"I have foreseen . . . " Alice began in an ominous tone.

Edward threw an elbow toward her ribs, which she dodged.

"Fine. Edward is making me do this. But I did foresee that you would be more difficult if I surprised you."

"In English?" Beau asked.

"Don't be a baby about this. No tantrums."

The last time Beau threw a tantrum, he vandalized thousands of dollars worth of furniture. Perhaps the baby insult was called for. Beau let her continue, wary of what was to come.

"So you're—I mean we're—having a graduation party. It's no big thing. But I saw you freaking out if it made it a surprise party, so Edward made me tell."

"Is there any point in arguing with you?"

"None at all."

"Okay," he sighed. "Fine. I can help with the set-up, if you need an extra pair of hands."

Alice was puzzled. "That's what the event staff is for."

"She's kidding," Edward said quickly. "By event staff, she means Emmett and Jasper."

"None of the local party planners even considered my applications," the vampire grumbled to herself. "It's not my fault that my taste is better than theirs."

Beau and Edward glanced at each other and away. There was no use correcting her on this issue. Some things were better left unsaid.

"By the way, Beau, I love my gift. You shouldn't have."

"I haven't yet, Alice."

"Oh, I know that. But you will."

Beau racked his brains, trying to remember if he ever decided on what to get Alice for graduation.

"Amazing." Edward was shaking his head. "How can someone so tiny be so annoying?"

"It's my very special talent."

"Couldn't you have waited a few weeks to tell me about this? Now I'll just be stressed that much longer."

Alice frowned. "Graduation is a week from today, Beau."

"How did that happen?"

Neither one of them answered.

Beau felt like someone had kicked his legs out from under him. The weeks of stress, of worry . . . somehow in the middle of his obsessing over time, his time had disappeared. His space for sorting through it all, for making plans, had vanished. Beau was out of time.

And he wasn't ready.

Beau didn't know how to do this. How to say goodbye to Charlie and Renée . . . to Jacob . . . to being human.

Beau knew exactly what he wanted, but now that it was staring at him in the face, he was terrified of getting it.

In theory, Beau was anxious—eager, even—to trade his mortality for immortality. It was the key to staying with Edward forever. And then there was the fact that he was being hunted by both known and unknown vampires. He didn't want to sit around, helpless and delicious, for one of them to catch up with him.

That all made sense in theory. But in practice . . . being human was all he knew. The future beyond that was a big, dark abyss that Beau couldn't know until he leapt into it.

He was in his own head for the drive home. The boys dropped Alice off as usual, then ended up at Charlie's house. Edward led Beau to the sofa and sat them both down.

Beau was still thinking everything through. Why was he panicking now?

Apparently Edward wanted to know the very same thing. Edward put both hands on either side of Beau's face.

"Would you please tell me what you're thinking before I go mad?"

"The date took me off guard. That's all."

Edward waited for him to continue, still skeptical.

"I'm not sure what to do. What I will tell Charlie, or even how to . . . "

"This isn't about the party?"

"No, but thanks for reminding me."

Edward dropped one hand, letting the other drift to the nape of Beau's neck. "You're not ready."

"I am," Beau lied. "I have to be."

"You don't have to be anything."

Beau wanted to hide his face, but with Edward's strength, there was no use trying.

"There's Victoria to worry about, and Jane . . . Caius, too."

"All the more reason to wait."

Beau tried to speak, but Edward shook his head.

"None of us had a choice. You've seen the consequences of that. We've all struggled to reconcile with something we had no control over. I won't let it be like that for you. You will have a choice."

"I've already made my choice."

"Not with a sword hanging over your head," Edward vowed. "When we're through this, with nothing forcing your hand, then you can make your choice."

Beau didn't bother bringing up Carlisle.

"Hey, while we're talking about choices, what am I getting Alice for graduation?"

"It looked like you were getting us both concert tickets—"

"That's right!" Beau was relieved. "The concert in Tacoma. It was in the newspaper last week."

