Chapter One: Convergence
Mollie wanted to be a doctor. That meant years and years of college and med school, though; in the meantime, the closest she could get was volunteering at the Forks Community Hospital. It wasn't exactly exciting work. Mostly, she cleaned bathrooms and mopped floors. Her volunteer shift was from four to eight every weekday afternoon. She never called in sick.
She was mopping the floor of the emergency room now. It was completely empty, which was a common situation in the town of three thousand, although the hospital served the surrounding communities as well. It was ironic, Mollie thought, that she was voluntarily spending so much time in the hospital when it was the hospital itself which had brought her to Forks in the first place.
Mollie had a genetic condition which produced unusually weak bones. It wasn't brittle bone; it wasn't anything any doctor had seen before. Neither was it likely to kill her, and with the aid of several medications, it was entirely manageable. But she'd been breaking bones more frequently in the past few years—her right arm twice in the past year alone—so two years ago her mother had moved them from their rural home by Wentworth lake into Forks itself. It wasn't so bad, although Mollie missed home school.
Dr. Cullen walked in just as Mollie finished drying the clean floor. He smiled warmly at her. "Slow business today."
"That's a good thing, considering the business we're in," commented Dr. Bean, rushing in just behind him. She grabbed a surgical mask from a box, spit out her gum in it and tossed it in the waste bin. "Hey, Mollie."
"Hi, Dr. Cullen. Hi, Dr. Bean," said Mollie.
"Carlisle," said Dr. Cullen
"Kelly," said Dr. Bean.
"Mollie," said Mollie.
"That's your name," agreed Dr. Bean. "Smart kid. Hey, Carlisle, do you mind if I leave a bit early? It's six now, and I'd get off in half an hour anyway, but I have a date at nine."
"With—oh, who was the last one? Jeb?" asked Dr. Cullen, raising an eyebrow. Mollie knew he disapproved of Dr. Bean's dating habits.
"His name was Jens, and I dumped him. Lousy sex and no sense of humor."
"Well, go ahead," sighed Dr. Cullen. "Mollie and I can hold down the fort until the night shift arrives."
"Thank you! I'm out," said Dr. Bean and she zipped out of the emergency room. She hadn't even left the hospital campus when Mollie and Carlisle heard a crash just outside.
"Oomph!"
"Hey, watch it!"
"Carlisle, we have injured people!"
Mollie was laughing softly when the big glass doors swung open and in came two immensely tall and bulky Quileute men, the larger of whom was cradling a russet-skinned woman with a swollen ankle to his chest, which was bare.
"Oh, God, Kim, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to, I swear. You know I didn't mean to, right? Please tell me you know that," he groaned. "Jared's going to kill me, isn't he?"
"Probably," the woman agreed, "but I'll put in a good word for you anyway. I know it wasn't your fault."
"Maybe it's not broken?" he said hopefully.
"It's broken, Embry," said the smaller man. "Sorry, man. You too, Kim, although I reckon you got off lighter than Emb will."
"Again, probably," agreed the woman. "But while Embry may hurt later, my ankle hurts now. Can we take care of it, please?"
"Of course, Ms. Connweller," said Dr. Cullen, hurrying forward for the first time.
Embry placed Kim gently on the operating table. Dr. Cullen approached slowly; the smaller man growled, but Embry silenced him. "Shut up, Brady."
"Ms. Connweller, I need to run an X-ray," said Dr. Cullen
The Quileute woman shrugged. "Sure."
"Mollie, grab the lead blanket," the doctor ordered as he helped Kim into a wheelchair and pushed her over to the X-ray generator.
When the X-rays appeared on the wall-mounted monitor, Dr. Cullen gave them a fleeting glance. Then he asked, "Mollie, what do you see?"
Mollie studied the picture. While she knew that Dr. Cullen could glean all the information he needed from a second-long glance, she couldn't. Finally, she said, "There isn't any fracture."
"So?" the doctor prompted.
"So, it's a sprain, or—it's a sprain."
"Very good. Now, Ms. Connweller, all I can prescribe for you is rest and ice. That, and crutches, because I doubt you'll want to put any weight on that ankle any time soon."
