Winter quarter at Peninsula College started swiftly. Bella could feel the mild depression from the students in the hallways following the holidays, but she couldn't be happier. Given her last meeting with the school's counselor, she had pushed out Calculus II to Spring quarter, which meant she had no classes with Edward.

But that didn't mean avoiding him was easy. He would offer to drive her to and from campus on the weekdays, which she would give in occasionally on the days her father couldn't give her a ride. When she had to fulfill her new weekly four-hour commitment to the hospital, Edward would be the one waiting for her after her shift. And on the weekends, he would insist that she spend time with him at the Cullen house.

Bella wasn't sure if he noticed her withdrawal from him. Surely, he could sense their prolonged silences, and the lack of initiative on her part to actively seek his presence.

And now, as Edward sat at her little desk in her bedroom, and Bella tried her hardest to focus on the textbook in front of her, she felt his eyes on her. Lifting her head up, she was met with an affectionate smile.

"I love how studious you are. Have I told you that?"

Bella shook her head, no, and then forced her eyes down to the paragraph she had read over four times.

She didn't look up again when she heard him shift. And now, he was beside her on the bed. His hand landed on hers against the comforter, and Bella took a deep, hard breath.

His other hand reached out and gently grabbed onto a strand of her hair. The words she was staring at blurred until she felt a tear release, a droplet splattering onto a Bohr model of a Nitrogen atom.

"Oh, Bella," he coaxed, his hands immediately finding her face, directing her to look at him. "What's wrong?"

She watched the concern on his brow, and it only made her lower lip quiver. The conflicting personalities of Edward Cullen were making her feel insane.

"I don't know," she whispered breathily, squeezing her eyes shut for a moment to dispel the tears.

"You don't know?" He scooted closer, which only accelerated her pulse. "Bella, tell me what's wrong."

"A panic attack," she wheezed out. "That's it."

He watched her closely, the concern so pure and evident. How could this man pose such a huge threat to her life when he appeared so broken by her reaction?

Bella scrambled out of bed and opened her window, breathing in the cool, winter air. When she turned back to Edward, he seemed entirely… sad.

"Bella, am I scaring you?"

With wide eyes, she asked, "What?"

His tone dipped into something bitter. "I know fear when I see it."

She couldn't say anything. She simply stared, and that just invited him closer. He got to his feet, approaching her slowly. She might have thought he was being cautious, but Bella couldn't help the feeling of being stalked like prey. "Talk to me."

Her voice was low, and raw. "You had said you killed a human a few months ago. A girl."

The emotion instantly wiped from his face. "What about her?"

"It's just been on my mind." Uncomfortable silence ruled between them until she asked, "Did you know her closely?"

"Olivia," he said distantly. "Yes. We were together for a few months."

His honesty was unexpected, and refreshing. "That must have been hard for you, then. If you were close."

Edward looked away sharply. "I didn't intend to kill her."

"I'm not saying that—"

"Olivia wanted to die, Bella. She baited me. She cut herself deliberately."

So, she had known he was a vampire. "She wanted you to… turn her?"

His gaze unfocused. "It was all she was interested in. Immortality."

Bella watched him closely—the way his golden eyes were just a shade darker, the way his anger was palpable by the tension bracketing his lips. And then, his attention snapped back to her, scanning her body in front of him, as if he had just realized she was standing there.

"She wanted to die," he insisted vehemently.

Bella wasn't even sure if he was telling the truth. The incredulousness of it all sunk deep in her bones, and she shivered, merely two steps away from him.

Tears burned her eyes as she whispered, "But I don't want to die."

And then a switch flipped, and Edward's anger blew away like smoke. She was pressed to his chest, suddenly very scared to breathe—to not move, or make a sound, lest he squeeze the life out of her right then and there. But she still couldn't help the sob that she released into his shirt.

"Oh, Bella Swan," he murmured softly. "You deserve to live."

But he didn't tell her that she would.


Sitting in the Cullen living room, Bella took another bite of a biscotti as Esme refilled her cup of coffee. She was on the sectional, doing her best to keep the crumbs on the plate, while also trying to balance the laptop on her lap. Edward had left her at his house abruptly that Saturday morning, an unexplained tension in his expression. Bella noticed that his smile had faded very quickly after a phone call, and Bella knew with utmost certainty that it was due to his psychic sister. But she hadn't said a word when he had gotten up and left. There was a large part of her that was always grateful to be distanced from Edward Cullen.

Her transfer application for the University of Washington beamed at her on the screen of her laptop—complete, with her transcripts and essays. She only needed to submit it. Just a few weeks from the deadline, she had been preparing for this moment from the day she stepped into Peninsula College. Her hand hovered over her trackpad, hesitant. The foreboding feeling returned to her chest whenever she thought too hard about her future.

She looked up at the sound of footsteps on the stairs, and was momentarily distracted by Jasper, who was looking noncommittally at a piece of paper. She hadn't even known that he was home.

He saw Esme in the kitchen and asked, "When is Carlisle home?"

