Almost everything was back to normal—the good, pre-zombie normal—in less time than Beau would have believed possible.

The hospital welcomed Carlisle back with open arms, not even bothering to conceal their delight that Esme found life in Los Angeles so little to her liking.

Thanks to the half a dozen papers, tests, and projects Beau missed while he was on the run, Alice and Edward were in better shape to graduate than he was at the moment. Suddenly, college was a priority (college was still plan B, on the off chance that Edward's offer swayed him from the post-graduation Carlisle option). Many deadlines had passed Beau by, but Edward produced a new stack of applications for him to fill out every day. He'd already done the Harvard route, so it didn't bother him that, thanks to Beau's procrastination, they both might end up at Peninsula Community College next year.

Charlie was not happy with Beau or speaking to Edward. But at least Edward was allowed—during designated visiting hours—inside the house again. Beau just wasn't allowed out of it.

School became the only exception to this rule. The Newtons had hired someone else in Beau's absence and there was now no more room on the staff. Therefore, the dreary, dull yellow walls of his classrooms had become oddly inviting to him as of late. That had a lot to do with the person who sat in the desk beside him.

Edward resumed his schedule from the beginning of the year, which put him in most of Beau's classes again. Beau's behavior had been such last fall, after the Cullens' supposed move to Los Angeles, that the seat next to his had never been filled. Even Mike had kept a safe distance all that time. With Edward back in his rightful place, it was almost as if the last eight months were just a disturbing nightmare.

Almost, but not quite. There was the house arrest situation, for one thing. And for another, before the fall, Beau had not been best friends with Jacob Black. So, of course, Beau hadn't missed him then.

Beau wasn't at liberty to go to La Push, and Jacob wasn't coming to see him. Jacob wouldn't even answer his phone calls.

Beau made these calls mostly in the evening, after Edward had been kicked out—promptly at nine by a gleeful Charlie—and before Edward snuck back in through the window after the chief went to sleep. Beau chose this time to make his fruitless calls because he'd noticed that Edward made a certain face every time he mentioned Jacob's name. Disapproving and wary . . . maybe even angry. Beau knew the lacerations on his chest played a big part of it, and perhaps some reciprocal prejudice against the werewolves in general. He wasn't as vocal as Jacob had been about the "bloodsuckers," but still, he seemed to be privately seething.

They also had not addressed the kissing since Beau admitted to it. He wasn't sure where they stood on that topic, either.

Beau picked up the phone one evening to try calling Jacob again. He was surprised when a young woman answered.

"Hello?"

"Hi, is Jacob there?"

"Who is this?"

Beau took a steadying breath. "It's, um, Beau. Beau Swan. I'm a friend of Jacob's?"

"Beau Swan?" the girl repeated.

"Yeah."

The line went dead.

Beau took another breath and tried again. Jacob usually hung up at hello, but at least Beau knew it was him at the other end of the line. Billy answered sometimes or let the calls go to voicemail until Beau gave up for the night. So Beau wasn't sure who the girl could have been—Leah Clearwater, perhaps?

"Hello?"

"Hi, er, this is Beau Swan again, I think we got disconnected—"

"No, I hung up," the girl snapped. "Don't call here again."

"Look, I really need to speak with Jake. Is he there?"

"He's here," she replied. "He doesn't want to talk to you."

Beau took a deep breath. "I just want to apologize to him. I understand he's upset with me."

"Upset? Upset? You have some nerve. You're the one that convinced my brother to run off and leave our dad—who's disabled, in case you forgot—behind. Then, when you got tired of your little adventure, you did the same thing to him!"

"Your brother?" Beau croaked. "Is this . . . Rebecca?"

"Rachel," the girl snarled. "I mean it, Swan. Don't call again."

Beau could only stare as the dial tone rang out. It was obvious he was now Enemy Number One on the reservation.

After that call, Beau didn't mention Jacob much.