"Will do," said Kim. She cocked her head, glancing at Mollie. "You're not Quileute, are you? Only, I haven't seen you on the rez."
"Maybe half," murmured Mollie. "I don't really know."
"Oh." Helen Ember was white, but her daughter certainly wasn't. Mollie had russet skin, full lips, wide cheekbones and long, wispy black hair. Her features contained only a nod to those of her mother—hazel eyes and a small, rounded nose. Mollie wasn't sure who her father was, and she wasn't entirely sure Helen knew either. It wasn't something they talked about.
Kim looked stricken. Mollie wondered if the other woman thought she'd said something offensive. "Don't worry, I'm not touchy about the whole bastardy thing," she assured her. Embry hid a laugh behind a choked cough. Then he looked up, and he and Mollie made eye contact.
It was like a magnetic snap, Mollie decided in the eternity that followed. She felt so drawn to him. She didn't know why. But her cheeks went red from embarrassment, and she ducked her head, breaking the connection first. When she peeked shyly back up, he was still staring.
"Hi," he said. "What's your name?"
"Mollie," she squeaked.
"Mollie," he breathed back. "Mollie—?"
"Ember," she squeaked again. Why was she squeaking?
Brady looked mildly embarrassed, but Kim looked back and forth between Mollie and her friend with a tangible air of excitement. "Oh, Embry, you didn't! You did! Oh my god, I am so happy for you! And you," she added, smiling at Mollie. "I just know we'll be friends!"
"Calm down, Kim," muttered Brady. "Jeez. Don't scare her off before Emb does."
"I don't understand," said Mollie quietly. Instantly, four sets of eyes were riveted on her. Her own eyes fixed immediately on the chocolate brown pair directly opposite, but it was Dr. Cullen, not Embry, who answered.
"I imagine everything will make sense in time," he said gently. But then he turned to Brady and gave a loaded stare.
It must have meant something to the Quileute teenager because he immediately grabbed Embry and said, "C'mon, man. Let's go." When Embry didn't move, Brady cuffed his ear and said louder, "Now." Embry stumbled backwards unwillingly, eyes fixed on Mollie. "Now." There was a force of command in the word that made everyone flinch, but even so Brady had to wrestle Embry out the doors, down the concrete steps and into the woods.
Once safely concealed by the trees, Brady and Embry stripped and phased. Immediately, they were surrounded by the heaving, pulsing, living motion of the packmind. Embry loved the feeling of interconnectedness, even if it came at the price of baring his thoughts and secrets out in the open for all his brothers (and sisters, Leah reminded him) to see. It made him better as a man, knowing that his hidden shames and mistakes would be laid out in the open.
Embry had only a split-second's warning before Brady lunged at him, but that was all he needed. What the hell?
You ass, growled Brady. You just had to, didn't you?
I did.
Brady sighed, knowing that was the truth. Jake's gonna be pissed. We're stretched tight enough now, but throw in another imprint, who doesn't even live in La Push . . .
I won't let it affect my patrols, assured Embry.
Let what affect what? asked Leah, jumping into the conversation. Wait—you did what? On who? Oh, not another one. The she-wolf groaned. I'm so sick of you lovestruck morons. Fuck, Embry. There goes your life. And part of mine, she said mournfully, her mind flashing to images of her last tryst with Embry. The pack collectively recoiled, and a clamor of voices penetrated Embry's brain.
Leah, yuck, said Seth. You did what with Embry on my bed? Don't answer that, he appended hastily.
We cleaned up, Leah said smugly.
Embry, man, not cool, groaned Seth. Just—not cool.
It won't happen again, Embry promised distractedly. All he could think about was his imprint. Her hair, her lips, her blush. The way she talked. She probably had a nice singing voice.
Whipped, chorused the younger wolves collectively. Embry sent a mental glare through to the five twelve-year-olds.
I'm thirteen, Nick reminded him.
They didn't understand women, Seth informed the pups. When they were older they would understand Embry's pain.
I understand women, protested Nick. I banged a girl from my history class two weeks ago.
