Chapter 5: Ally

Forks town center is exactly the same as I remember, which is deeply comforting. As eternal as our time apart had seemed, it wasn't really that long—even in human terms. There is hardly any traffic, and nowhere is far in Forks, so I arrive at the hardware store even faster than my most optimistic calculation.

Unfortunately, that good fortune ends the second I step out of the car. I hadn't given a moment's thought to how surprised people would be to see me—or how much hate they'd feel towards me.

The news of Bella's breakdown has traveled throughout town. Everyone who recognizes me—even people who've never spoken to Bella or me, let alone met either of us—has the same type of thought, condemning me for the hurt I've caused her. Bella being the Police Chief's daughter has a lot to do with it, but the severity of her response to my departure is what has reinforced and maintained their curiosity over the intervening months.

The manager of the store strongly considers refusing to serve me—until I explain the full extent of how much I want to buy. Then she makes sure to charge me at least a third more than it should cost. I am happy to comply because, from the moment she decides to overcharge, she goes as fast as she can—after dragging her heels in the beginning (being as rude as possible without actually giving bad service)—so I'll have less time to notice her creative addition.

To assist in wrapping up the sale, I accept almost all of her 'recommendations', including hiring the 'necessary' power tools for a week, and then load everything into an enclosed trailer that looks like a little garden shed on wheels. (At first, she stands back and watches me 'struggle' with a mix of self-satisfied enjoyment and the usual ogling, but she leaves me alone when another customer comes into the shop, so I give up as much of the human pretense as I dare.)

Thanks to the overall speed of the sale, I pull up outside Emily's after only 41 minutes. Bella runs right up to the car, so I cut the engine before I've even finished parking, leap from the seat, and sweep her into my arms. In the past, she would've complained (despite secretly enjoying it), but right now, she just laughs and throws her arms around my neck.

"You're early," she praises me.

"The lady at the hardware store worked as fast as she could to hide how much she was overcharging me."

Bella laughs, but I regret being so truthful when Emily cringes at the amount she imagines I've forked out (which is actually less than I paid because I decided to replace her old door with a larger door in a high-quality wood).

The pack stands around while I unload the trailer—but their plan to kick back and enjoy watching me toil (whilst getting a taste of what I can do) is quickly forgotten in their awe at my incredible packing skills.

When I pull out the wide door, their eyes practically pop out of their skulls.

Sam chuckles. "How long do you think it'll take you?" he asks, wondering when he should leave to find a deer for me.

"Less time than it'll take you," I tease.

He scoffs at that. You're on!, he retorts, before turning and racing away into the trees, shedding his clothes as he goes.

I know it's likely I'll lose, but I can't help feeling the thrill of the competition; in any case, if I don't try at all, I'll look like a coward in the pack's eyes, so I pick up the pace.

Emily has kindly arranged for all the tools they have to be laid out ready for me, and she and Sam (much to Sam's exasperation—and Bella's, when they wouldn't let her help because of her injury) even made a start on the process of pulling out some of the damaged sections, so I have a slight head start on where I'd expected to be. She wants to offer to assist—or to tell the boys to help me—but that'll only slow me down.

"Sam's trying to bring back a deer before I finish this," I explain. "I need to be as quick as I can."

She smiles at that; she understands the pack's competitive spirit, and she knows Sam won't enjoy it unless I give it my best shot. So she beckons to Bella, and they sit together on a bench they'd prepared earlier, positioning it to get the best view of the area needing repair (while still being far enough back that the pack won't be too anxious when I start moving at normal speed).

I give them all a grin, then set to work. Emily is shocked, but she's less afraid than I expected—and the wolves are more afraid. It is amusing just how panicked they feel watching me carry out the task of deconstructing what's left of the doorway.

In less than five minutes, I remove all the warped and fractured wood and begin the task of rebuilding the wall and doorframe. I work a little more slowly as I cut the wood to the correct length. The wolves laugh when I don't bother to measure anything before cutting each piece, but they quickly shut up when it becomes apparent that the new frame fits together perfectly.

I insert the insulation and affix the inner and outer boards. In twelve minutes, the frame is ready for the new door. Now that I'm so close to finishing, I start to think I might actually beat Sam—and then I hear him charging back with two deer, both slung over his back and held in place by a gentle hold on the top deer's head. He is trying hard to avoid breaking their skin, partly because it wastes my lunch, but mostly because he is hoping to avoid putting the scent of blood into the air before he gets to Emily. Just in case.