With Edward nearby, it was hard to think about unhappy things. When he did think about Jacob, Beau always felt guilty for not thinking of him more.

The fairy tale was back on. Prince returned, bad spell broken. Beau wasn't sure exactly what to do about the unresolved character. Where was his happily ever after?

Weeks passed, and Jacob still wouldn't answer his calls. It started to become a constant worry. Like a dripping faucet in the back of his head that he couldn't shut off or ignore. Drip, drip, drip. Jacob, Jacob, Jacob.

So, though he didn't mention Jacob much, sometimes his anxiety boiled over.

"It's just frustrating," Beau vented one Saturday afternoon as they walked out of the library. Being angry about things was easier than feeling guilty. "I wish he would just tell me off himself."

Beau had varied his pattern in the hopes of a different response. He'd called Jacob from the school payphone this time, only to get an unhelpful Billy. Again.

"Billy said he didn't want to talk to me," Beau muttered as he glared out into the rain. "Usually Billy says he's out or busy or sleeping or something. I guess Billy hates me now, too."

"It's not you, Beau," Edward said softly. "Nobody hates you."

"Feels that way," Beau said as he folded his arms across his chest. It was no more than a stubborn gesture. There was no longer a hole there now—Beau could barely remember the empty feeling anymore.

"Jacob knows we're back, and I'm sure he's ascertained that I'm with you," Edward said. "He won't come anywhere near me. The enmity is rooted too deeply."

"That's stupid. He knows you're not . . . like other vampires."

"There's still good reason to keep a safe distance."

Beau continued to glare at the rain, seeing only Jacob's face in that hotel room, his eyes full of tears.

"Beau, we are what we are," Edward said quietly. "I can control myself, but I doubt he can. He's very young. It would most likely turn into a fight, and I don't know if I could stop it before I k—"

Beau remembered what Jacob said in the parking lot: You probably wouldn't like it too much if I killed your friend. But he'd been able to handle it, that time . . .

"Edward Cullen, were you about to say 'killed' him? Were you?"

Edward looked away as the red traffic light above them turned green. He drove slowly in the direction of Charlie's house. This was very unlike his usual way of driving.

"I would try . . . very hard . . . not to do that," Edward finally said.

Beau stared at him with his mouth hanging open. Abruptly, he remembered what happened to Paris when Romeo came back. The stage directions were simple: They fight. Paris falls.

But that was ridiculous. Impossible.

"Well," Beau said at last. "Nothing like that is ever going to happen, so there's no reason to worry about it. And you know Charlie is staring at the clock right now. You'd better get me home before I get in more trouble for being late."

Beau turned his face toward Edward, smiling half-heartedly, hoping to steer the conversation away from a showdown that he would do everything in his power to prevent. Yet when he clocked the expression on Edward's impossibly perfect face, his heart started to pick up double-time.

"You're already in more trouble, Beau."

Beau peered through the windshield, trying to see what Edward was talking about. He didn't know what he expected—maybe Victoria standing in the middle of the street, her flaming red hair blowing in the wind, or a line of tall black cloaks, or the biker vampires from Bandera gnashing their teeth at them. But he didn't see anything at all.

"What? What is it?"

He took a deep breath. "Charlie . . . "

"My dad?" Beau screeched.

Edward glanced at him as he started to drive again. "Charlie is probably not going to kill you, but he's thinking about it."

"What did I do?"

Edward glanced back to Charlie's house. Beau followed his gaze and noticed for the first time what was parked in the driveway next to the cruiser. Shiny, bright red, and impossible to miss: Beau's motorcycle in all its glory.

Edward had said that Charlie was ready to kill him, so he must know that it was Beau's. There was only one person who could be behind this treachery.

"No! Why? Why would Jacob do this to me?" The sting of betrayal was sharp. Beau had trusted Jacob implicitly—trusted him with every single secret he had. He was supposed to be Beau's safe harbor, the person who could always be relied on. Of course things were strained right now and Beau was in the friendship penalty box for a lot of reasons, but he didn't think any of the underlying foundation had changed. He didn't think that was changeable!

