Chapter 11: Intermediary
Alice doesn't open the window until I am right outside, but Bella more than makes up for the frosty welcome, throwing her arms around my neck and pressing her warm body against my cold one. I hug her back for a moment, stopping when my coldness makes her shiver (it's more like residual anxiety, but I can't ignore it).
I think about wrapping her in the blanket off her bed—our usual procedure—but when Alice sees my plan, she gets it first.
It is only now, when she is careful to avoid certain thoughts, that I realize leaving her alone with Bella was less than ideal. Why hadn't I called Esme?
Alice frowns at me, guessing my thoughts, and then she makes me recount the evening in the minutest detail, while I agonize over her guarded thoughts. The calm I felt around Seth drains away and all my little anxieties return.
Focusing on Bella helps me get through it. She is sad for Seth, and worried for Leah, but very happy that Seth and I have hit it off. I do my best to keep her mind off the one pack member who missed all the 'excitement' tonight, but I can't know how successful I am. Her sighs and thoughtful silences could just as easily be for Leah. But they still haunt me.
I wait until Alice leaves to ask about their evening. Bella's caginess scares me, but she quickly distracts me with kisses. I want to ask what she discussed—or planned—with my sister, before deciding I don't want to know. I want to be 17 and enjoy life. Worrying is for grownups, I repeat to myself, quoting Seth.
When it finally gets too late to ignore and Bella settles down to sleep, I try to prepare myself for what she will say this time, even as I indulge in evaluating our college options. I let myself hope that Bella will enjoy college; that she might even decide the years don't weigh as heavily on her as she thinks they will.
This time, the first word she utters is my name. But Jacob's isn't far behind, and then she tells him she's worried about him. She is pleading with him to come home, her hands clenching and unclenching in my shirt, when she suddenly cries out and jerks awake.
"Bella," I murmur, stroking the hair out of her face.
She gasps for breath for a moment, then buries her face in my neck. "Edward," she murmurs.
"Bad dream?" I ask gently.
"Yeah," she mumbles. "It's nothing—I'm just tired."
"Then sleep," I reply, quelling the need to ask her about the dream. "Nothing can harm you."
She falls asleep again in less than a minute, leaving me to wonder what had terrified her. Is she afraid that a vampire will kill Jacob before he comes home, or that he and I will fight?
Whatever the cause of her panic, she seems to sleep peacefully for the rest of the night. It is only when she wakes that her body tenses up again. I don't believe her when she says she can't remember the subject of the bad dream.
Charlie is still asleep, but she decides to get up already; she is as keen as I am to see how Leah is doing this morning. She eats quickly and has a quick wash before dressing in a mix of her usual plain style with a bit of flair—ordinary brown pants coupled with a pretty green shirt.
I exit via the window because Charlie is eating breakfast by the time Bella is ready to leave. She stops by the kitchen to give him a hug.
"I'm spending the day with Edward and Alice," she says, "if that's okay?"
The mention of Alice eases his displeasure, but he is still irritated by her miraculous transformation.
"What about Jake?" he asks. "You gonna just forget him now?"
"Of course not," she replies, her voice tense. I try as hard as I can to catch her expression from Charlie's thoughts, but as always, I can't see any of what he is seeing. "But he's gone to visit Rachel, remember?"
This is the first I've heard of the excuse, and I'm intrigued that Billy told Charlie about Jake's departure before we returned from hunting Victoria. Charlie sighs and I feel a burst of frustration; he knows he's being lied to (by omission). But he doesn't say anything, and I think it's because he feels that, as strongly as he feels about it all, it's not his business.
Bella says goodbye, then heads outside. She climbs into the truck and starts the engine via the key I have already placed there without the slightest hesitation. I like that it is as if I never left, although it also reminds me how pointless my efforts were. Our lives were already irrevocably entwined.
"I love you," I say, focusing on the positive.
She glances at me, her lips curving into a smile. "I'm driving," she teases.
"I'll save the truck if you get distracted," I promise, teasing her in return.
"I thought you hated it."
"I did—until it led me to you."
That surprises her. "That's how you found me?"
"I went to the beach first, then I was heading into town—" why make her think of Jacob unnecessarily?—"when I smelt the truck."
She smiles at that. "I assumed you tracked me through the others' thoughts, but that sounds much easier."
I feel the need to disagree—there was nothing easy about violating the treaty because I feared she had been murdered—but I don't want to spoil her smile, so I simply smile back.
