Eight: Scholar
As soon as Bella hits 'send' on her two-paragraph reply to Renée's 14 emails, her future starts to waver. Alice and I both know what that means. She tries to force the vision onward, willing it to show Bella going downstairs to hold Rey, but even knowing what is going to happen—what Bella has almost certainly decided to do—doesn't fix the gap in her foresight. It's just her imagination. She sighs internally as she follows Bella downstairs.
I slip a few extra flourishes into the melody I'm currently playing, and both women smile at me as they enter the room. While Bella joins the rest of our family in listening to Renesmee's dreams, Alice comes over to me and wraps her arms around my neck.
Nothing!, she vents, resting her temple against mine to help her 'see' my reply. Even when I know—
But you don't, I point out. Not for sure.
When can I ever be sure? How can I see a stranger's future and not Bella's?!
She isn't looking to start a conversation about the philosophical implications of her gift, so I simply agree and then change the subject. Promise me you won't interrupt us if Bella decides not to come home till after tomorrow.
She nudges my head with hers in mock complaint, but aside from disparaging my sense of humor, she considers it an easy promise—there's no way Bella would stay away more than a few hours, no matter how much she'd like to skip her birthday. And as soon as we leave now, Alice is planning to take Jasper on a little break, too… with her mind as much on our exploits as theirs.
Despite knowing its futility, I express my irritation at her overly enthusiastic voyeurism.
Watching you two is much too fun, she teases, not sorry at all. I waited over half a century; there's no way I'm not gonna enjoy it now.
I'm sure I'll regret it, but I let my lips curve into a smile. It's still disturbing that she enjoys watching us, but it's not as if she hadn't been teasing me for decades about watching me "making whoopee" with my mate (a joke she had studiously avoided since Bella entered our lives).
She grins and ruffles my hair; she is feeling affectionate, but her thoughts are a mix of agreeable and aggravating. She can't wait to give Bella the key to our cottage, but she also can't resist teasing me about my enduring "prudishness". I don't know why you care—it's not like I'm asking to join you.
I roll my eyes. No, you'd never even think of asking.
If I find the right kink, she might share, she quips, knowing full well Bella would bite her head off for even suggesting it.
After expressing my disgust via a mental snort, I fix my thoughts on Rey's dream, letting the images of our whole family playing in an enormous waterfall flow through my mind and into Alice's. At first, she is surprised by the clarity of the image, but she quickly decides that it's nothing new in terms of how our gifts work together, and her attention drifts to contemplating the fun little scene, which I echo with the piano by emphasizing the jaunty melody and softening the harmonies.
While Rey is still mid-dream, Bella unexpectedly relinquishes her connection with her hand. Hoping I'm not being presumptuous, I conclude the piece I'm playing with three short chords—much to everyone's amusement—and by then, she's already waiting at the door.
Side by side, we fly across the river and into the forest. The thrill of the run soon has her grinning. When she chooses a track that follows the river and then speeds up, I'm not sure what she wants to do.
"Shall we hunt now?"
"Afraid you can't keep up?" she teases, before beckoning me to her.
Thrilled, I sweep her into my arms.
After indulging our passions twice in quick succession, Bella sits up, burying her fingers in my hair and pulling my head back with the perfect amount of force as she kisses her way down my neck, proving just how much control she has already gained over her new body—which is its own thrill separate to the myriad pleasures of her touch.
Her grip in my hair reminds me of our first naked embrace. I wrap an arm around her and stand up without breaking our connection. She giggles delightedly and we play around with this new position for half a minute before I remember the second part of my plan. I tip my head toward the nearby river; she grins in accord, so I carry her the ten yards to the water—taking my time, enjoying each step and the way the changes in our center of gravity plays with the connection between us—and then slide us into the current.
The water swirls around us, adding an extra level of stimulation. Bella moans and writhes in my arms, making the water jump and quiver, and sending shivers to my core that multiply and amplify until all I am is pleasure. The wild, uncontrolled overflowing of power caresses my body inside and out, prolonging and indeed lasting beyond my orgasm.
When my brain eventually reconnects with my senses, Bella is laughing breathlessly, her face lit up with joy.
Conscious of the time since we last hunted, I force my body to still, and when she falls silent, I propose a change in purpose.
Her swift assent confirms the urgency of her thirst.
We retrieve just enough of our clothing—Bella's dress, my trousers—to curb our passions; then, as I sift through the heartbeats around us, I locate a lion.