His concern makes his actions all the more remarkable. But I can't bring myself to throw the game. I grab the door and swing it into place.

After picking up the hinges, I glance at Bella. The look on her face makes me pause. What is she thinking?

She takes pity on my no doubt obvious curiosity, saying, "I can't wait for my turn to be superman."

"You don't need to be a vampire to be stronger than me," I point out.

"You know that's not remotely true," she says sourly.

I don't understand why she's so irritated; does she think I don't mean it? "I mean it," I tell her, momentarily distracted from my task. "You did a much better job of trying to be normal. I couldn't even be around my family. I was… totally useless."

"You kept yourself fed," she points out.

I shake my head. "That was a necessity."

She realizes I don't mean simple survival; she tenses, then sighs. "You tracked her to Seattle."

"Not quickly enough," I say, shuddering.

And then the wolves hear Sam. They grin and taunt me, knowing I'm going to run out of time, but Emily tells them to shut up—she is amazed by the job I've done, and extremely grateful.

While I screw the hinges in place and hang the door, I explain to Emily that I bought a selection of door handles so she can choose whichever one she prefers, but if she'd rather I put the old handle back, that's fine, too. She's curious about the new handles, so I retrieve them from the car and pass out the three options between her and Bella so they can examine them.

Before Emily makes up her mind, Sam arrives. He stops in the trees beside the house, out of sight, but close enough that Emily and Bella also hear the deer carcasses hitting the ground.

"I concede," I say, before Sam and the pack can start arguing that Sam beat me.

"You finished first," Emily declares, thinking that my task was much more complicated and therefore deserves a bonus.

"The door handle's still in your hand," Jared points out, defending his alpha.

"That's my fault," Emily retorts.

"Thank you," I say, "but the walls still need painting—"

"Which Jared can do."

"I don't mind," I assure her. "But right now—" I find myself at a loss for words, so I gesture in Sam's direction.

They all understand my meaning—and appreciate me not saying it aloud, so I nod to Bella and the others and join Sam in the trees. He has positioned himself between the deer and the clearing, at an angle where he'll be able to keep an eye on me without having to watch me drink the animals' blood.

To make it easier on him, I move slowly—barely faster than human pace—as I kneel down beside the deer. Now that I'm close (and farther from Sam's loud heartbeat), I can hear the faint thrumming of both hearts; despite his sympathy for the innocent creatures, Sam paralyzed them instead of killing them outright, and did his best to keep them alive for me.

"Thank you," I murmur, before leaning forward to place my mouth over the carotid artery. Instead of ripping the flesh apart with my teeth, I use my fingers to make a careful tear through the skin and muscle, so all it takes is a quick nick with my teeth for the blood to flow. The bloodlust surges through my body, fighting my efforts to maintain control. But I fight back, forcing my muscles to obey me, not the monster.

Sam appreciates my delicateness, although he has to keep telling himself that it's no different to him eating venison; he has killed and eaten wild animals many times since his first transformation, and my style of eating is actually less messy than his, but the thought of it still makes every fiber of his being vibrate with horror.

This heart is fading fast, so it takes longer than usual to draw out the blood. I give up before it is fully drained and start on the second deer before that one's heart loses what little strength it still has.

When I'm done, I check myself for stray blood spatter (just in case), then thank Sam again. "I appreciate your tolerance."

He nods back. You've shown you deserve it, he replies; but he can't help picturing the massacred corpses Victoria has been dumping in the national park.

That makes me flinch as I picture Bella in that state—

Sorry, Sam immediately responds, mistaking my mutual horror for a hunger of a different kind.

I flash him a smile to show I'm in total control. "It's not that," I promise him. He doesn't fully comprehend, so I say, "You protected Bella from that fate."

Glad to, he replies, understanding now.

The pack can hear my side of the story, but they are getting impatient, so I gesture for Sam to join the others.

You first, he says, thinking that he'll shift the deer carcasses farther from the house.

"You could eat them," I suggest, daring to tease him—but I'm surprised just how bad he feels about letting the meat go to waste. "You should be safe eating any part of it, but I'm certain I haven't contaminated the body."