Beau had clipped the advertisement and stuffed it into one of the folders he used for school. He wanted to call and get that taken care of before the show sold out.

Edward unpacked his own homework, though there wasn't much to do, with graduation on the horizon.

He was toying with a pencil when Beau ended the call with the ticket office. There was an odd look on his face, as though their earlier conversation wasn't quite finished.

"Was there something else?"

"You're good."

"I have lots of practice trying to read you," Edward said. "Ask me."

Beau remained standing. It wasn't a question—more a statement of fact.

"You don't want me to be a vampire."

"No, I don't."

"Well, I guess I wanted to know . . . why?"

Edward's eyes dropped to the pencil. He was flipping it over and under each finger, so fast that it looked like a little yellow windmill.

"You could do so much better, Beau. I know you believe I have a soul, but I'm not entirely convinced on that point, and to risk yours . . . for me to let you become what I am, just so I'll never have to lose you . . . it's the most selfish thing I'll ever do. I want it to happen for myself. But for you, I want so much more than this. If there was any way for me to become human for you, no matter the price, I would pay it."

Beau couldn't believe his ears. "You think you're being selfish?"

Edward shrugged.

"Did you think Rosalie was being selfish when she asked Carlisle to turn Emmett?"

"Back then? Yes, I did," Edward said slowly. "Now . . . I can't imagine it happening any differently."

"If people weren't selfish in the name of love, there wouldn't be any good stories," Beau told him. "Wuthering Heights would be about ten pages long."

A smile was growing on Edward's face. He stood and crossed the room to hug Beau, nuzzling his face against Beau's neck.

"Now will you answer a question for me?"

Beau drew back. "Of course."

"You don't want to get married."

Beau exhaled. Edward watched him think it over, waiting.

"That's . . . not a question."

Edward smoothed a stray curl away from Beau's forehead. "I was worrying why you felt that way."

"You want the truth?"

"Always."

"Obviously getting married right out of high school doesn't carry the same implication as it would for Ben and Angela, but I've never really considered it."

"Never?"

"I can count the number of places that actually recognize gay marriage on one hand, and the rest are trying to outlaw it altogether, so why bother? I don't come from a religious family, either. I don't need it to feel . . . complete, or whatever."

Edward was frowning. "You don't have faith?"

"I have faith in you," Beau said. "And in us. I believe there has to be some higher power out there—how else do vampires, werewolves, telepaths, and psychics come into existence?"

"That's an interesting perspective. So—marriage. Never on the agenda?"

"Not in the traditional sense, I suppose. I don't know if I'm the marrying type. But I like what the pagans do. The ones that use a rope."

"Handfasting?" Edward asked.

"Yeah, that. I think that's where the 'tying the knot' expression comes from. It feels more real than till death do us part, don't you think? Especially in our case, eternal life and all."

Edward had fallen silent, studying him for a moment. Beau thought he was looking for something, but he had no idea what it could be.

"That's it?"

"Rejecting the marital industrial complex isn't enough?"

"It's not that you were . . . " Edward was suddenly interested in the collar of Beau's t-shirt. "It's not that you were more eager for immortality than for just me?"

"No wonder your Dartmouth application needed a bribe!"

Edward was trying to be serious, but soon he was laughing, too.

"Edward, there's no point in forever without you. I wouldn't want one day without you."

"Well, that's a relief."

Still chuckling, the boys returned to the couch. Beau was delighted when Edward reclined on the length of it, laying his head in Beau's lap. Beau began stroking the bronze hair, still marveling that such an extraordinary person wanted to spend a lifetime with him.

"It's nice to understand your perspective a little better, Beau."

"Likewise."

"I'd like it very much if you'd try to consider mine."

Beau stilled his hand for a moment, staring down into those liquid gold eyes. They had a peculiar, hypnotic power.

"Beau, in my world, I was already a man. I didn't know yet that marrying a woman wouldn't have made me happy, of course. I was thinking only of war, that idealized glory they were selling to prospective draftees . . . but if I had found you at that time, there's no doubt in my mind how I would have proceeded."