"Mountain lion one-point-nine miles northeast," I say, pointing in that direction.
Bella concentrates for only a split second before nodding. But then she hesitates. "Is there a second lion?"
Her question makes me reconsider the other heartbeat—a few hundred yards further north—that I'd registered and then dismissed. Mountain lions are solitary, so the smaller heart and close proximity imply that it's a cub. "It's probably a cub," I allow, anticipating Bella's reaction as her eyes widen and her face reflects the horror of orphaning an innocent animal. "There are deer—"
"No," she interrupts. "I don't want to hunt today."
I try not to grimace—whether she kills today or not, there's no escaping the innocent life she has to take—but her expression shifts to mirror how I'm feeling. She raises a hand to touch my cheek, then stops, sighs, and takes a deep, steadying breath. "Let's catch some deer and leave them for the lions."
That makes me smile, giving me hope that she will resolve the inescapable reality of our predatory nature. Her total self-possession as we hunt—taking down two scruffy stags who were sizing each other up—further affirms that hope.
While we're stripping the carcasses, she suddenly says, "I won't kill any more predators—life is already hard enough for them."
A part of me feels the urge to point out that herbivores don't have it any easier, but I agree with the underlying logic (a reflection of our bias as predators?), so I simply nod. "I won't either."
"You don't have to do that," she replies, immediately granting me more leeway than she's giving herself. "I'd appreciate if you don't kill these two lions, but that's all I ask."
"No blood appeals to me now—lion is no more appetizing than deer—so I may as well stick to deer."
"When did that happen?"
"I first noticed it when hunting in Brazil…"
She smirks, clearly appreciating the explicit cause I left unspoken, then pounces.
Pinning me to the ground, she rushes through a round of lovemaking, laughing as she sends us both to the heights of ecstasy in under a minute.
As we catch our breath, she strokes my cheek, but when I go to kiss her again, she shifts her fingers across my lips and holds me back.
"Can you hear Renesmee's thoughts?" When I shake my head, she sighs. "She's probably awake…"
"Probably," I agree heavily.
But Rey is actually still asleep—draped across Esme's and Rosalie's arms—when we arrive home. Bella is shocked by how much she has changed since we last saw her 37 minutes ago. Her growth had seemed to be slowing ever so slightly, but that waning has been more than made up for. After only five days of life, she could pass for a one-year-old child.
I still can't find it in myself to worry—in fact, I hope the trend of longer naps continues so we can prolong our alone time—but it makes Bella uneasy, putting me in the unique position of being the one doing the comforting.
"Everything about her is so strong. She isn't ageing; she's maturing. Remember the legends—the children in them grew up overnight."
She acknowledges my efforts with a smile, but I know from Jasper that her concerns are no less persistent, so I try a different angle.
"While you were changing, Esme pointed out just how lucky you are—all the mortal threats you've faced and overcome in such unexpected ways—and Renesmee has certainly inherited that luck."
Bella chuckles and her mood steadily lightens as she thinks it through. "I suppose the children would learn fast, which might be why we haven't heard about them… To vampires, after a few months, maybe they look like any other vampire?"
Carlisle and I nod, but the others struggle to imagine it; Rey is simply so different that it's hard to imagine anyone—even a total stranger—not noticing her uniqueness.
"Maybe there are some who do know," Esme suggests, "and it's a secret within a secret."
Everyone likes the sound of that, though Alice's attention is elsewhere, on a joke she just thought of and can't wait to share.
She loops her arm around Bella's, using the contact to quickly double check that her teasing won't be taken the wrong way. "It won't be long before you and Rey are competing over who looks younger."
Bella screws up her nose adorably. "As long as the answer isn't Edward!" she quips.
I give a little huff. "It's bound to be."
The others chuckle at that; they all know how much it irritates me to be the "baby" of the family. But none of them can empathize; Alice is also usually treated like a child wherever we go, but it doesn't bother her. I think it would irritate Bella, too, but I can't imagine anyone looking at her now and presuming she's a teenager.
Now that Bella is smiling, Emmett dares to question the success of our latest hunting "attempt".
She rolls her eyes, but then presses her bottom lip between her teeth—a sight that makes half of our family very nervous. "We came across a mountain lion with a cub," she says, and I think I know where her self-consciousness is coming from. "I don't want to kill the mother—or the cub—so we caught a couple of deer and left them for the lions."