I'll think about it, he allows, but we both know he won't wrap his head around eating a vampire's leftovers before these particular deer pass their prime.

I exit the trees slowly to make sure the pack knows I'm not a threat. Bella goes to say something, then purses her lips. I can't help but smile as I imagine what she might've been thinking this time—I always enjoy her teasing questions about how I enjoyed my 'meal'. She smiles back, and I'm in heaven.

If only the pack would stop thinking about how disgusted they are by the thought of me drinking blood and then kissing Bella.

"Have you decided which door handle?" I ask Emily—I know she hasn't, but it seems rude to remind her of the question more directly, and I want something that will take everyone's mind off the blood drinking.

Emily and the others take my question to mean that I hadn't kept track of their thoughts while I was away, and I realize abruptly that, despite the distraction of fresh blood, I had easily followed their thoughts—without once thinking about drinking human blood. After that startling realization, I'm glad I had tracking Victoria to make me refocus on my mind-reading, otherwise I doubt it would've been such an effortless act. And following the wolves' overlapping minds would've been a much greater challenge.

"Not yet, sorry," she replies.

"I wasn't trying to rush you," I assure her. "Take your time."

I glance at Jared, who has just gone from picturing various movie scenes where vampires become paralyzed after drinking 'dead' blood to picturing me drinking from a human body as cold and dead as I am. My attention encourages him to blurt out his thoughts. "Were they dead?"

"No," I reply; then, because they're all annoyingly curious about it, I reluctantly elaborate. "It wouldn't have hurt me if they were."

"Really?" he says, feeling a tiny bit disappointed.

"From what I've heard, it's highly unpleasant, but not harmful."

"Like eating cold pumpkin soup?" Embry asks, teasing Jared, who actually likes cold pumpkin soup.

That makes everyone chuckle, but instead of distracting Jared from his morbid questions, it feeds them.

"When you killed people—"

"I never killed women or children," I interrupt. "Only men."

"There weren't any female murderers in the twenties?" Bella teases.

I smile at her, though I'm surprised she can be so casual about it. "I never met one in a back alley."

She chuckles, and again, I'm blown away by her ability to forgive me.

"How did you kill them?" Jared goes on, not letting go of his grisly question.

When I look around, they're all bizarrely eager to hear my answer. "I usually broke their necks."

"What did you do with the bodies?" Paul asks, getting caught up in his pack-brother's inquisitiveness.

"I slit their wrists and threw them into the river," I say as neutrally as possible. "The coroner ruled them suicides—well, the ones that came to the attention of police."

"How many—?"

"Does it matter?" I ask, interrupting Jared.

Bella squeezes my hand. "You saved more people than you killed," she reminds me.

"You really aren't afraid of killing someone?" Jared asks Bella, trying to imagine feeling the thirst for himself.

"Not one bit," she says, and I can see in her eyes that she believes it; it is acutely painful to see how determined she is. My efforts were doomed from the moment I selfishly inserted myself into her life. "If I thought I couldn't handle the thirst, it wouldn't be fear for my soul stopping me," she goes on, gazing straight back into my eyes. "When you told me how I almost killed Ms. Cope—" I flinch, ashamed and surprised at the way she has assumed my guilt—I had been the one to almost kill Ms. Cope, the receptionist at our high school—and she breaks off. "I won't put anyone else in danger for my sake."

"Bella—"

"No, Edward," she says sternly. "I know what it means, and I won't live without you ever again."

"You won't have to," I retort.

She snorts, but thankfully doesn't express any doubts she may still have about my vow to stay by her side for the rest of her life. Instead, she says, "I am not getting old."

"It doesn't matter to me how old you are, or how old you look. I will always love you as vehemently as I do now."

She scoffs at that. "It matters to me."

"Why?"

"Because I want us to match—I want to be beautiful!"

"You are—"

"I'm talking about Rosalie's definition of beautiful," she snaps, cutting me off.

"Rosalie's definition is hardly the gold standard," I remark, trying to joke.

"I don't care about the gold standard."

Her face puckers up, and I suddenly realize she is very upset. Emily and the boys see it, too; while Emily tactfully disappears inside, Jared decides it's time to go looking for Sam and drags his pack-brothers away with him.

Now that we're alone, I take her hands in both of mine and press my lips to her knuckles. "I love you, and you are not going to die today—please let's talk about something else."