"I don't know about that. You might have found a cute soldier to get trench foot with."

"Perhaps, or I might have died from mustard gas inhalation. The point is, legal or or not, I would have dropped to one knee to secure your hand. I would have wanted you for an eternity, even when the word didn't have quite the same connotations."

Edward smiled his crooked smile at him. Beau was thrown for a moment, allowing his mind to open, inch by inch.

It wouldn't have been an official union back then. The ceremony would be something private—just the two of them exchanging vows in a special place, a place all their own. Edward would be in his soldier's uniform. Beau, the conscientious objector, would have worn a dark suit in fashion at that time.

"Don't you think we should go with the times? Live like heathens?"

"But on the other hand," Edward countered, "You will soon be leaving time behind altogether. So why should the transitory customs of one local culture affect the decision so much?"

Beau chewed his lip as he thought.

Edward laughed. "You don't have to say yes or no today, Beau. It's good to understand both sides, though, don't you think?"

"So your condition . . . "

"Is still in effect. I do see your point, Beau, but if you want me to change you myself—"

"—Rent a tux," Beau mumbled.

Charlie was waiting for him as Beau came down the stairs the next morning.

Charlie must have overslept. He was usually out the door by now to relieve the officers who worked the overnight shift.

"Everything okay, Dad?"

"Is there something you're not telling me?"

Beau shoved his hands into his pockets. If he was being honest, there was a lot: the existence of vampires, the existence of werewolves, the Cullens' status as vampires, Jacob's status as a werewolf, Beau's desire to join the vampiric ranks, and the answering opposition from the werewolves.

He shrugged. "I don't think so."

Charlie was brandishing the letter from Dartmouth. Beau understood his indignation now.

"Ah, that."

"Yes, that! Beaufort Matthew Swan, this is an acceptance letter from Dartmouth College!"

Beau squeezed the back of his neck, flushing. "Yes, it is."

"Why didn't you say anything?" Charlie demanded.

"I don't know . . . I'm still trying to make sense of it myself."

"Is it about the money? Because if it's about the money—"

"Dad, please. It's not about the money. I didn't say anything because I didn't think I was going to get in. It hasn't . . . sunk in yet. That's all."

Beau laughed as his father yanked him into a tight hug, the bone crushing kind that Jacob was fond of giving.

"I'm proud of you. I love you."

Charlie had said the same thing last year after Beau came out to him.

Tears came to his eyes. There was a lot Charlie didn't know about. Top of that list was how little time together they had left.

The squawk of his father's walkie-talkie broke them apart. Beau wiped his eyes while Charlie turned to respond.

"Chief Swan, this is dispatch. Chief Swan, report."

"Go ahead, Judy."

"We have reports of a possible dumpster fire on Cedar Avenue."

Charlie rolled his eyes. "Chief Swan responding. Alert Clallam County, please."

"Roger that, chief," Judy chirped. "Over."

Beau chuckled. "She takes her job seriously, huh?"

"Does she ever. Congratulations again, kid. Have a good day at school."

Beau made a bowl of cereal while he waited for Edward to pick him up. Today's newspaper was sitting on the table, unopened.

SEATTLE TERRORIZED BY SLAYINGS

It's been less than a decade since the city of Seattle was the hunting ground for the most prolific serial killer in U.S. history. Gary Ridgway, the Green River Killer, was convicted of the murders of 48 women.

And now a beleaguered Seattle must face the possibility that it could be harboring an even more horrifying monster at this very moment.

Beau continued to read, though his stomach was roiling. The police were still focused on the gang activity theory to explain the murders. Yet there seemed to be no cohesion between the victims, no obvious motive.

"Beau?"

He almost knocked the bowl off the table. Edward was in the doorway, watching him.

"Did I startle you? I'm sorry. I did knock . . . "

"No, no, it's okay. Have you seen this yet?"

Edward was grave. "We're going to have to do something, quickly."

"What does Alice say?"

"That's the problem—she can't see anything. This is starting to get to her. Alice feels like her vision is slipping away."

