(Paul)

My paws pounded in the dirt as I quickly ran through the forest, making my way back to Bella's house before the sun could come up. My mind raced as I ran, her emotions still pulsed through me. I could tell she had finally fallen asleep, and that that sleep was far from peaceful. I shouldn't even care.

I made it back about two hours before daybreak, I quickly located where I had hidden my clothes earlier and phased back and dressed. It was bad enough I was going to break in, I was not going to do so naked. Dressed, but still reluctant, I made my way to the actual house, noticing that she had left the door wide open when she'd ran out. I quietly slipped through and closed the door behind me, noticing the chill that had entered the house. I stood before the doorway and surveyed the kitchen, straining my ears, listening for any hint of anything out of the ordinary. No strange sounds, no strange scents. I'm here though, so I might as well be thorough.

The kitchen was small, with painted yellow cabinets. It was clean, yet you could tell it had frequent use. Someone here must like to cook. I mentally chided myself. Stay focused, Paul. In and out. Next, I entered the living room, where the stairs leading to the second floor were. I noticed that there had been a stair chair lift installed, and remembered that Sheriff Swan was life long friends with our own Chief, Billy Black, who was wheelchair bound. I guess they really are best friends.

The living room was mostly beige, with an ancient reddish couch and an even more ancient recliner, a standard crt tv with a built in dvd player sat in the corner. There was a fireplace mantel with a line of framed pictures across it. Seeing that the living room was clear, I had planned to start upstairs when my curiosity got the best of me. I stepped over to the mantel to survey the pictures a little more closely. A picture of a young Sheriff Swan with his bride on his wedding day. I scoffed thinking back to all the times he'd arrested me for fighting as a teenager, I just didn't see him as the wedding kind of guy. There were a few school pictures of Bella, a picture of her and her father fishing on the bank of a river somewhere. I guess I never thought of him as being the family kind of type. He seemed to be a better dad than mine had been, I quickly pushed the thought away and picked up a framed ribbon to distract myself. It was some sort of national art award, it was apparently for second place. Two-thousand four, so about two years ago. I vaguely wondered who it was for before placing it down and forcing myself to refocus my attention to the task at hand.

I gently climbed the stairs, keeping my ears strained and assessing every scent my nose could pick up. The stairs creaked under my weight, Damn it! I paused intermittently, making sure not to wake up Chief Swan. I was not about to give him an excuse to arrest me again. Finally, I made my way up the stairs, stood in the dark hall, making a mental note of the second floor layout. The bathroom was at the end of the hall, Charlie's room was to the right, and across from his but slightly further down was Bella's room. I silently peaked my head into Charlie's room, watching him snore for a moment, mostly to make sure he was okay before following Bella's scent to her room.

Damn, man sleeps like the dead.

I pushed the thought away and walked through Bella's opened bedroom door. Her natural lavender and honeysuckle scent clung to every inch of the room. No blood suckers had been here, at least not for a while. The scent of death and decay barely clung to the rocking chair in the corner, telling me it had been months old. The fact that it had been there at all immediately pissed me off, and reminded me of every issue I had with this damn bond to begin with. I took a minute to squeeze my eyes shut and force myself to calm down, I didn't want to destroy her room by accidentally wolfing-out. A bit more calm, I reverted my attention. The room was slightly disarrayed, it looked like she had flung her purple quilt to the floor as she'd run out, she must have been in bed. I picked it up and surveyed it.

Purple, I like when she wears purple. The memory of the day our eyes met in the meadow flashed through my mind, she'd worn purple that day, too. I flung the blanket back down, angry with myself. Dumb ass! I turned to open the closet, intending to take a quick look to be absolutely thorough when I noticed the easel that stood in the corner. I had noticed it when I first entered, but now my interests have peaked. It still held a canvas. In for a penny, in for a pound. I was already being a creep, I might as well take a quick peak. I walked around to face it better, and saw that it was actually a breathtaking piece of work. It was a desert scene, with red and brown sand and mountains, the orange color of a just finished setting sun blended into blue, stars peaked out behind scattered orange clouds in the sky, the cacti and their flowers looked so real. I hated to admit it, but I was impressed. A pale, ethereal, ghostly woman sat in the sand, just off to the side, tears streaked her face as she gazed up at the twilight sky, a slight pale blue glow surrounded her form. She was beautiful.

Jeez, did Bella actually paint this?

I hadn't figured her for the artist kind of type, but now that I thought about it, it did make perfect sense. I hated thinking back to Jacob's memories with her, but I couldn't help but remember that she usually had some sort of notebook with her whenever she hung out with him in his stupid garage. He had been dying of curiosity about it but she never let him see what was in it. Ah, I see. So it was a sketchpad. I turned away from the painting, I have gotta stop getting distracted.

Right, almost done. I opened the closet door, intending to take a small look, so I could be a thousand percent sure no sentient corpses had wandered in to scare her. I shoved the hangers of clothes aside and noticed more canvases stored in the closet. What caught my eye was that a good deal of them were destroyed. Curiously, I lifted one of the most damaged ones. It had apparently been some sort of nature painting, not much was left of it. It had been badly bent and the center had been ripped apart, but not by anything sharp.

Did she do that? Why?

I looked down and noticed more that had various damage to them, why would she destroy them then keep them? I stood for a minute trying to figure it out before deciding that I had wasted enough time here, and that I had trampled all over her privacy enough for one day. I placed the canvas back the way I had found them and gently closed the closet door back when I heard Chief Swan stirring, making his way across the hall. I froze. Goddamn it, how did I not notice he woke up?! I was about to take my chances with the window when he peeked his head in the doorway.

"Bella? You okay? You're going to be late-" He stopped when he saw me. "Lahote? What the hell are you doing here?" He looked around "Where's my daughter?!"

"I-uh, she's at Sam Uley's." I racked my brain for an excuse. Can't believe my dumb ass got caught red handed.

"Sam's? Why? What happened-? Why are you here-? 'You break into houses now?"

"I- no, damn it- I," Shit, I had nothing.

"No, wait, don't tell me-! You're the guy?!" He eyed me up and down. "Oh no, tell me you're not the guy!"

"I- uh, what?"

He rubbed his face. "Billy told me about the guy, some kind of magic wolf cult, a wolf bond of some sort- tell me you're not the guy!"

"It's not like I want to be." I answered defensively, still shell shocked that our chieftain had apparently told him as much as he had.

"Ah, shit!" He turned around and cursed.

"I'm not exactly throwing a party about it either."

"Okay, okay. Follow me downstairs, we need to establish some house rules."

"Oh no, no, no. I'm not staying long enough for house rules, I'm breaking this damn bond and I'm walking away."

"Yeah, sure you are, kid. In the meantime, there are house rules."

I snarled in aggravation as I followed him downstairs and then to the kitchen.

"Now sit down, shut up and listen." He gestured for me to sit in one of the kitchen chairs. I obeyed, only because I had to admit that I was in the wrong in this situation. He sat down across from me.

"Okay, first, let me say this. My daughter's broken enough, she doesn't need your bullshit."

"I don't intend-"

"Shut up, let's get through this. First rule, if I find you in her room again, you better have a good reason for being there."

"I-!" I stopped, "Yeah, okay." I replied in defeat, the man was right, I really had no business being there.

"Good. Next rule-"

I internally groaned. Goddamn you, Sam Uley.