But Beau knew exactly why this happened. He sent Jacob every mixed signal in the book. He led him on. Worst of all, he abandoned his best friend in his time of need. Beau had much to answer for.

But this gesture hit below the belt. This brought Charlie in. He was going to be so hurt and worried. Didn't he have enough to deal with already? Between the death of his best friend, Beau's long absence, the still-unexplained location of Big Red, and the reappearance of Edward in their lives, Beau knew Charlie was shouldering a lot of things. He would have never imagined that Jake could be capable of this.

"Is he still here?"

"Yes. He's waiting for us there." Edward told him, nodding toward the slender path that divided the dark fringe of the forest in two.

Beau jumped out of the car and launched himself toward the trees with his hands balled into fists. Edward caught him by the arm before he could get very far.

"Let me go! I'm going to murder him! Traitor!"

"Charlie will hear you," Edward warned. "And once he gets you inside, he may brick over the doorway."

Beau glanced back at the house. The bike seemed to take up his entire line of vision. He was seeing red. His head started throbbing.

"Just give me one round with Jacob and then I'll deal with Charlie."

"Jacob Black wants to see me. That's why he's still here."

That stopped Beau cold, taking the fight right out of him. His hands went limp. They fight; Paris falls.

Beau was furious, but not that furious. "Talk?"

"More or less."

"How much more?"

Edward smoothed a stray curl away from Beau's face. "Don't worry, he's not here to fight me. He's acting as . . . a spokesperson. For the pack."

"The pack?" Beau repeated. "What do you mean?"

"Jacob isn't the only werewolf in La Push."

Beau felt his eyes widen. How could that be? Who else had transformed, and how many of them were there?

Edward looked at the house again and took Beau's hand. "We should hurry. Charlie's getting impatient."

They didn't have to go far; Jacob stood waiting a short distance up the path. He was lounging against a mossy tree as the two approached. His face was hard and bitter, just as Beau knew it would be. Jacob looked at Beau, then at Edward, and finally, at their interlocked hands. Jacob's mouth stretched into a humorless sneer as he shrugged away from the tree. He stood on the balls of his bare feet as his trembling hands were clenched into fists. Jacob looked bigger than the last time he'd seen him. Somehow, impossibly, he was still growing. He would tower over Beau and Edward, if he stood close enough.

Edward stopped as soon as they saw him, leaving a wide space between them and Jacob. Edward shifted so he was half in front of Beau. Beau leaned around him to stare at Jacob accusingly.

Beau would have thought that seeing this resentful, cynical expression would only make him angrier. Instead, Beau's fury weakened as he stared at Jacob. It had been so long since they'd seen each other. He hated that their reunion had to be like this.

"Beau," Jacob said in greeting. He did not look away from Edward as he spoke.

"Why?" Beau whispered. "How could you do this to me, Jacob?"

The sneer vanished, but his face remained hard and rigid. "It's for the best."

"What is that supposed to mean? Do you want Charlie to strangle me? Or do you want him to have a heart attack, like Harry? No matter how mad you are at me, how could you do this to him?"

Jacob winced, his eyebrows pulling together, but he didn't answer.

"He didn't want to hurt anyone—he just wanted to get you grounded, so that you wouldn't be allowed to spend time with me," Edward murmured, voicing the thoughts that Jacob wouldn't say.

Jacob's eyes sparked with hate as he glowered at Edward.

"Jake, I'm already grounded! Why do you think I haven't been down to La Push to kick your butt for avoiding my phone calls!"

Jacob's eyes showed confusion for the first time. "That's why?"

"He thought I wouldn't let you, not Charlie."

"Stop that," Jacob snapped, gritting his teeth. "Beau wasn't exaggerating about your . . . abilities. So you must already know why I'm here."

"Yes," Edward agreed in a soft voice. "But, before you begin, I need to say something."