Beau's eyes widened. "Can that happen?"

"Who knows? No one's ever done a study . . . but I doubt it. These gifts of ours tend to intensify over time, not weaken. Look at Aro and Jane. They didn't get that way overnight."

"Then what is it?"

"Self-fulfilling prophecy, I think. We keep waiting for Alice to see something so we can act . . . yet she's not seeing anything, because we don't act until she tells us to do so. It's maddening."

Beau washed the bowl and left it to dry in the sink. Edward was pacing.

"Do you have a strong desire to attend class today? We're only a couple of days from finals. They won't be giving us anything new."

"Will Greene expel me if I do? I have to be knocking on the door of that."

"He's as eager for summer as any of us."

"Then let's go. But where?"

"I want to talk to Jasper."

Jasper, again. It was strange. In the Cullen family, Jasper was always on the fringe. Part of things but never the center of them. It was Beau's unspoken assumption that Jasper was only there for Alice. He had the sense Jasper would follow Alice anywhere, but that this lifestyle was not his first choice.

Beau had never seen Edward feel dependent on Jasper. Perhaps this is what he'd meant by expertise. Beau didn't really know much about Jasper's history, other than he had come from somewhere in the south before Alice found him. Edward always shied away from questions about his newest brother, and Beau often felt too intimidated by the tall, blond vampire to ask him outright.

The boys found Carlisle, Esme, and Jasper watching the news. Alice wasn't sitting with them; she was perched on the last step of the staircase with her head in her hands. Beau sank into the vacant spot next to her and put an arm around her shoulders.

Emmett ambled past them, perfectly at ease. "Hey, Edward. Ditching, Beau?"

"We both are," Edward said.

"Yes, but it's his first time through high school. He might miss something."

Edward ignored him, passing the newspaper from Beau's house to Carlisle.

"Did you see that they're considering a serial killer now?"

Carlisle sighed. "They've been debating the possibility all morning."

"We can't let this go on."

"Let's go now," Emmett said with sudden enthusiasm. "I'm dead bored."

A hiss echoed down the staircase.

"She's such a pessimist."

The pessimist herself appeared at the top of the stairs. Rosalie joined the group at a near-human pace, her face smooth and expressionless.

Edward, meanwhile, had agreed with her husband. "We'll have to go sometime."

Beau watched Carlisle, who was shaking his head. It seemed, as always, his decision was the one that mattered.

"I'm concerned. We've never involved ourselves in this kind of thing before. It's not our business. We aren't the Volturi."

"I don't want the Volturi to come here. It gives us less reaction time."

Esme had never looked away from the TV. Her eyes were sad. There were so many victims now, the production team had to transition from one page of portraits to the next.

"All these innocent humans. It's not right to let them die this way."

"I know," Carlisle sighed.

For a moment, no one spoke. Then Edward turned to Jasper with interest. "You're right. That has to be it. Well, that changes everything."

Alice finally lifted her head. "What is he rambling about?"

Jasper didn't seem to enjoy the spotlight. His eyes flickered from each person to the next, until they paused on Beau's face.

"You're confused."

"We're all confused," Emmett grumbled.

"Beau should understand this, too. He's one of us now."

His words took Beau by surprise. They had not spent much time together; Edward and Alice were his most-frequent companions from the coven. Yet something about what he said pleased Beau. It was a reminder that his place was with the vampires.

Alice moved so Jasper could take her place on the staircase. Beau watched him roll up the sleeve of his sweater, exposing the white skin of his forearm. He traced one finger across a raised crescent mark.

Beau held out his own hand, the one with an identical, silvery scar.

"It's just like mine."

"I have a lot of scars like yours, Beau."

Jasper pushed the sleeves of both arms up to his shoulders. Curved half-moons crossed each other over the alabaster skin.

Beau glanced between them and the solitary scar on his hand. If earning one had almost cost Beau his life, to earn that many . . .

"Jasper, what happened to you?"

"The same thing that happened to you, a thousand times over. Our venom is the only thing that leaves a scar."