Seth retracted his previous statement. The younger wolves would never understand women, not even at Seth's venerable age of nineteen. Now, who was Embry's imprint?
Mollie Ember, supplied Brady. She volunteers at the hospital with Dr. Leech.
The packmind immediately agreed that she should be removed from that situation as soon as possible. What else do we know about her?
Nothing, Embry sighed.
Kim's probably doing reconnaissance right now, suggested Seth, sifting through Embry and Brady's memories.
True, agreed the packmind.
Embry, you're coming back to La Push now. Brady, stay with Kim, ordered Seth. Embry resisted briefly.
But I wanted to—
No. Seth applied more weight and Embry caved to the beta-command. You'll see your imprint later, but Jake needs to know now. Seth snickered. Have fun with that. You know he gives all the imprinted wolves a sex talk, right?
Embry knew.
"Well!" said Kim brightly. "How about those crutches?"
"Of course," said Dr. Cullen smoothly. He left, and Mollie, sensing that the moment was over, tried to disappear. No such luck.
"Hey, Mollie," asked Kim. "Do you live around here?"
"Yeah."
"Where?"
"By the school."
"Oh? You go to school there?"
"Yeah."
"Have a boyfriend?" she asked innocently.
Mollie looked up sharply. "No."
"Hmm. Ever had one?"
Mollie blushed. "No."
"Me neither, until I met Jared," said Kim cheerfully. "He's my boyfriend."
"Oh."
"He's hot," continued Kim. "So's Embry. They're like brothers. You saw Embry, right? He's single too."
"Is he?"
"Yep. He's really funny. And hot. And he likes to read. Do you like to read? You look like the kind of girl who likes to read. What's your favorite book?"
"That's an unfair question to ask someone who loves books, Ms. Connweller," said Dr. Cullen, re-entering the emergency room.
"That's true," agreed Kim. "Are those my crutches?"
"If they fit," Dr. Cullen promised. "And if they don't, we'll find you another set which does." Just then, the glass doors swung open and Brady stalked in, without Embry.
"Hi, Brady!" called Kim. He grunted when he saw her proximity to the doctor. He scared Mollie, a bit. "Down, boy!" Kim instructed, sighing. "Leave the good doctor alone." So it was Dr. Cullen that the teen was reacting to. Mollie wondered why, but she didn't dare ask.
"I was just telling Mollie about our friend Embry," Kim prompted.
"Yeah . . . Embry." Brady looked uncomfortable."Embry's cool."
"And single," said Kim.
"That . . . that too."
"Do you remember that one time, at the beach, when Embry said—oh, what was it he said, Brady? It was funny."
"I don't remember."
"Oh, well, that's too bad. It made me laugh so much."
"Yeah."
"Hey, Mollie, we're having a bonfire at the beach on Friday. You should come."
Mollie blinked. "I'll think about it." She wouldn't go.
"You really should come. You're very pretty, did you know?"
Mollie stuttered in reply, but was saved the awkwardness of replying when Brady gently propped Kim up on the crutches and steered her towards the door. He murmured in apology, "Sorry 'bout that. Kim's kind of, uh, effusive. See you around." Kim waved as Brady herded her out the door.
When the tinted glass finally swung shut, Mollie leaned back against the counter, exhausted. She noticed Dr. Cullen staring at her, concerned, and maybe a bit sad. "I feel like something important just happened," she admitted, "but I don't understand what or how."
There was definitely a tinge of sadness in the look he gave her now. "Monumental events don't always seem as such when they're happening. Often it's only later that we can see all the consequences and repercussions."
"And how many monumental events have you lived through, Dr. Cullen?" Mollie teased.
"Oh, not many, but a few. I know them when I see them, most of the time."
"And did you see one?" she asked, curious.
The young doctor met her eyes, and Mollie noticed for the first times how oddly old he seemed. "Maybe," he said with a reassuring smile at odds with his worried face. "Or maybe not."
"I thought I felt something, but I'm—I'm not sure now."
"Time will tell."
"Will it? You said things often make sense in time, but . . ."
"Often they do. Although, sometimes, all time does is blur the details. I have a few memories like that."