Beau and Jacob looked to Edward in unison. He then said something neither of them expected.

"Thank you. I will never be able to tell you how grateful I am. I will owe you for the rest of my . . . existence."

Jacob stared at him blankly. Beau knew his own expression was equally mystified.

"For keeping Beau alive," Edward clarified, his voice rough and fervent. "When I . . . didn't."

"Edward—" Beau started to say, but Edward held one hand up, his golden eyes on Jacob.

Understanding washed over Jacob's face before the hard mask returned. "I didn't do it for your benefit."

"I know. But that doesn't erase the gratitude I feel. I thought you should know. If there's ever anything in my power to do for you . . . "

Jacob raised one eyebrow.

Edward shook his head. "That's not in my power."

"Whose, then?" Jacob growled.

Edward's eyes met Beau's. "His. I'm a quick learner, Jacob Black, and I don't make the same mistake twice. I'm here until he orders me away."

Beau understood what he missed in their half verbal conversation. The only thing that Jacob would want from Edward would be his absence.

Beau heard the conviction in his own voice. "Never."

Jacob made a gagging sound.

Beau turned to Jacob. "Was there something else you needed, Jacob? You wanted me in trouble—mission accomplished. Charlie will probably ship me off to military school. But that won't keep me away from Edward. There's nothing that can do that. What more do you want?"

Jacob was watching Edward. "I just needed to remind your bloodsucking friends of a few key points in the treaty they agreed to. It's the only thing stopping me from ripping his throat out right this minute."

"We haven't forgotten."

"What key points?" Beau demanded.

"The treaty is quite specific. If any of them bite a human, the truce is over. Bite, not kill."

It only took a second for Beau to grasp the distinction. When he spoke, his voice was as cold as Jacob's had been.

"That's none of your business."

"The hell it—" was all he managed to choke out.

Beau didn't expect his hasty words to incite such a strong response. Despite the warning he'd come to give, Jacob must not have known. He must have thought the warning was just a precaution. He hadn't realized—or didn't want to believe—that Beau had already made his choice. That he was really intending to become a member of the Cullen family.

This sent Jacob into near convulsions. He pressed his fists hard against his temples, closing his eyes tight and curling in on himself as he tried to control the spasms.

"Jake? You okay?" Beau asked anxiously.

Beau took a step, but Edward caught him and put himself between the two. "Careful! He's not under control."

But Jacob was already somewhat himself again; only his arms were shaking now. He scowled at Edward with pure hatred. "Ugh. I would never hurt him."

"Didn't you?" Edward snarled.

Beau felt his stomach drop as Jacob's face crumpled. He knew all three of them were thinking about the scratches. His stitches were long gone but the skin underneath remained pink and angry.

"BEAU!" Charlie's roar echoed from the direction of the house. "YOU GET IN THIS HOUSE THIS INSTANT!"

The three boys froze.

"Crap."

Jacob's furious expression faltered. "I am sorry about that. I had to do what I could—I had to try."

"Thanks." The tremble in his voice ruined the sarcasm. Beau stared up the path, half-expecting Charlie to come barreling through the wet ferns like an enraged bull. Beau would be the red flag in that scenario.

"Just one more thing," Edward said. "We've found no trace of Victoria on our side of the line. Have you?"

He knew the answer as soon as Jacob thought it, but the latter spoke aloud anyway. "Sam said the last time was before I came home. They let her think she was slipping through—they were tightening the circle, getting ready to ambush her—"

Beau felt ice trickle down his spine. "Sam? Sam Uley? Is he a werewolf too?"

"But then she took off like a bat out of hell," Jacob went on as if Beau hadn't spoken. "Near as we can tell, she bailed. Hasn't come near our lands since."

Edward nodded. "When she comes back, she's not your problem anymore."

"She killed on our turf," Jacob hissed.

"No—" Beau began to protest both declarations.