She sighs, then nods. "Tell me what you did after you left."

I look down at our hands, but I can't look away from her eyes for long. "There's not much more to tell," I say. "I tried to stay with my family, but I was only making them miserable, so Alice suggested that I track Victoria."

Her brow twists with bewilderment. "You've been tracking her the whole time you were gone?"

I struggle to find the words to answer her—it is hard to admit that I left her completely unprotected for months. "It wasn't the whole time," I confess, building up to it. "I wasn't tracking her because I thought she would come after you—I would never have left if I'd thought you were in danger. I couldn't have left if I hadn't truly believed that I was the greatest threat to your life."

She gives me a small smile. "I hope you've learned your lesson."

"I hope so, too," I reply, but she doesn't appreciate the joke. "I shouldn't have left, and I am truly sorry for the pain I put you through."

"I forgive you—as long as you never leave me again."

"I'll be here as long as you want me," I vow.

"Forever," she reminds me sternly.

Despite everything, I can't help but smile. "Then I'll be here forever," I promise, though it's an effort to keep the despair out of my voice.

If she notices anything amiss in my voice, she doesn't react to it—unless that's why she lets the conversation lapse. She leads me inside, where Emily has made a start on the painting. Bella says she'd like to paint, too, so I suggest assisting them at human speed, which makes them both laugh.

"You wouldn't be bored out of your mind?" Emily asks, thinking she would be in my place.

"In other company, certainly," I reply; she laughs, knowing I mean Bella and amused that it's no joke.

So we spend half an hour painting the walls and doorframe—Sam joins in when he returns—and then Jared, who has phased to keep an ear out for Jacob, hears what he's listening for. Jacob has phased back and is returning to La Push.

When Jacob hears that I'm still there, he tries not to think about what he's been doing—but he's not very good at it. His hatred of me helps focus his thoughts to some extent, but I still see that he took down a deer for lunch and then ran north all the way to Lake Ozette, where he phased and went for a swim, then told a group of kayakers that he'd lost his trunks in a surprisingly large wave, and one of the girls convinced her brother to give him a pair of shorts. After she'd gotten a bit too flirty, he'd walked into the nearest town and just wandered around—looking at girls.

He clamps down on the thought, trying to refocus on his hatred, but it's too late; Jared and I both hear that he has been thinking about imprinting—about how much easier it would make his life. The part of me that feels gratitude to him for helping Bella feels sorry for him and his pain, but the jealous part of me wishes he would imprint. As difficult as he finds the thought of it now, and as conflicted as he still feels about it, it would absolutely solve his problems—and mine.

Jared changes the subject, telling Jacob the plan they have begun to devise. Jacob naturally disapproves of the idea that I will join in, but he can't help hoping that tonight will be the night they finally get rid of Victoria.

When I pass on the news that Jacob is on his way back, Sam says it's time to plan our strategy for tonight. Bella and Emily are both understandably anxious, but they nod; I'm relieved when Bella doesn't try to argue.

The wolves gather in the yard to phase, then begin comparing the various strategies they've tried on previous nights and debating how best to use me. My mind-reading won't help us if Victoria gets away from us, so we discuss ways of concealing my presence for as long as possible. The best option seems to be Embry staying close to me, so that his scent will at least partially mask mine and I can whisper tactics to him without Victoria overhearing.

As Jacob reaches the main channel of the Quillayute River, he catches my scent. Being exposed to it for the past hour through his pack's thoughts has done nothing to inure him to it. His hatred for me bursts out of him like a violent storm lashing our minds—but I am not distracted enough to miss the opportunity.

"Jacob should follow my trail," I say. "If Victoria catches my scent before she gets here, she'll bolt."

Jacob growls angrily. He thinks I'm doing it deliberately, rubbing it in that I'm back and that Bella raced into my arms—forgetting all the pain I put her through (and will put her through). But it only takes a minute for Sam to talk him round.

To be as thorough as possible, Jacob doubles back, weaving back and forth a little, before he joins my path. He runs away from La Push for another few minutes, gauging how strong my scent is to find the best starting point, before turning back after we all agree we can follow the rest of my trail back into the Olympic National Park tonight while we set up the trap.

