiled a lot that evening, and as the night progressed my smile became more and more strained. Alice pretended not to notice, and posing for her was more fun that I had believed possible, but after I'd put on the twenty-ninth outfit in a row I was beginning to regret that I'd given her card blanche the previous evening. To distract her, which didn't work out very well, I asked her about what her family—my family, too, now—had done in the past nine years. After they left Forks, they had moved to Ithaca. Carlisle had taught part time at Cornell and Jasper had tried his hand at philosophy which he'd found quite entertaining, while Alice had gone to Mississippi to make use of the information I'd accidentally retrieved when James had been after me.

"I had a sister," Alice told me as she zipped up the blue cocktail dress she'd forced me into. "Her name was Cynthia. Her daughter is still alive in Biloxi, and I thought about going there but I didn't. I don't remember any of them. It wouldn't have meant anything." After Ithaca they'd moved on to Richmond, Virginia, where they had all attended high school again. Edward hadn't been with them; at least, Alice never mentioned him, and I didn't ask how he'd spent his time. I had a pretty good idea, though. Going after one of his distraction, I assumed, just as he'd told me.

I tried not to feel bitter, but it wasn't easy. Alice picked up on my mood and began talking about Emmett and Rosalie, who were currently on vacation in Europe. They hadn't wanted to attend high school again, so they'd gone off to spend some time alone, but they'd return in a week. I wasn't looking forward to that encounter. I'd always liked Emmett, but Rosalie and I had never seen eye to eye, and I didn't believe even for a nanosecond that we would now that I was a vampire as well. Alice seemed to sense my apprehension. "Don't worry about Rosalie," she said, waving her hand dismissively as I opened my mouth to object. "She'll get used to it. You're our sister now. She'll have to accept that."

"I'm not so sure she will," I replied. I grimaced at my reflection in the mirror who didn't look like me at all in the evening gown I was wearing. Why I would need an evening gown was beyond me. I didn't plan on attending another gala anytime soon.

Alice shrugged. "I'm sure. Trust me. It might take a while, but she'll come around eventually."

"If you say so," I sighed.

Alice grinned. "I say so."

—

When morning broke and Alice left for school, I still hadn't told her about Victoria. "You're an idiot," I said to myself as I stepped into the shower and turned on the water. It was scalding hot. I didn't care. "I have to tell her," I said to my faint reflection in the glass. "Tonight when I get home from work I'll tell her."

I didn't make it until tonight.

When I got to work Danielle was waiting for me in front of my office. Her eyes were bloodshot, her fingers which were clutching her BlackBerry were trembling. I knew at once that Victoria must have killed another child, and Danielle's next words confirmed it. "Another kid came in," she whispered in a rough voice; she'd been crying. "Isobel Martinez. You have to see the connection, Doctor Swan."

"I'm sure it's just a coincidence," I replied, surprised at how calm my voice sounded. I couldn't afford to panic now; Danielle would notice, and if she did, she'd call the police, and that would do more harm than good. There wasn't anything the police could do. They'd only get in the way, draw attention to me. "Where was she found?"

"In the street in front of her bedroom window. She fell down at least fifteen feet." Danielle stared at me, willing me to believe that she was right, that somebody was after me, that those dead women and children were a message. And she was right. But I couldn't tell her. What would I tell her? If I did, she'd think I was crazy. She'd go to the police, and if they got involved hunting down Victoria would become much more difficult.

Besides, I really didn't want to take a trip up to the psych ward.

"Maybe she was sleep-walking," I suggested.

Danielle didn't answer. I didn't need to read her mind to know what she was thinking.

"Let's take a look at her," I said. "And then we'll decide what to do next."

What I did next after I managed to convince Danielle that it had been accident since there was nothing on the girl's body that suggested foul play—of course there wouldn't; vampires didn't shed hair or skin cells, and they didn't leave fingerprints either—was go upstairs to the reception to track down Carlisle. The receptionist glanced at me from across the rim of her glasses as I approached; I'd only come up here once or twice since I started working at the Alaska Regional. "Good morning, Dr Swan," she said, smiling. Of course, she'd know who I was. People didn't forget me; I stood out. "How can I help you?"