"Did you call your mother last night?" I ask, remembering what she'd promised Charlie.
She sighs, then shakes her head, and I feel bad for bringing up a sensitive topic. "It got too late…"
"I'm sorry."
"It wasn't your fault!" Her fingers tighten on the steering wheel. "I'll call this morning."
"Do you know what you'll say?"
"Alice and I discussed a few things," she replies, and I wonder what she doesn't want to tell me. "Have you heard how Jasper and Emmett got on in Seattle?" she asks, changing the subject.
"No."
She glances at me. "Are you worried?"
"No." Then I realize that's not the whole truth. "I'm anxious to find out what happened, but Alice or Esme would've called if anything had gone wrong."
She nods in agreement. "Will you need to hunt today?"
"Maybe," I concede, as much as I don't want to leave her, even while she sleeps; my eyes are considerably blacker than they would normally be two days after my last hunt. "I'll decide later."
She doesn't say anything, simply nods, so I find myself debating our former hunting schedule. Regularly letting ourselves get so low doesn't seem like such a good idea when we could find ourselves facing a serious threat at a moment's notice—even with Alice's gift. As long as Bella remains human, we need to be ready for anything.
When we arrive at home, Leah is human again. For my information, Carlisle remembers the transformation—it was grueling, but as successful as we could've hoped for. It helped Carlisle repair a number of damaged ligaments and muscles, and Leah, interestingly, feels less vulnerable in this form. The condition of her broken leg has also improved, but her left arm is a mess. The elbow bends the wrong way, and her forearm is a mass of fused bone.
Carlisle calls me in to assist him, so I lead Bella straight into the tent. Jared, Paul, and Embry are variously standing, sitting, and lying around, taking up most of the spare floor space, so we have to pick our way past them.
I reply to their casual greetings and they tell me they slept well enough, but underneath that, they're looking forward to going home. Leah can't wait to leave; she is sitting up, propped up against pillows, with her damaged arm resting on a makeshift platform.
Sue and Seth are expected at any moment, so Carlisle is trying to figure out how to repair and set her arm as quickly as possible.
"Good morning," Carlisle says, sparing a moment to welcome us.
"Good morning," Bella replies, smiling at Carlisle and Leah, though Leah's expression gives her pause. "Shall I wait outside?" she asks considerately.
Leah's thoughts are surprisingly familiar—her anger matches Rosalie's—but she at least she doesn't reply and assault Bella with her nastiness. I don't want to exclude Bella, so I read between the lines and dare to tell her that she could sit on the chair beside Embry.
Leah glares at me but doesn't contradict my suggestion, so Bella sits down, while I wash my hands and don gloves in readiness for assisting Carlisle.
Leah's rapid healing has worked against her in her arm, but Carlisle is excited by the changes effected by the transformation. He is confident that we can repair the arm enough so that when she next phases, the wolf bones will form as they should. To achieve that, however, we need to identify the bones and restore them to their original locations. No easy task, not for us and certainly not for Leah.
Carlisle ups the morphine level again, and Leah's thoughts start to wander as it begins to take effect. I find the bitter invectives she directs at me amusing, and I don't mind in the slightest—the thoughts help her distract herself from the surgery we are about to perform.
Though the lack of a sterile environment has been concerning Carlisle since he took Esme's excellent advice and relocated the surgery from our kitchen to this canvas tent, I know it is the only reason Leah is still here, allowing us to help her. She absolutely couldn't have coped with an enclosed room, and the wolves love the tent so much that the unsterile conditions haven't entered their heads.
Before Carlisle starts the surgery, he explains what he's going to do. I give Bella a wry smile; she isn't going to want to hang around when we start cutting Leah open. She listens to half of the explanation before discreetly fleeing the tent.
Once Leah is mentally prepared for the surgery ahead, Carlisle makes a long, deep cut from one side of her elbow to the other, expertly separating skin and muscle from the mess of bone, and then I help him cut away the excess bone. We work as quickly as we can to reshape her bones, trying to stay ahead of her body's rapid healing.
As we work, I find myself listening for Seth's thoughts. When I realize how much I'm looking forward to seeing him again, I feel more than a little nervous. What if he feels differently in the morning?
Seven minutes later, Seth allays my fears. He isn't merely looking forward to seeing me, too, he is actively thinking my name every so often, in combination with a number, so I can tell him when I started to hear him. He's up to 24 now, which means he's been doing it for a while.