"In about three more hours," Esme replied kindly, a dishcloth in her hands.

He nodded once, appearing before Esme and sticking the paper into her hands. "Tell him I'm waiting on his signature."

Bella eyed their exchange. "Hi, Jasper."

He turned to her, entirely aware of her presence. "I have a book I want you to read."

"A book?" She asked, intrigued.

Jasper's eyes lazed down to the snacks Esme had laid out on the coffee table. "Perhaps you can take your meal in the library."

Just a few minutes later, Bella dragged her backpack and a plate filled with cookies up to Jasper's library. Esme followed her with a fresh cup of coffee.

"Let me know if there's anything else you need," she told her warmly and shut the door behind her.

Jasper waited for a few seconds before stating, "Sugar is bad for humans."

Seated at one of the chairs facing the desk, Bella dipped a biscotti into her coffee. "Esme is trying to kill me, and I've made peace with that."

Jasper didn't seem to find that funny. He circled his desk, eying papers and an open book, seemingly in thought.

When Bella finished her cookie, she licked her lips. "Do you know where Edward went?"

"Alice called him."

She had already figured that one out. "He didn't seem very happy." She paused. "You know, I talked to him about Olivia."

"Not surprising," he murmured, his eyes flicking up to her, "since you've seemingly made peace with death."

"He was angry, but not murderous," she told him, and took a sip from her coffee. "He told me that Olivia wanted to die."

His eyebrows came together. "The girl was far from suicidal. She understood vampire superiority, and decided that was what she wanted." He looked down at his papers, shrugging. "Edward refused her."

"And so she cut herself?"

"Not too bright, that one."

Bella's lips pursed tightly. "I'm assuming that Edward brought her home?"

"Not frequently. Edward liked to keep his interests to himself."

"But the Cullens—they didn't protect her?"

The emotion on his face was pure disinterest. "They didn't want her."

"What does that mean—they didn't want her?"

"They didn't want her the way they want you." He sat at his desk, folding a piece of paper with handwriting on it. "You're aware of your shield. You're aware of how you block their mind reader."

Her mind was impenetrable. "Edward says I'm gifted."

"You are. It's very rare that a human shows such gifts prior to their turn."

Bella watched him. "Though your gift still works on me."

"My gift manifests physically. We don't believe you're a physical shield at this point, but a mental one."

Bella leaned forward. "At this point?"

"From past gifts similar to yours, a shield will usually have both a physical and mental component." He peeled open another piece of paper, scanned it, and then folded it back. "I believe you're both, but your physical shield hasn't yet manifested."

Bella slowly placed her cup of coffee down onto the side table and looked at him. "The Cullens know that I'm gifted, and that's why they're protecting me? As opposed to Olivia?"

"It would be a mistake to waste a gift."

Her gift was the only thing keeping her alive? "If I didn't show my shield as a human…"

Jasper stood, appearing by his bookcase. When he spoke, his tone was flat. "If Alice didn't see your worth, she would have let Edward get you roses instead of those lilies you so hate. She told me about this persistent vision of you cutting yourself on rose thorns from a bowed vase. Charlie would come home to your dead, bloodless body on the kitchen counter almost every time."

"Oh my god." She cleared her throat, suddenly feeling it constrict. She coughed once, her hand coming up to rest on her chest. "That's insane, Jasper."

"Is it?"

The pieces were falling into the right places, but Bella consistently refused to fuse them together. She countered weakly, "But I'm useless as a human. I'll die in a few decades, and I'll be…"

"Wasted. You'd be wasted as a human. The Cullens know this."

Her heart was suddenly beating very, very quickly. She heard the sharp slide of a thick, hardcover book as it was yanked out from the shelf.

In the next second, Jasper was dropping that big black book she had seen before onto his desk. "This is what I want you to read."

Bella swallowed with trepidation. "Philosophy?"

"Law."

She got to her feet and approached the book, her eyes sizing up the volume. "It must be like five-hundred pages."

"There are two pages I think you will find intriguing. The rest you can read at your own time."

Her fingers reached out to touch it—the edges rough, and clearly seen way too many years. The front cover was hard and unyielding—so black that the light seemed to disappear into it. But before she could lift it open, Jasper's hand came down on top of hers.

"Do not make any decisions," he told her, his eyes a warning.

She felt the pressure of his hand and looked up at him. Law, he had said. And he couldn't have meant the United States Code of Law.

"This is vampiric law?" She asked, her voice a whisper.

He nodded. "A copy. It contains our most fundamental principles and laws."

Jasper stepped away from her as she opened the book.

"Page sixty-two," he told her, and she flipped through, noticing the occasional stain and rip in the pages.

"How old is this book?" She asked.

"Much older than you."

If she hadn't felt so tense, she would have laughed. Jasper was roaming the back shelves when she finally got to page sixty-two, which was largely empty except for the title and a few sentences centered at the middle.

"The Law of Exposure," she read, the familiarity instantly jumping out at her. "You've mentioned this."

"Read Clause I."

She placed a finger on the writing. "It's the only clause."