"I'm looking for Dr Cullen," I said. "Is he up in his office?"

"Um." She frowned down at her computer. "No, he's in the ER, actually."

"Thanks." I turned and strode down the hallway, not pausing to meet the surprised looks of the staff as I passed them. I pushed open the doors without thinking, then reeled back in shock.

Blood. A lot of blood, its sweet rich scent assaulting me, calling out to me. I gasped, covering my mouth and nose with my right hand while I grabbed the edge of the door with my left, just to have something to hold on to. I knew it wouldn't do much good in the end. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Why had I waltzed into the ER like that? If only I'd paused to think for a second… I was holding my breath, but the delicious and oh so tempting scent lingered in my system, sending flames down my suddenly parched throat. I tried to step back, walk out again into the hallway where there was only the stench of disinfectant and disease. My muscles wouldn't obey, remained frozen in place. Hearing me gasp, Carlisle, who was tending to the bleeding man, spun around. His eyes widened. He turned to speak to the nurse at his side, but red haze was clouding my senses and I couldn't make out the words. He began to move towards me, painfully slow. I was beginning to count. One. Two. Three. Four. Five seconds had passed and he was still so very far away. I felt the door crack and splinter underneath my fingers. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten. I'd held on for ten seconds already. Almost an eternity. I tried to think of Jake, who'd be so very disappointed if I slipped. Elven. Twelve. Thirteen. Then Carlisle was finally there, his hand closing around my arm like an iron clamp. "Let's get you outside," he said sub-vocally, then, loud enough for everyone else to hear, "Are you alright, Dr Swan?" Even now, even when I was falling apart at the seams I had to pretend, had to put up an act.

"I think I'm going to be sick," I managed, letting go of the door, trusting that Carlisle would stop me if I tried to attack the injured man. Carlisle hauled me out of the ER. His grip was almost painful, but that was okay, was safer. We made our way through the entrance hall, Carlisle telling everyone who cared to ask that I wasn't feeling well, and then we were finally outside. Gulping down cold air, I sank to the wet ground. Carlisle's hand rested on my shoulder, prepared to hold me back should I try to return inside.

"Thank you," I said between deep breaths. My voice was shaking. "I don't know what I was thinking."

"We all make mistakes," Carlisle replied kindly. There was no judgement in his voice. Carlisle was the only member of his family who'd never killed a human being, but still he'd never judge anyone who accidentally did. But that didn't mean that I would forget what had almost happened today, would stop judging me for my actions.

"Still, it shouldn't have happened," I said. "That was a stupid stunt to pull. I should have paged you and not just waltzed into the ER like that. Jesus, it's an ER. People are bound to be bleeding if they're in there. If you hadn't been there, I'd have killed him."

"You don't know that." Carlisle's voice was gentle. "Maybe you'd have resisted after all. For someone so young your self control is remarkable. Don't blame yourself for what almost happened, Bella. It's who we are. We can pretend to be human and act civilised, but at the end of the day we're still predators."

"You're not," I pointed out. "You never killed anyone. Well, anyone human at least."

"Thanks for the qualifier," Carlisle said drily, but shook his head as I opened my mouth to apologise. "No, you're right. I've never killed a human being. But that doesn't mean I've never been tempted. Those first few years were hard even for me. Looking back, I don't know how I did it. There were times I came close, but I had the strength to walk away, just as I believe you would have had the strength to walk away, had I not been there."

"I'm not so sure about that," I said quietly.

Carlisle surprised me by laughing. I glanced up at him, eyebrows raised. "I'm sorry," he said, still grinning which made him look at least ten years younger, "I didn't mean to laugh. But I just realised how much alike you and Edward are. I was angry at him for not telling us about him, but I forgave him. He told me why he did it and I understand. But I know he won't forgive himself for a very long time." For a moment I got the impression that Carlisle wanted to add something, but then he simply smiled. "You didn't kill that man. Forgive yourself. Be proud that you were able to resist."