He is sitting in the back seat, leaning over the back of the front passenger seat trying to goad his mother into putting her foot down a little harder. I can hear her laughing as she refuses him, but her thoughts are barely perceptible. It makes me glad that I can hear Seth's thoughts so clearly. His cheerfulness fills my heart with youthful enthusiasm.
Carlisle sees me grinning and smiles; he can't guess what has made me so happy, but he naturally assumes that it's something I'm hearing. Then, when he hears the car pull onto our driveway, he wonders if it's Seth's thoughts I'm reacting to. He likes the boy, and he's excited by the thought of our formal treaty with the Quileutes evolving into a true alliance.
The wolves soon pick up the familiar sound of Sue's car, and they all stand up expectantly. Leah's thoughts change from a languid stream of curses against me, Sam, Emily (her cousin and former best friend), her father's bad heart, and her unwanted genes to a labored attempt at constructing an apology for her beloved, grief-stricken mother. I am intrigued by her unfamiliarity with this; she isn't used to apologizing, and feeling guilt is new, too. The number of similarities I see between Leah and Rosalie keeps growing—until Rosalie was brutally murdered, her life had seemed perfect; until Sam had abruptly forsaken her, Leah had apparently had a similarly smooth existence.
We have plenty of time to finish up before they arrive. While I make a few stitches down the length of the cut to help the skin heal smoothly, Carlisle adjusts the morphine dosage. I let him know when Leah's pain sharpens, so he has a good idea of the level she needs to maintain comfort without making her drowsy.
Sue follows Bella's encouragement to pull up near the tent, as her thoughts give way to the worry and panic she had been managing to control. Seth sees her distress and pats her arm; she grabs his hand, but that means they can't get out of the car.
Leah doesn't need to hear her mother's racing heart to feel a painful surge of remorse. I sympathize with her guilt, but I can't help but be amused when she stares at me and orders me to go get her.
Seth grins at me the moment I step into view and I give him an answering grin, before focusing on Sue. She fumbles with the door handle, so I open the door from the outside, moving slowly so as not to alarm her. "Leah's awake," I say to reassure her.
She reaches out toward the door, intending to use it for support, so I hold out my hand, and I'm touched when she not only accepts the offer of support but clutches it gratefully. Seth tugs his hand gently from hers and then gets out. He slaps a hand on my shoulder, but when I go to step aside for him, mother and son both dismiss the offer. Sue doesn't release my hand until she feels steady on her feet, and then she takes a deep breath before entering the tent.
Leah's condition is much better than she'd expected, and she is immediately relieved. She wants to hug her, but hesitates lest it hurt her. Because Leah would rather postpone the awkwardness a little longer, she holds out her good arm. Sue eagerly accepts the hug, but she is still careful not to put any pressure on her. I'm a little surprised that she isn't surer of the wolves' ability to heal, but then I realize she won't know about the wounds they have inflicted upon each other, so she has no idea how well it actually works.
When she pulls back, she says, "You don't look so bad."
Leah gives her a small smile. "Good genes," she mumbles, making a joke out of her bad genes (in her opinion).
But Sue appreciates it—as does Seth, who knows how Leah really feels about her genes—and she smiles back before turning to Carlisle. "Thank you," she murmurs, holding out her hand for him.
"You are very welcome, Mrs. Clearwater," he replies, taking her hand briefly.
She sighs, regret for her past opinion of this incredible man twisting her thoughts with guilt. "We have been so rude to you and your family, and you have shown us only kindness."
"Not at all," Carlisle insists gently. "You accepted us as your neighbors, despite our differences—we will never forget your kindness."
She smiles at that, touched by his earnestness, and then Carlisle shifts the conversation back to Leah.
The news that her injuries are all healing extremely well is welcome to all of us. When he goes into more detail about certain aspects of her recovery, Seth starts thinking about phasing. Embry guesses the reason for his distraction and tries to encourage him without words, but Seth is thinking about his mother this time, so he checks with me before making up his mind. I shake my head, so he shrugs at Embry and goes to stand by his mother.
Bella takes his place by my side, threading her fingers through mine as she peeks around me to see farther into the tent.
While Carlisle discusses the next stages of the healing process with Sue (who, as a nurse, is able to contribute to the conversation), Leah struggles with the shock of just how much Seth has changed. Her own body, in contrast, is much the same as it was (injuries aside). I want to point out that she is older and therefore her body had less 'growing up' to do, but I know she won't appreciate it. And she is so convinced that there is something wrong with her that she'd disregard it anyway.