"BEAU! I SEE HIS CAR AND I KNOW YOU'RE OUT THERE! IF YOU AREN'T INSIDE THIS HOUSE IN ONE MINUTE . . . !" Charlie didn't bother to finish his threat.

"Let's go," Edward said.

Beau looked back at Jacob, torn. Would he see him again?

"Sorry," he whispered so low that Beau had to read his lips to understand. "Bye, Beau."

"You promised," Beau reminded him desperately. "Still friends, right?"

Jacob shook his head slowly. Beau tried to swallow back the lump in his throat.

"You know how hard I've tried to keep that promise, but . . . I can't see how to keep trying. Not now . . . " Jacob struggled to keep his hard mask in place, but it wavered, then disappeared. "Miss you."

One of his hands reached toward Beau, his fingers outstretched, like he wished they were long enough to cross the distance.

"Me, too," Beau choked out. "Jake . . . "

His hand reached across the wide space between them. Beau felt like they were connected. He felt the echo of his pain inside his chest. His pain, Beau's pain.

Edward put a hand out to stop him.

"It's okay," Beau promised.

"No, it's not."

"Let him go," Jacob snarled, furious again. "He wants to!"

He took two long strides forward. A glint of anticipation flashed in his eyes. His chest seemed to swell as it shuddered.

Edward pushed Beau behind himself again before wheeling to face Jacob.

"No! Edward—"

"BEAUFORT SWAN!"

"Come on! Charlie's mad!" Beau's voice was panicked, but not because of Charlie. "Hurry!"

Jacob watched them retreat with a dark scowl on his bitter face. The anticipation drained from his eyes, and then, just before the forest came between them, his face crumpled in pain.

Beau knew that last glimpse of his face would haunt him until he saw Jacob smile again.

And right there Beau vowed that he would see Jacob smile, and soon. Beau would find a way to keep his friend.

Edward kept his arm tight around Beau's waist. It was the only thing that held the tears inside his eyes.

"Are you sure you want this, Beau? Maybe he's right. You'd really move into a house full of vampires?"

"That's probably the safest place for someone like me. Besides," Beau sighed. "If Charlie kicks me out, then there's no need for a graduation deadline, is there?"

His jaw tightened. "So eager for eternal damnation."

"You know you don't really believe that." Beau's adrenaline was still heightened from the near-miss confrontation between the two people he loved more than anything.

"Oh, don't I?"

"No, you don't."

Edward glowered at him and started to speak, but Beau cut him off.

"If you really believed that you'd lost your soul, then when I found you in Volterra, you would have immediately realized what was happening, instead of thinking we were both dead. But you didn't. You said, 'Amazing. Carlisle was right.' There's hope in you, after all."

For once, Edward was speechless.

"So let's both just be hopeful, all right?" Beau suggested, his heartbeat slowing.

Edward traced one hand across Beau's face. "Forever."

"That's all I'm asking for," Beau said, dipping his head for one last kiss before turning back to the house.

Beau had some serious problems.

His best friend counted him with his enemies.

Victoria was still on the loose, putting everyone he loved in danger.

If Beau didn't become a vampire soon, the Volturi planned to kill him.

And now it seemed that if he did, the werewolves would try to do the job themselves, not to mention killing his future family. Beau worried his best friend would die in the attempt.

Very serious problems. So why did they all suddenly seem insignificant when the boys broke through the last of the trees and he caught sight of the expression on Charlie's purple face?

Edward squeezed his hand gently. "I'm here."

Beau drew in a deep breath.

That was true. Edward was here and holding his hand.

Beau could face anything as long as that was true.

Beau squared his shoulders and walked forward to meet his fate with his destiny solidly at his side.

A/N: The end!

This moment arrived so much faster than I thought. Thanks again for reading Moonrise. As I said last week, I intend to do AU versions of Eclipse and Breaking Dawn, both of which will differ from the source material. I'm really excited to continue the series and hope you will join me for the third time!

Be well!