Were Edward and I really so much alike? I knew that Edward took the blame for everything he believed to be his fault, sometimes even when things had never been in his control. He carried the weight of the world on his shoulders, wanted to carry it, because it made him feel in charge. He'd blamed himself when James almost killed me, had blamed himself for bringing me to the game, for letting me out of his sight and later for my broken bones and the scar on my wrist. He'd never forgiven himself for that, though I'd told him over and over again that it hadn't been his fault, that, in the end, he'd been there in time to save me. I'd asked him over and over again why he couldn't forgive himself when I had already forgiven him. He'd tried to explain, but I hadn't understood. Maybe I hadn't wanted to understand.

"You have a point," I admitted eventually, despite the fact that I didn't like it. I didn't want to have anything in common with Edward when we were so far apart, but I couldn't dispute Carlisle's reasoning. Like Edward I blamed myself for something that had almost happened, that had been outside of my control. The only thing to blame myself for was storming into the ER like that when I could just as easily have paged Carlisle. But I shouldn't blame myself for being what I was.

And Carlisle was right. We were predators.

Carlisle smiled. I straightened, brushing muddy snow off my legs. "Thanks," I said again.

"You're very welcome. Now, what was it you wanted to talk to me about?"

I couldn't believe I'd forgotten that little girl's body downstairs in the morgue, but I had. I swallowed and took another deep breath to steel me for the following conversation. I knew Carlisle would be disappointed when he learned that I'd withheld important information. Maybe he'd understand why I had, but that wouldn't change the fact that it had been wrong. I should have told Alice two nights ago. If I had, then maybe Isobel Martinez wouldn't be dead.

"I know I should have told you earlier," I said uneasily, "but I couldn't. I'm sorry. It was wrong and if I had… Well, then maybe what happened wouldn't have happened."

"Why don't you start at the beginning?" Carlisle suggested. His expression was serious again, professional. He led me around the corner where people wouldn't see us immediately; neither of us was wearing a coat, and it was far too cold to be standing outside in lab coats.

I wrapped my arms around myself, looking at the muddy ground as I said, "I know who killed those women."

"You do?" Carlisle said sharply.

"Yes." The rest came out in a rush. I wanted to get it over with. "I performed the autopsy on the latest victim, and I read the other autopsy reports as well. There were pictures attached. I wanted to see for myself. You read the article, so you know it briefly describes those girls?"

"Yes," Carlisle replied, frowning. "They all had pale skin, brown eyes and," his eyes widened, then narrowed as he realised who those girls resembled, "brown hair."

"Yes. You haven't actually seen them, but if you had you'd know the resemblance is eerie. Even my assistant noticed they looked like me. All of them. And there's more. Monday morning a little girl came in who'd allegedly drowned in her parents's pond. Her name was Antonia Swann. Today, another girl came in, Isobel Martinez, who was found on the sidewalk in front of her parents' apartment building. She fell out of her bedroom window, but according to her parents the window was locked. They have no idea how she managed to open it."

Carlisle didn't say anything. He simply stared at me, horrified, waiting for me to continue.

"The girls and the children were murdered to send me a message. I guess I was supposed to figure that out a lot sooner than I did, but I never even saw the first three victims."

"Who?" Carlisle asked eventually, his voice tight with restrained anger. It wasn't directed at me, but I still squirmed uncomfortably in his piercing gaze.

"Victoria," I whispered. "I recognised her scent."

"How?" he asked. "Why would Victoria be after you?"

"Because she's been trying to kill me for over nine years, Carlisle," I said bitterly. "Who do you think changed me? She didn't mean to. I know that. And now that I'm less easily to kill, she's trying to get me to come to her."

"I don't understand," Carlisle whispered. "Victoria has no reason to kill you."

"She was James's mate," I explained quietly. "And she wants me dead because Edward killed him. An eye for an eye, a mate for a… mate. It's him she's after, not me. She thinks that by killing me she'll destroy him. She doesn't know things aren't the same between us anymore, but I don't think she'd stop even if she knew. And I can't let her kill any more innocent people. I just can't. I'm sorry I didn't tell you earlier. It might have saved Isobel Martinez's life if I had."

