Traveling north from Phoenix was like a horrible game of chance. Any minute I could catch the scent of a crowd of people and be off, ready to spill our secret for a chance at a drop of blood. James made sure the three of us were well fed but somehow I still found myself longing to follow that scent. To see a normal human and have a normal conversation, maybe. To feel strong and beautiful and special, traits that didn't quite show as well when in the company of only vampires.
I kept the laptop too, watch for any sign that my sister was making her way home. All I really got were updates on the lack of evidence, on the city's freak out and gradual forgetting of the mad kidnapper who'd taken the Swan twins, who'd murdered Gen Swan. My travel across the country, it seemed, was being thrown away as voluntary—even the conspiracy lovers figured that someone had called me and convinced me to drive down. After all, no human would have been able to sneak a victim that far in less than a day, would they? So people calmed themselves down. And Isabella was healing and giving no comment. And an interview with my dad asking for the kidnapper to let me come home was all I had of how they all might be feeling. Not that I ever managed to watch it all the way through.
It all made me so angry.
But then James would see and tell me to focus, to stay calm. Be in control.
I wanted revenge.
But I needed to control my anger in order to get revenge.
Which was frustrating as all hell.
We reached the forest just south of Forks two days later and then once again we were stalling. Sometimes it irritated me and I would wander—I could be at the ocean and back in what felt like moments.
Other times I forgot to think about it.
I found myself staring out into the ocean, still as a statue on my sixth day awake. There were monsters out there and I could hear them: echoes of their calls and the swish of a chase through the currents. I made the mistake of wondering if the Cullens had ever eaten a shark and found myself too angry to stand still.
I started to wander up the beach.
I knew I was getting too close to LaPush but why would it matter? Maybe I'd see Paul and could rip his—
I stopped in my tracks. I had no desire to do that.
Weird.
I began to pace, closer and closer to LaPush.
The air began to sting my nose.
What if Isabella never came back? What if she and Cullen went and hid? How long would I wait here, wasting my time? James said that he would know: James said a lot of things.
I began to follow the wind, letting it blow across my face and into the sea. I could smell people but I must have been full because it wasn't making me hungry. If anything it made my nose itch. Was it because I knew these people? I hadn't gotten close enough to Forks to know if Cass or Annalise or Tyler or Angela or… I stopped and shook my head. I hadn't gotten close enough to anyone to know it that mattered. And now I was so close to LaPush and I knew I was in control. I knew I didn't feel hungry.
Who could I talk to that would understand? The thought was mocking and rhetorical. I didn't mean it. An answer still came.
Billy Black.
S***.
Billy Black.
He knew! My posture sunk into a hunter's pose as I hunted through the old muddy memories of my human existence. I'd asked him, I'd begged him for answers! He'd called me in the car to warn me about Victoria—too little, too little and too late.
I slipped between shadows, checking the time as I slipped past someone's window: 2:15. Everyone would be at work or school. And I was too quick for them anyway.
Edward and Bella were out of reach.
But maybe I wouldn't have to wait too long to get a little tiny bit of anger out of my system.