"Why?" It was the only thing he could get out.

"I didn't have quite the same upbringing as my adopted siblings here. My beginning was something else entirely. You have to understand, Beau. There are some places in the world where a vampire's life is measured in weeks, not centuries. I understand you met two of our kind in Texas."

Beau nodded.

"Imagine the ones who command those foot soldiers."

Jasper detected the flare of his anxiety and smiled gently.

"It's a different world in the South. The immortals there come out only at night. They spend the day anticipating the moves of their enemies. Those covens have been at war for centuries. The vampires there barely notice humans until they're thirsty."

Beau thought back to the biker vampires he had the misfortune to meet in Bandera. They certainly noticed humans. Two human girls, specifically, who would be worm food by now if Beau hadn't decided to do something about it.

"But what are they fighting for?"

"Territory," Jasper explained. "If one vampire can control a city, he can feed every night. Twice, three times, if he wanted to. No one would notice."

The other Cullens were watching the news report again; only Edward and Beau were listening to him now.

"A vampire named Benito invented the most effective tactic. The first anyone ever heard of him, he massacred the two small covens that shared the area near Houston. Two nights later, he took on the stronger clan of allies that claimed Monterrey in northern Mexico. He won, again."

"How did he win?"

"Benito had created an army of newborn vampires. He was the first one to think of it, and in the beginning, he was unstoppable. Very young vampires are volatile, wild, and almost impossible to control. One newborn can be reasoned with. Fifteen together are as powerful as a natural disaster. Benito had to keep making more because they fought amongst themselves."

"So . . . the newborns act like a rat king?"

A rat king specimen had been found in Estonia last year; Beau remembered it from the news. It was a disturbing image: sixteen rats stuck together by their tails, scratching and keening each other to death.

Beau pictured the newborns in the same way, bound together by their creator.

The comparison earned Jasper's approval. "Exactly like a rat king. Newborns are dangerous, but you can defeat them, if you know what you're doing. They're very powerful for the first year or so, and they can crush an elder vampire without breaking a sweat, so to speak. But they're slaves to their instincts. They don't have skills, just muscle."

"Oh, like Emmett."

"I can't wait until you're a newborn," Emmett said under his breath. "We'll see who has the muscle then."

Jasper was amused. "Emmett, you're playing with fire. We've seen Beau's temper before."

"Might liven things up around here. The competition's grown a bit stale."

Edward, who had been following along with increasing annoyance, sighed.

"Please continue, Jasper."

"All hell broke loose by that point. Once Benito's enemies realized what he'd accomplished, they made armies of their own. The Volturi finally stepped in after that. They were cleaning house for almost a year. The covens were more careful from that point on, choosing the special humans, the ones with potential . . . "

"That's how you were changed?"

"I was chosen by a general of one of the biggest vampire covens in Mexico. Her name was Maria."

"Maria will be cross if we aren't back to the barracks tomorrow."

If the bikers were speaking of the same Maria, she had not changed her ways, as Jasper had done.

Beau wasn't sure how long they talked that morning. Like Billy Black, Jasper could tell a good story.

Beau felt like he was seeing Jasper in a whole new light. Jasper stayed on the fringe of things because he spent years in the middle of a war zone. Training newborns, killing them when they outlived their usefulness, and feeling their emotions on top of his own. It was enough to drive anyone mad.

But then he met Alice. Fate led him to a diner in Philadelphia to wait out a storm.

"She was expecting me, naturally. She sat down in my booth and said, 'You've kept me waiting a long time.'"

Beau grinned as Alice dropped into her husband's lap.

"And you ducked your head, like a good Southern gentleman and said, 'I'm sorry, ma'am.'"

Being near her lit Jasper up like nothing else. "You held out your hand, and I took it without stopping to make sense of what I was doing. For the first time in a century, I felt hope."

Alice had seen the Cullens and the way they chose to live. Together they went to find the yellow-eyed vampires, apparently scaring the hell out of them, too.