Carlisle was silent for a very long time. Then he reached into the pocket of his lab coat and pulled out his cell phone. "I'm calling Esme," he said, his voice calm. No matter how dire the situation, he'd never panic. "She'll pick you up. I think you should take the rest of the day off."

I didn't protest. He was right. If I went back in there, I couldn't guarantee I wouldn't go after that man again.

"You should have told us sooner, but I don't believe that it would have changed anything. We've been combing the city for days now and we haven't found anything. Alice can't see her for some reason, so we wouldn't have been able to stop her."

I wasn't sure I agreed, but I didn't say so out loud, knowing Carlisle would object. This must be how Edward had felt last night when Carlisle had forgiven him. I couldn't forgive myself for that.

"You're not alone in this," Carlisle continued. "We're a family. We protect each other. And if Victoria wants one of us, she has to go through all of us to get her." He smiled at me. "We'll stop her," he said. It was a promise.

—

The light was beginning to fade as we drove down the narrow path leading to the Denalis' house. They lived in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by forest so dense it had no appeal even to hikers, which was, of course, why they had chose this place. I couldn't imagine anyone coming out here. The winding path had been nearly invisible from the main road; Esme had had to point it out to me. A foot and a half of snow covered the trees around us, their branches low to the ground, all but groaning under the wet weight of the snow. The Denali house was in the middle of a little valley, and when we rounded a bend I finally saw the rectangular wooden building; it was hidden underneath a blanket of snow as well, invisible to prying human eyes. A man was swirling around on the roof, moving so fast it looked like he was dancing. I assumed he was removing the snow to prevent the roof from caving in; I'd had to do the same last winter when I first came to Anchorage. Hearing the car, he paused, then raised his hand in greeting.

"That's Eleazar," Esme said, smiling.

I gave a non-committal grunt. Esme smiled slightly, but I pretended not to hear it. We hadn't spoken much since she picked me up at the hospital almost six hours ago. She'd taken me hunting though I'd told her over and over again that I wasn't thirsty, but she hadn't listened, and now I was feeling vaguely sick. Could vampires get sick? I hoped not. Then again, maybe it had nothing at all to do with me glutting myself and everything with Victoria and the little girls she'd killed, the women she'd murdered.

I wasn't looking forward to the upcoming conversation.

Carlisle had told Esme briefly what I'd revealed to him. She'd been shocked, though not as surprised as she could have been. "Alice had her suspicions," she'd said to me in the car. "After what you told her two nights ago she suspected it might have been Victoria who changed you." Alice hadn't mentioned anything to me; maybe because she hadn't been sure, maybe because she'd wanted to wait for me to tell her myself. I should have felt grateful, but instead I was angry. If only she'd asked me about it. I'd have told her. And if I had, Isobel Martinez might still be alive. I'd let a little girl die because I was a selfish bitch. Alice didn't deserve my anger, and I was angry because I was angry at her even though I knew that none of this was her fault.

I was being irrational. It wasn't like me to be furious at people who didn't deserve it, but with all that was going on I assumed it wasn't very surprising that I'd snapped—or was close to snapping, anyway. Maybe that was Victoria's master plan. Drive me insane.

I sighed. "My life's so screwed up," I said.

Esme glanced at me, her forehead creased in worry. "No, it's not. It's just been harder for you those past few years. It'll get better again. We'll take care of Victoria. We won't let her get to you."

I smiled weakly. "It's not me I'm worried about," I said and even though Esme frowned I didn't elaborate. Carlisle hadn't told her about the children yet, and I wished that I wouldn't have to, either. I'd copied the autopsy reports while Esme had been waiting for me in my office, so she hadn't seen them yet.

As Esme parked the car in front of the building, the man she'd introduced to me as Eleazar leapt down from the roof and put the shovel he'd used to remove the snow against the light, wooden wall. Smiling brightly, he opened the car door for me, and I found myself smiling back at him despite myself. "You must be Bella," he said, clasping my hand in his own. "It's so nice to finally meet you. Alice has told us so much about you."

"She has?" I asked, surprised.