Emmett snorts out a laugh, only just managing to moderate the volume before he risks waking Rey. "Now you want a pet?"
"No—I want to leave them in peace. And I'd really appreciate if you'd all agree not to hunt any lions until you can avoid those two."
"Your pets," Emmett insists.
Rosalie elbows him lightly. "Of course we will," she promises, and Carlisle, Alice, and Esme nod in agreement (Jasper doesn't bother nodding, but he won't hunt lions either; all non-human blood tastes the same to him).
Emmett folds his arms. "The only way I can promise not to kill your lions is to forgo all lions, permanently."
Bella cringes guiltily, but Rosalie gets in first before she can speak.
"It's fine, Bella. They're not that much better than deer anyway."
"Speak for yourself," Emmett complains. "But I'm prepared to give it up if—"
"No," I interrupt, confirming everyone's suspicion that he's proposing another proper arm-wrestling match.
"Let it go," Alice counsels him. "Bella will be stronger than you for months."
He harrumphs, but no matter how "biased" he thinks Alice is, he accepts that the current timeframe is too tight to shift the balance of power in his favor—and then he realizes there's a much worse threat on the horizon. "All right," he says quickly, "I'll stay away from mountain lions as long as you stay away from grizzlies!"
Bella winces, but nods. "I promise," she vows. "I've deprived Edward of his favorite, but—"
"You haven't," I insist. "I meant it when I said it's all the same to me now."
She searches my face for reassurance, hopeful but still not convinced, and I can't blame her; it wouldn't be the first time I withheld the absolute truth to spare her feelings.
Not knowing how else to reassure her, I reach out. Her hand rises, too, mirroring mine. Our fingers touch. My jumbled emotions are instantly silenced, and our combined lust surges through me.
Before I can even begin to process it, Jasper intervenes, sucking every ounce of good feeling from my body in his haste to counteract our passions. I sink to my knees, utterly bereft.
While Bella stands frozen, Jasper moves to my side and ruffles my hair, making up for his overly effective intervention by infusing me with a sense of profound joy—and a hefty dose of forgiving feelings—even as he marvels at Bella having thrown off his mental manipulation entirely.
"Edward knew what I was doing," he says, "and he couldn't stop it. But you pushed back. You blocked me."
"I know!" she replies, sounding equally surprised. "I felt it at first—like a black hole opened up inside me—but when Edward collapsed, I realized it was you, and I stopped it. Reversed it."
Although none of the others has experienced anywhere near that intensity of Jasper's emotional manipulation, they all know how overwhelming it can feel, and how impossible it is to resist—though the impressiveness of the feat would be greater if we didn't already have an example of Bella's innate ability to disrupt our gifts.
Carlisle is one who sees both aspects equally; her innate strength comes from her willpower. He chuckles. "I don't know why I'm surprised anymore—nothing is impossible for you."
Bella smiles and shrugs self-deprecatingly, then seeks out Rey's nearest hand, taking comfort in our daughter's quirky dream-thoughts.
After taking a deep breath, I brush Jasper's hand off me and stand up. "Next time, stay out of it." My tone comes out sterner than I'd intended, but no one—least of all Jasper—blames me.
You'd rather I let you get all worked up in front of everyone?
"I'd rather take my chances than go through that again."
"Sorry," he murmurs. "It caught me by surprise."
"I know," I agree, letting my forgiveness ring through my voice.
"I don't get it," Emmett speaks up teasingly. "Unless that's as far as you've gotten since Bella woke up?" Afraid she'll bite your 'head' off?, he taunts.
I shoot him a glare, but he is unrepentant—albeit a little surprised that Bella hasn't even looked up from Rey's face, let alone tried to chastise him. To the rest of us, though, it's clear she's taking a different approach.
"If your deals mean so little to you," she remarks, eyes still locked on Rey, "I won't waste my time making any more with you."
Emmett scoffs. "That didn't break our deal—there's nothing going on to mock."
"That's not because there's nothing going on," Alice objects—but only to join in the teasing. "They're already getting more adventurous."
"Alice," Bella warns.
She holds up her hands. "Let me just say, the river was a treat."
"No," Bella retorts. "Your opinion is not welcome."
Alice tries to pout, but she can't keep the grin off her face. When she goes to tell her about having waited decades to watch me let loose, I focus really hard on a future where I give her a Porsche for Christmas—and it isn't the one where she opens her mouth now. She gets a glimpse of the car and figures out the rest.