Edward had chuckled at the memory. "Emmett and I were away hunting. Jasper shows up, covered in battle scars, towing that little freak around, who proceeds to greet all of us by name. Then she asked what room she could take. By the time I got home, all of my things were in the garage."

"Your room had the best view."

Alice turned to her husband when the laughter subsided. "An army. Why didn't you tell me?"

He was contrite. "I thought I was misreading the signs. There's no history in the city, no vendetta. But I've seen this pattern before and there's no other explanation for it. Someone is building an army in Seattle."

A wave of calm washed over Beau. Jasper's influence was hard at work to restore confidence.

"What can we do?"

"If we want to avoid the Volturi's involvement, we will have to destroy the newborns, and soon. I can teach you how. It won't be easy; the young ones aren't concerned about secrecy. Maybe we can lure them out."

"Has it occurred to anyone else that the only possible threat in the area that would call for the creation of an army is us?"

"Tanya's family isn't that far . . . "

"But the newborns aren't ravaging Anchorage, Esme. I think we have to consider the possibility that we are the targets."

"They're not coming after us, Edward," Alice swore. "Or . . . they don't know they are. Not yet."

"What is that?" Edward asked her. "What are you remembering?"

Beau was happy everyone else looked as impatient as he did. Edward and Alice spent too long in their own little world.

"Flickers. I can't see a clear picture when I try to see what's going on. There's nothing concrete. But these strange flashes . . . it's as if someone's changing their mind. Moving from one course of action to another so quickly that I can't get a good view."

Jasper was thoughtful. "Indecision?"

"Not indecision. Knowledge. Someone who knows how to play with the holes in your vision."

"Who would know that?" Alice whispered.

Edward's eyes were icy. "Aro knows you as well as you know yourself."

"I would see if they decided to come."

"Unless they don't want to get their hands dirty."

"But why?" Carlisle was aghast. "There's no reason for the Volturi—"

"It was there," Edward told him. "He wanted me and Alice under his command. The present and the future, virtual omniscience."

"Aro let you go."

"Carlisle, it's been decades since you've seen him," Edward insisted. "He's not the friend you remember him to be. He's jealous of our family, of our gathered powers. He would do anything to maintain his position."

Beau stared at him in horror. Edward never told him any of this, but Beau could see why he hadn't. It was a terrifying picture: Edward and Alice dressed in black, their eyes cold and blood-red . . . they would take Alec and Jane's places as Aro's favorites in no time.

"They're too committed to the mission. The Volturi can't break the rules themselves, it goes against everything they've worked for."

"When has anyone in power ever followed the rules?"

Jasper agreed with Carlisle. "The Volturi do not break the rules. Besides, it's much too sloppy. This . . . person, this threat—they have no idea what they're doing. A first-timer, I'd swear to it. I cannot believe the Volturi are involved. But they will be."

"Then let's go! What are we waiting for?"

Carlisle ignored Emmett's outburst. "We'll need you to teach us, Jasper. How to destroy them."

The pain in Carlisle's eyes was obvious. No one hated violence more than he did.

There was something bothering Beau. He couldn't put his finger on it. Probably because he was deathly afraid of all the realizations they were making here. And yet, under that, he felt he was missing something critically important.

He just needed that one puzzle piece. One piece to make the entire puzzle make sense.

"We're going to need help. Do you think Tanya's family would be willing to stand with us?"

"We'll make contact."

The phone call was brief, and not what Carlisle expected. Edward groaned aloud.

"Damn it. Damn Laurent to the deepest pit of hell where he belongs."

Alice sighed. "I'm afraid this one's on me. And Beau's friend."

"Can someone please tell me what's going on?"

"Laurent was part of Tanya's family for a while," Edward explained, his eyes on Carlisle. "Irina became involved with him. Had we known that, we wouldn't have told them about what happened in Mississippi."

Jasper had already moved on, his face grim.

"We have the skill, but not the numbers. We'd win, but at what cost?"

Too high a cost.

Beau thought the Cullens felt like he did, perhaps for the first time in decades: powerless.