A grin spread across his face. He was as beautiful as any vampire I'd ever met, his skin olive underneath his pallor, hinting at South American origins. "She has," he said. "Let's go inside. Carlisle already called to tell us what's going on. He'll be here in a little while, I think," he said to Esme. "Alice called Jasper and Edward. They're on their way back."

Still holding my hand, he pulled me up the wooden stairs and into the house. The house had been built out of light brown wood that had a reddish glow, so the dominating colours inside were white and beige; it was a very appealing contrast. The fading light of the day streamed in through the large windows on either side of the door. In broad daylight, bathed in the golden light of the sun—when it deigned to peek out from behind the clouds it usually hid behind—it would have been even more beautiful.

Eleazar slipped out of his boots and tossed them carelessly into a corner. I smiled. Alice, and probably Esme too, would have a fit if someone did that at their place. Noticing my smile, Eleazar grinned. "My wife Carmen says a vampire with my age and reputation shouldn't throw his things around a room like a child." A mischievous twinkle lit up his eyes. "I like to think it keeps me young."

I laughed. "That sounds like something my mother would say."

"A sensible woman," Eleazar replied. He led me down a narrow hallway and into the living-room which, too, was light and open. Its far wall made out of glass, the room offered a spectacular view over the snow-covered valley. It was beautiful, and if I'd been here under different circumstances I would have walked over to admire it. As it was, I remained in the doorway, my eyes wandering slowly across the room. White armchairs and a sofa, a flatscreen TV, a dining-room table with matching chairs. Pictures, many of them of the aurora borealis, and, in one corner, a wooden figurine whose shape I didn't recognise. A fire was burning brightly in the fireplace, warm and comforting, and a woman sat cross-legged on a very old-looking Persian rug in front of it. She glanced up when we entered. Blond hair fall past her shoulders, as straight as a ruler. Seeing me, her lips curved into a smile. "Bella," she said, "it's so nice to finally meet you." She didn't get up, but the warmth in her voice was real. "I'm Kate. My sisters Tanya," she waved at a strawberry-blonde woman occupying one of the armchairs; she offered me a small smile, but there was a bitter edge to it, "and Irina." Irina simply nodded her head. She didn't seem hostile to me, just distracted. Kate frowned, but didn't say anything. Apparently, she found her sisters' lack of civility shocking. "And over there's Eleazar's wife Carmen. You know, she one who's been telling him not to leave is stuff lying around for almost a hundred years now."

Eleazar sighed theatrically. "That's what I have to put up with," he complained to me. Everyone laughed.

Carmen walked over and nudged him playfully in the ribs before she pulled me into a gentle embrace. Her skin was just as dark as Eleazar's underneath her pallor. "Hello, Bella," she said, her voice warm and kind. "It's so nice to finally meet you."

"It's nice to meet you, too," I said, taken aback by the warmth with which I'd been greeted. I didn't know anything about them at all, aside from their names, yet it felt as if they knew me. How much had Alice told them about me? My irrational anger, already weakened, evaporated and was replaced by warmth. "You have a very lovely home."

"Sit down," Alice said. She'd claimed the other oversized armchair; it was just large enough—and she tiny enough—to hold us both. I sank down beside her, propping my legs up against my chest, and Alice wrapped her arm around my shoulder. "You wouldn't have hurt him," she whispered so low only I could hear. "You would have walked away."

I stared at her, unsure. "You saw it?" I asked eventually.

Alice nodded. "Every second. You wouldn't have killed him."

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. I knew Alice was telling the truth. She'd never lie to me about something like that. "Thanks for telling me." I squeezed her hand, which had settled on my arm.

Alice smiled. Then her eyes wandered off, staring into the distance at something only she could see. "Jasper and Edward will be here in a few minutes," she announced after a second. "They ditched the car somewhere in British Columbia. And Carlisle's just leaving."

"Why did they have to ditch the car?" I asked, though I wished I had't the moment the words left my mouth. Why did I care what Edward was doing? I shouldn't care. It would have been better if I hadn't. Easier. Less painful.