"Read it."

And she did, out loud, "The vampire shall not expose themself to the human." And then beneath it, in a smaller, less daunting font, "See exceptions and further details in the subsections." Her eyes lifted to his, already vaguely aware of this concept, because Edward had spoken about it. Bella's involvement with his family was a strike against them. But seeing it in writing—official, and binding—was an entirely different situation. What were the real consequences? "The Cullens are breaking this law."

"Not quite. At least not right this moment," Jasper said, his hands clasped behind his back as he paced by the shelves. "Next page."

Bella flipped. Sixty-three. The subsections of the Law of Exposure. As she skimmed the several items, she said slowly, "It goes into detail regarding kills and their proper disposal…"

"Read the exceptions."

Her eyes flew further down the page. "Law of Exposure: Exception I," she read, "The vampire exposes themself through the natural process of feeding. If feeding is successful to completion, the exposure misconduct is mitigated." She looked up at him again. "So, death. If a vampire exposes themselves due to feeding, they just have to continue until they drain the human entirely?"

"Correct. The human keeps the secret, because they are dead."

"Edward's been good about this, then," she muttered lowly, with disbelief.

"Read the final exception," Jasper ordered.

She took a deep breath. "Law of Exposure: Exception II. The vampire desires the human as a mate or a companion. The human must make the transition within twelve months of exposure."

The last few words came out more slowly as they settled into her brain. Her eyes darted sharply to Jasper. She repeated, "Within twelve months of exposure."

"It's been about four months, has it not?"

Her mouth dried, her eyes skimming the exception again, and again. She hadn't even heard his question. "No."

"No?"

"Vampirism is the last thing Edward wants for me."

Jasper appeared in front of her and slammed the book shut. "Edward Cullen exposed himself within a few weeks of meeting you. By that count, you have about eight months to live, if you choose to maximize your time as a human."

Her hand shook as it rested on the book. "Edward would sooner kill me than turn me."

"Carlisle would sooner turn you than kill you. In this coven, Carlisle's word goes."

As he took away the book, Bella followed him. "Edward reveres my humanity." You deserve to live. She blinked rapidly. "Edward loves my humanity."

They were by the back shelf, and Jasper slid the book back into place. "Edward's wants and needs do not supersede the law."

"That's not—"

He turned to her quickly. "Ask me if you have a choice."

She shook her head, tears welling up in her eyes.

"Ask me, Bella."

Her voice wavered, her brain concluding swiftly, "Alice is keeping me alive just to kill me."

"That's not a question."

She barely heard him, her voice distant. "The Cullens are going to kill me, regardless of my choice?"

"The Cullens are going to kill you, because you don't have a choice."

Delusion and denial threatened to overtake her, her feet pacing on the carpet, her pulse racing. Twelve months. No. Eight. She had eight months to live?

This was madness.

A bolt of anger lanced through her. "Why now, Jasper?" She stared at him. "You can't just casually drop this on me like you didn't have a chance to tell me before."

"Alice," he said plainly.

"Alice?"

"She didn't want me to meddle, and so, I didn't." He raised his head high. "And then, she got tired of waiting for Edward to reveal your fate, so she delegated the task to me."

Bella pointed forcefully towards the direction of where she knew their contract lay—in that damned second drawer of his desk. "We had an agreement. I ask, and you tell. I asked you about my future—"

He didn't seem bothered at all by her tone. "I told you your future was Edward. I told you that you would change. You cannot blame me when you ignore my counsel."

"You withheld information."

And that was when his anger truly showed. "Do not expect everything to be spelled out for you, Bella. The evidence was in front of you the moment you walked into the Cullen home. You refused to acknowledge it."

"Edward said he doesn't want me to give up my humanity. Alice even asked if I wanted to change. She didn't tell me I would. She asked."

"The illusion of choice." He waved a hand. "The Cullens would rather you comply on your own accord. The alternative is much harder and emotionally taxing for both parties."

"And if I don't?" She asked dangerously. "If I refuse to change?"

"Your only option is death, Bella. You either live afterwards, or you remain dead. The sooner you accept that, the easier it will be."

"Who enforces the laws in that book? Who is your governing body?" She questioned harshly, her eyes searching for the big, black book in the shelves beyond. "Who would even tell them?"

Jasper went forward and sat at his desk, folding his hands in front of him. At that moment, with his piles of books and wooden furniture, he looked regal enough to be a highly ranked congressman. The contracts and paperwork, and—who even owned a copy of any laws?

His next words were spoken simply, and factually—and they didn't quite shock her, because suddenly, it all made sense.

"I would," he said nonchalantly. "I would tell them."


A/N: This chapter: A new quarter, a book of laws, and illusions of choice.


A little taste for what's coming up:

Her fever was not going to get better soon. In fact, it was probably going to get worse.

He sat on the side of her bed, and Bella felt a cool hand on her forehead. Her face scrunched up and she tried to get away. Cold. Way too cold.

"Stay still."

But she was freezing.

"Bella."


See you next week, and happy holidays!