The pack is pleased at how well Jacob's scent masks mine, and I'm confident it will be enough to keep Victoria from noticing I've joined the team. Since I hadn't caught her scent on my route, it seems safe to assume she has found her own path between Seattle and Forks; the wolves' knowledge of her movements suggests that she prefers to go farther north.

Before Jacob gets all the way back, Sam decides it's time for us to join him (partly so we have time to spread out through the forest and partly to give Jacob more time to adjust to my presence). Emily and I swap phone numbers, then I say my goodbyes. The fear in Bella's eyes makes me want to take her in my arms and run to Phoenix—but the need to destroy Victoria keeps me on track.

To hide my scent as much as possible, I put on one of Sam's tops. Bella and Emily both manage a small chuckle at seeing me in a baggy 'hoodie', and I'm glad of the small amusement, which helps make up for the intensity of being surrounded by Sam's pungent odor.

As we run, I give a greater portion of my focus to the wolves' thoughts. Their minds are more complex than ordinary human minds, and their memories are considerably clearer. I enjoy picking my way through the mix of past, present, and future thoughts of the individuals alongside what can only be described as the communal pack mind, which is wholly focused on the present.

It is even nicer when Jacob finally stops taunting me and focuses on the plan.

The wolves are the first mind-readers I've ever met, and their communal thinking appeals to me; I find myself getting swept up in it. I feel such a part of the wolf mind that I occasionally forget they can't hear me, too.

Sam sees that I am thinking with them, supporting them instead of trying to take control, and he likes that I'm treating them as equals—it helps him trust me. And as unequal as they are, in some aspects, I do feel a deep respect for their unique intelligence and way of life.

After following my trail to the National Park, we fan out to cover the entire western edge of the forest. Embry stays close to me, while the others take up their usual positions, checking old routes she's taken and searching for any fresh trails. They know the forest well, so I'm confident we can pinpoint her before she catches my scent.

Nine miles in, we choose a couple of places for an "ambush", in case she can be fooled into believing that is their play for tonight. Jared and Paul use the natural environment for cover—Jared, a large fallen tree; Paul, a small rocky overhang beside the river—while the others each choose a small clearing, making no effort to hide. And then we wait.

Fortunately for the wolves, whose patience is minimal, we don't have to wait long. Jacob hears her coming when she is over a mile away, five seconds after I get my first sense of her mind. We're pleased by the set-up we chose: she is running toward the upper middle of our line, near where Jared is hiding.

Paul and Sam shift farther north, moving quietly to avoid detection for as long as possible, so that we are a much tighter line by the time Victoria is in range of my telepathy. Hearing her thoughts fires a thousand emotions inside me, as it automatically sends my thoughts back to that ill-fated baseball game, to James's self-aggrandizing hunt, to Bella's blood flooding everywhere, to the hospital and the horrid transfusions and painful treatments she had undergone—but I cage my temper for now and focus on picking her plan from her only partially guarded thoughts.

Because she expects the pack's defense, she only deviates from her course when the lead wolves make their usual charge, which makes it is easier than any of us expected to guide her toward Jared. Based on their previous encounters, she has become overly sure of their aggressive style of play—and overly sure of her ability to evade them.

Although she detects Jared's fresh scent, she doesn't realize how close he is until she picks out his heartbeat. I whisper to Embry so Jared knows to break cover now, and suddenly three wolves are heading her off.

The wolves are faster than I expected; I can't tell how much their communal thoughts help in their reaction time, but they are easily as fast as the average vampire. Under Sam's careful leadership, they had even defeated Laurent without suffering any major injuries.

Unfortunately, Victoria is not an average vampire—and she has learned how to outmaneuver them. She isn't remotely concerned about the wolves' proximity because she intends to get even closer yet; although their range of responses to her various approaches has proved greater than she anticipated, she is secure in her superior skill.

It isn't until she catches my scent that she feels any doubt, though she is so confident in her ability to evade us that she isn't frightened. Rather, seeing me with the wolves confuses her: has it taken me a week to strike a bargain with them or is it possible that I have been playing her? But she is surprisingly good at refocusing her thoughts to give me as little information as possible. She employs two of Alice's favorite tricks—the obvious one of reciting something complex (times tables of fractions, in this case) and the less obvious one of critiquing (or in this case, ridiculing) me and my actions. If I weren't used to it from Alice, it would be very distracting to listen to her comment on my every move.