"They went down to Portland to pick up inlays for a house Esme's restoring," Alice explained. "Jasper will retrieve it once we're done here. Carlisle wanted them all here for this, and running was faster. I called Rose and Emmett, too," she said, looking at Esme who'd been talking quietly to Eleazar. "They'll catch a flight early tomorrow and will be back tomorrow night. Rose wasn't happy."

Esme sighed. "I wouldn't be, either, if I were her."

Great. It wasn't very difficult to imagine the mood Rosalie would be in when she stepped off that plane tomorrow. And it wouldn't improve one bit once she laid eyes on me. I made a note not to be at the airport tomorrow night, though the look Alice shot me made me think that she had other plans.

I ignored her.

"Bella," Irina said suddenly, "may I ask you a question?"

I looked up. Irina, whose hair was just as white as her sister Kate's but shorter, had wandered over to the fireplace. She'd clasped her hands loosely behind her back, obviously trying to appear relaxed, but her jaw was set, betraying her tension. "Yes?" I asked slowly.

Irina smiled, a faint, wavering smile. I noticed that neither Tanya nor Kate were looking at her. "It's about Victoria. It's alright if you don't want to talk about it," she added quickly, "but I… I need to know. Was there… Is there another vampire with her? Do you know?"

I frowned. "I don't what you're getting at…" I began, then paused as a memory resurfaced, a memory so old it was faint and blurry and almost gone. The meadow. Laurent in front of me. He'd gone up to Denali to try the Cullens' way of life but he'd found it hard. Sometimes, he'd told me, he'd cheat. "Are you talking about Laurent?" I asked.

"Yes. Do you know if he's with Victoria?"

Irina's eager voice, the hope flashing up ion her eyes rang a warning bell. Had they been close? "No, he's not," I said softly. "I'm afraid he's dead."

Irina closed her eyes. For a very long time she didn't speak. Everyone had fallen silent. What did you say to someone who'd just learned that a person she cared about was dead? "I thought he might be," he whispered. "When he didn't come back…"

Kate opened her mouth to say something, but Alice quickly shook her head, and she snapped it shut again.

"I'm glad you told me, though," Irina continued. "At least, now I know…" Her voice trailed off. She turned, staring into the orange flames. I knew how she was feeling.

"I'm sorry," I said softly.

The ensuing silence was uncomfortable. From the looks Kate and Tanya kept exchanging, I gathered that they hadn't approved of their sister's choice. They'd probably seen what Irina hadn't, that Laurent had only pretended to change his diet, and Irina must have sensed her sisters' disapproval.

Living here then couldn't have been easy.

"Jasper and Edward are here," Alice said suddenly, and a collective sigh of relief swept through the room. The front door opened, and Edward and Jasper strode in, both dusted with snow. I squirmed uncomfortably in my seat as they entered. Alice squeezed my hand reassuringly, and Jasper shot me a smile. He'd sense my discomfort, of course. I wondered what else he was feeling this close to me.

"It's no nice to see you again, Bella," Jasper said, and to my great surprise he hugged me, too.

I smiled. "I'm glad you think so."

He went to stand behind the armchair, his hands on Alice's shoulders. She smiled up at him, a smile carrying so much love I had to look away. Staring at the floor, I tried to fight the despair that threatened to settle on my mind again. Why did it have to be so hard? I glanced up at Edward, but he had walked over to the window and was looking out into the valley. My presence didn't even bother him; I might as well haven't been here. My hands clenched into fists. Make it stop, I thought desperately, willing whoever was out there to listen. Please make it stop!

And then it did stop. The despair was lifted away, the heavy weight on my chest suddenly gone. I looked up to find Jasper smiling down at me. "Thank you," I whispered. I knew the despair would return once I was out of Jasper's reach, but I didn't think about that, didn't want to think about that. I'd never felt better, never freer.

"You're very welcome."

—

Carlisle arrived five minutes later. "I asked you all to come," he said, "because Bella has information for us regarding the murders." He looked at me, his smile encouraging. "Would you please tell us what you know."