When Carlisle and Sue run out of things to discuss, Leah decides to get the guilt off her chest before she's trapped in the car with her. She apologizes for the stupid risk she'd taken; as she speaks, she knows that Seth and I saved her life, but she doesn't want to thank either of us, let alone recognize that fact. She thinks Seth's gratitude, which makes her want to vomit, is more than I deserve and exonerates her hardheartedness—for me and for Seth, because he is obviously blissfully happy with his wolfishness and his new friends.
I like seeing her outside perspective on the importance of our friendship—because as much as I feel I already understand Seth, she knows him that much better—but the way Sue views our growing bond is deeply satisfying. She thinks that I haven't simply saved him from losing his life and his sister, I've also given him the priceless gift of an unexpected and worthwhile friendship. And she likes that I am older than my seventeen years, because Seth needs a wise head right now—although she spares a thought to oppose my "speed demon" ways.
While Leah gets out of bed and Sue goes to get her the change of clothes she brought, Seth grabs my arm and drags me aside to answer his questions. I don't let go of Bella's hand, so she is drawn along with us; she squeezes my hand, a question in her eyes, so I smile and say, "Seth just has some questions about the range of my ability."
Seth grins at her and she smiles back, reassured.
"Twenty-four," I tell him.
"Twenty-four!" he exclaims, appalled. I expected better, he teases.
"You were over three miles away when I first heard you."
Slacker, he replies, rejecting the 'pathetic' excuse. Then—for Bella's sake—he says, "I expected better."
"Obviously," I retort, replying to his teasing in kind. "When did you start counting—before you left home?"
He laughs. "Of course not." He thinks about where they were when he came up with the plan, and then the first time he began the count.
"Five miles?" I object.
Why not?, he asks, shrugging.
"I've never tried to expand my range," I muse. "Maybe I should practice…"
Seth nods; he thinks it's a good idea and offers his mind for practice. Carlisle thinks my name to ensure I'm listening and then tells me that he agrees and makes the same offer.
"You've never tried?" Bella asks curiously.
I shrug. "I only recently started deliberately listening to thoughts in detail, and I'm usually well within a mile of my target—or focusing on a familiar mind."
"Alice's?"
I nod. Alice's thoughts are the only ones I've always deliberately listened to on a regular basis.
The psychic?, Seth asks, wondering if he's remembering correctly.
"Yes. Listening to her thoughts is basically the same as having a conversation with her."
He chuckles, trying to picture her vision of my reply to her thoughts and then my reply to her answering thoughts—and so on. He shakes his head. "I'm good with just the wolf thing," he teases.
"It fits with who you are," I reply, quoting him.
He laughs. "Awesome?"
Bella chuckles at that, too, while the wolves snort in disgust. But they like him, too, which lessens the irritation of his seemingly perpetually cheerful nature.
When we don't disagree, he grins. He doesn't want to leave with his mother and sister, but he knows he should. That makes him think about Bella's dad. He asks me if we have any plans tonight, thinking about Charlie, Bella, and me coming round for dinner. I think it's a good idea, but I wish I could offer to cook and take the burden off Sue. (That wish makes me realize I have ignored a vital skill I'll need when Bella and I are living together!)
Leaving me to raise the idea with Bella later, Seth asks instead, "How's Charlie coping with you being back?"
"He certainly isn't happy about it."
How many times has he thought about shooting you?, he jokes.
"I don't know exactly what he's thinking," I say, answering him indirectly.
That intrigues him and the other wolves, who joined us after being kicked out of the tent so Leah can change, so I give a brief description of the broad sense of emotion and focus that is all I can detect from Bella's father. Bella purses her lips, presumably not enjoying the reminder that her brain works even more strangely than that.
To change the subject, I decide to remind Seth of a question he asked me last night (even though it might be a touchy subject right now). "Last night, you asked if I feel like a vampire." Seth grins, eager for the full explanation, and the others aren't disgusted, which is encouraging. "I'd have to say it depends on the situation—when I'm hunting, yes, of course, but otherwise, it's a lot more complicated."
What's complicated?, Paul asks. You're dead all the time.
I shrug. "I barely remember my life before the change. I don't remember what it feels like to be human. I only know what it feels like for other people."
Seth wonders how different they, as wolves, feel to me—compared to ordinary people—making me realize that the wolves are in a similar situation. "Do you feel like a wolf when you're in human form?" I ask them.