When she sees that I am not fazed by her thoughts, she deliberately switches tactics. Her every thought fixes on what she wants most: Bella in agony. It is hard to hear her picturing the thousands of tortures she has dreamt up since we killed James, but I focus on the real truth: she is trying to distract me because she knows she is outnumbered. What she doesn't realize—because she thinks my diet makes me weak—is that her thoughts only inspire me to fight harder, and they more than justify our pre-emptive retaliation.

"We were playing you," I taunt her, trying to distract her. "We let you think you were winning. We let you think Alice couldn't see you."

Her thoughts waiver. She begins to fear that she's miscalculated the potential danger—that she has gotten complacent. And yet, the threat I pose without the rest of my family is considerably less; she might never get a better opportunity. While she debates whether to run or fight, we keep closing the circle.

"We've had you running in circles for a week."

She hates being mocked, especially when she put so much planning into her schemes, but she fears the 'final' death more. She tries to run, but I signal her intended direction and Paul and Jared bar the way, closing the circle. Using the next clue in her thoughts, I tell Jared to move left and she has to break off the attack and swerve sharply. Paul almost gets close enough to sink his teeth into her leg, but she twists away and darts back into clear space.

"How long will you keep trying?" I ask. "Failing," I correct. "What made you think you could fool us?"

She attempts to ignore me, but as the wolves and I close in around her, her concentration falters. Suddenly, I can see deeper into her plans—I discover how she kept us in the dark. Thanks to Laurent's Irina-supplied explanation of Alice's gift, she managed to identify a potential blind spot: Alice only sees the consequences of our decisions, so Victoria thought about her plans but carefully avoided choosing any of them, to hide her intent for as long as possible.

And then she slips further, and I see her boarding the plane to Rio. Alice had seen her on the plane, but she'd missed her getting off, because Victoria had told a flight attendant that she felt unwell and the attendant had then made the decision to remove her from the plane. She had gone through the process deliberately to trick Alice. She was preparing to go to Forks, and she wanted us to relax, thinking she was on another continent, so that Alice might miss the series of small decisions she would make on her way to Forks.

She hadn't known it had worked until she'd arrived in Washington and there was no welcome party. The wolf pack had been an unexpected annoyance, but every day that passed had strengthened her belief that her tricks were working—it was either that or the wolves had chased us away, in which case she would eventually get to Forks and then she would track down Bella's new location. In any other situation, she might've been impatient, but she was still trying not to make big decisions, so she didn't mind spending a few days testing the wolves' line.

"We watched you play your pointless little games," I say, conscious that it'll slow the flow of memories, but wanting to reaffirm the lie that we've been a step ahead the whole time, "but we're tired of it now—tired of you."

She hates the idea that she has been duped so thoroughly—but instead of fueling her rage, as I'd hoped, it fuels her desire to flee.

"There's no point running, Victoria," I say quickly, hoping to convince her of the futility of trying. "We will hunt you wherever you go."

She growls and tries to run anyway. I whisper to Embry her planned direction, and the wolves block her again. This time, she has to choose a target between Paul and Jared. Again, I warn Jared, but instead of simply avoiding her, Paul and Jared both counterattack. She shifts direction, throwing herself backward—but the rest of us are already in place, boxing her in.

Now she has at least three wolves wherever she turns—and me.

"We got James," I remind her. "That was so easy—" it is hard to say, given the suffering Bella had endured—but Victoria's reaction spares me from having to say anything more. She is desperate for vengeance. James was her mate as irrevocably as Bella is mine.

"He didn't care about you," I say, mocking her. "You've gone to all this trouble to avenge him, yet you were just a tool to him."

She shrieks and lunges at me, finally losing control. I seize my chance. She is a clever fighter, but she has never fought someone with my unique advantage. After fending off half a dozen attempts to catch me out and gain the upper hand, I get her in the perfect position for the wolves to strike. She ducks under my arm and has to roll to avoid Sam's bite. Jacob and Jared snap at her and she launches herself into the air because there's nowhere else to go.

It is easy to predict where she'll land. I grab her leg and throw her into the ground. Sam slams his front paws into her back, knocking her further off balance. Before she can recover, I grab her head and twist; Jacob grabs her left leg, Paul her right, and Embry her left arm. We all pull together, and within seconds, Victoria is in pieces.