"Yes," I replied, suddenly feeling uneasy again. I retrieved the folder from my bag and flipped it open before I handed it to Alice. "As I told Carlisle, I know the vampire who's behind the murders. Her name's Victoria. All of you have heard of her, I think." I glanced at Eleazar and Carmen, who both nodded. "She's killed four people so far," I continued, glad to see that Carlisle managed to snatch the folder away from Esme before she could take a look at the pictures, "and I don't think she's going to stop until she's achieved what she came here to do."

"And what would that be?" Eleazar asked.

"Killing me," I said quietly.

Edward spun around in a movement so fast it didn't exist.

I looked at the floor again when I spoke again, afraid to meet his eyes. "Victoria's been after me for nine years now. She's holding a grudge because Edward killed her mate James, and she thinks that by killing me she'll get back at him. She doesn't know that things aren't… She doesn't know that things have changed between us. I don't think that it would matter if she did, though. She wants revenge. Two years ago she tried to kill me. She didn't succeed, obviously," I laughed bitterly as I gestured at myself, "but now that I'm harder to kill she has to get creative. Which is why she killed those women. I think she wants me to come to her. I guess she hopes that if she kills just enough humans I'll eventually cave in."

"Problem is," Alice put in, "that even though I know it's Victoria now, I still don't see her. I have no idea how she does it, but it'll make it harder for us to find her."

"No," Edward said very sharply.

I glanced up. Heads swivelled around to look at Edward. He was glaring at Jasper, his expression murderous. "Don't you even dare suggest that."

"I might be a way to lure her out of her hiding place," Jasper said quietly.

"I don't care," Edward snarled. "We're not using her as bait."

Surprised, I stared at him. The thought hadn't even occurred to me, and I wasn't sure I'd follow it unless every other option was exhausted, but why did Edward care? Did he still think I had to be protected?

"I wasn't going to suggest it," Jasper replied calmly.

"And what if he was?" I asked. "It's none of your business."

Suddenly the atmosphere in the room shifted, was charged with tension. Esme and Carlisle looked at each other, uncomfortable.

"It's too dangerous," Edward said firmly, looking at me and I forced myself not to look away again.

"Why do you care? You couldn't care less even if she kills me."

Edward's lips tightened. "It's too dangerous," he repeated with an air of finality, and that did it.

I leapt to my feet so suddenly he winced, not having expected that kind of reaction. In my peripheral vision I saw Alice shake her head as Jasper reached out to hold me back. His hands dropped back on Alice's shoulders. "You have no right to make that kind of decision for me," I hissed, venom in my voice. "But then you've alway been good at that, haven't you? Making decisions over other people's heads. You had no right to ask your family to stay away from me when you left Forks. I can hardly blame you for not loving me anymore, but I do blame you for taking them away from me, too. You had no right to. And you have no right to tell me what to do now, either."

I fell silent, breathing heavily. Edward didn't answer, was too surprised or shocked to. "I'm leaving," I muttered. "I told you everything I knew, anyway." Grabbing my bag, I stormed out of the house. By now it was dark, pitch black, the way it never was in the city. I inhaled, letting icy air stream into my lungs. It didn't do a thing to calm me.

I didn't know exactly where I was. My sense of direction wasn't as lousy as it once had been, but it could have been better. I still set off. I'd get home eventually. Marching through the snow, I felt the anger simmering inside me. "Self-righteous bastard," I muttered as I leapt across the wall of snow that separated the driveway from the forest.

That was as far as I got.

I had all but forgotten about the fact that Jasper was still holding on to my emotions, was still carrying their weight for me, but now they came rushing back, and the shock sent me tumbling to the ground. I gasped at the pain inside my chest, tried to get up again but couldn't. I lay flat in the snow, unable to move as pain tore through my body, every fibre of my being. Despair and pain and been my constant companions for so long that I barely noticed them anymore; had I known this was how I'd feel I'd never have allowed Jasper to take them away from me.

Footsteps behind me.

"Please leave," I whispered. I didn't want them to see me like that, vulnerable and broken. Whoever it was didn't listen. Instead, I was lifted off the ground so gently as if I was still a fragile human. The scent that enveloped me was achingly familiar and yet completely unexpected. Edward.

"Let me drive you home," he said quietly, letting go of me only when he was certain I wouldn't crumple to the ground again. "We need to talk."