"I don't know if I feel like a wolf in wolf form," Seth jokes, speaking aloud for the others' sakes.
We laugh together, both thinking about the intense experience of last night—and his sense of awkwardness in his new, grownup body.
"Your mind sounds the same," I tease, though I mean it as a compliment, because his mind is certainly more developed than it was the first night we met, and considerably more advanced than an ordinary human's mind.
Bella looks thoughtful; then she asks, "There's no… indicator in their thoughts?"
"Indicator?" I query, not entirely sure what she means.
"In human form, they sound… normal?"
"Oh," I say, understanding. "No, not at all."
The wolves snort at that, not sure if I'm insulting them or not, but Seth is purely curious. "How?" he asks.
"Your thinking is much more complex, and faster. Your memories are sharper, too—not quite perfect, but close."
He tries to remember how he used to think before the change, but can't. "Did I sound different before I changed?" he asks, figuring I'm best placed to solve the mystery.
"No. Your mind changed, too."
"There wasn't any… hint?"
"For you, no, but I wouldn't rule it out for anyone whose change was more gradual."
You could be our early warning system, Seth teases, picturing me cruising the town listening to the neighborhood kids.
I can't help but laugh. "We wouldn't need to be so unfocused," I remind him.
Embry shouldn't have phased, Seth reminds me, so I dip my head to acknowledge his point.
The others want to know what we're talking about, but I don't feel like sharing, so I segue back to our previous topic. "Most human minds are boring, so until you came along, only my family's minds held any real interest for me—" I can't help glancing at Bella: her mind is intensely interesting to me, but she's blushing so I don't say anything to put the attention back on her—"because the minds of other vampires are generally not pleasant places, and I try not to invade my family's privacy any more than I do unconsciously."
You try not to listen?, Jared asks, wondering how successful I am in that, especially when I seem so keen to know Bella's thoughts; meanwhile, Seth asks, "Are there any other vampires like you?"
I can't help but smile at Jared's thoughts; I answer him first. "I've become very good at tuning out thoughts, but that doesn't mean I don't hear things anyway, or don't want to." Seth guesses my meaning, and Bella's blush deepens, so I figure she has, too. I almost add that I'd be lost without my ability, but I catch myself before I upset Bella any further.
"We know of one other family who lives as we do," I say instead, answering Seth. "We call ourselves vegetarians," I add, hoping he'll enjoy the joke.
He does. He thinks it's hilarious—and utterly appropriate. As an honorary carnivore, he can't imagine giving up eating meat. The other wolves are amused, but not as understanding as Seth. They don't fully appreciate the relevance of the parallel between humans forgoing meat in order to avoid the arguably needless slaughter of animals and us forgoing human blood.
I don't bother to comment, because Sue and Leah step out of the tent a moment later and take the focus away from me. The fact that Leah is walking amazes us all—Sue is holding her tightly in case she falls, but Leah is definitely moving a lot more normally than any of us had anticipated.
Seth helps with the car door, but when he doesn't get in after his sister, Sue realizes he might want to stay. They hadn't discussed it, because she'd hoped he would just go with them. "Aren't you coming, Seth?" she asks gently, not wanting to force it.
"Can I stay here?" he asks, seizing on the leeway in her question. Leah won't want me there anyway.
Sue can't help her first thought—the automatic fear of leaving her son with vampires—but she does trust Carlisle and me, and though she is a little nervous about the rest of our family (she has seen Esme and Rosalie at the hospital, but the other three are completely unknown to her), she trusts us to keep Seth safe.
"Excuse me, Sue," I say. "If you don't mind, the pack would like Seth to spend the day with them."
Seth likes that the sound of that as much as Sue does. She nods, then looks first at Seth and then at Jared and Paul. "Stay together," she says, and it doesn't take a mind-reader to know that she's warning them to keep an eye on her son at all times.
The wolves and Seth nod, and she smiles and says her goodbyes before starting the car and driving away.
Seth waits until the car is out of sight, and then kicks off his shoes. Guessing his intention, Bella buries her face in my shoulder. He remembers her as he's partway through shedding his pants.
"Sorry," he mumbles, feeling the need to apologize while he can still speak—but all it does is prolong his nakedness.
I can't help laughing at his innocent self-consciousness. "Just hurry up!"
He grins, then concentrates, and five seconds later, there are four wolves around us. Seth greets his brothers happily, and they return the greeting, all as excited as Seth to show their youngest recruit what it means to be a Quileute wolf.