Aw, you know how much I love a good bribe, she gushes.
"I'm sorry, Bella," she says, acting all innocent. "I was defending you."
An eye roll is her immediate response, and then Renesmee throws an arm up and heaves a great sigh, distracting everyone as they all converge on her once more, curious to watch her dream.
In it, she is playing up high in a tree, with little birds flitting all around her, just out of reach. She imagines leaping from the branch and soaring alongside them, but doesn't because she is fully aware of her real body's limitations.
The others don't remember any of their own dreams, leaving Hollywood representations of dreaming as their only reference, so that awareness seems strange to them. I find myself wondering if Bella remembers any of her dreams—and whether that would be a good thing or not—but I'll wait till we're alone to ask her.
Esme is also thinking of the usefulness of our ability to stand in the same position indefinitely, which makes the seven of them crowding around Rey's little hands a nonissue; when Bella speaks, I wonder if she'd been inspired by a similar line of thinking.
"Imagine if Rey's gift were the exact opposite of Edward's—then we'd all hear her thoughts all the time. Except, from our perspective, that's the same as Edward's gift, not the opposite."
The thought experiment is an interesting one; Emmett doesn't see the point Bella's making, and Esme enjoys it but doesn't care to think any deeper into it, while the rest of us consider it in our own ways. For myself, I like the idea of Rey's gift being the same as mine, like a mirror rather than its opposite; I hadn't thought of it like that.
Rosalie thinks the quirky perspective is quintessential Bella. She puts an arm around her incredible sister. "Everything I used to hate about you, now I love. The way you see things—well, mostly, I thought Edward didn't deserve to have another worshipper. But I wrote you off as one of those pathetic mortals who think being immortal is so wonderful, without understanding what it really means, what it really costs."
Bella smiles. "I figured as much."
Rosalie hadn't anticipated such a relaxed response; it makes her wonder just how much she knows. "Did Edward—" she breaks off, not sure she does want to know (while also suspecting that I've shared all sorts of "private" things with her).
"Yes," I confirm. "I told her you volunteered to murder her."
She glances at Bella, dropping her arm as she struggles to reconcile her guilt and the uncomfortable feeling of humility at Bella's kindheartedness. "When?"
"On our first date," Bella says, her lips twitching into a little smirk, no doubt at the extreme unconventionality of our relationship.
Rosalie is stunned. "Why didn't you hate me?" she murmurs, thinking that if I told her that, I must have told her everything.
"Why would I?" Bella answers kindly. "I understood; I was a threat to your way of life, and I would've died if Edward hadn't intervened. It was harder for me when he explained just how unhappy you were with your life—but I still can't understand that."
"Me neither," Emmett quips.
She grins at him, then looks back at Rosalie. "I think it was because of you that Edward was so against changing me. If you hadn't been so anti-vampire, he wouldn't have found the will to leave me."
"I'm sorry."
Bella chuckles. "Thanks, but I wasn't finished—everything would be different if he hadn't left. Renesmee. Our relationship with the wolves. Me."
The point makes everyone consider my "misguided" abandonment from this new perspective. Rosalie suddenly sees the thread of fate woven through her whole life, mortal and immortal; Emmett wonders if I would've agreed to having sex with Bella before her change; Alice wonders if Bella would have married me while she was still human; Jasper sees a way to forgive himself for almost killing her and catalyzing my decision to leave; Esme wonders how different our child would be if we'd had a boy instead of a girl (because she doesn't think anything would be materially different aside from the timing of conception); and Carlisle is certain that I would have let James's venom work its effect.
Carlisle's assessment hits me the hardest. If I hadn't been so afraid of Bella becoming as bitter as Rosalie about our frozen life, would I have risked killing her myself?
Naturally, Emmett seizes the opportunity to question our sex life. "So, you wouldn't have asked for a real honeymoon while you were still human?"
"No," Rosalie speaks up. "She's saying it's thanks to me that Renesmee exists."
I laugh—trust Rosalie to claim all the glory, even if she does deserve more of it than I'd realized—and so does Bella, perhaps even for the same reason.
"I would've asked, of course," Bella remarks, unexpectedly allowing the conversation to continue, "but Edward would've refused."
"You're giving my self-control too much credit."
She quirks an eyebrow, clearly challenging the statement, and Emmett roars with laughter, waking Renesmee. As far as he's concerned, Bella's expression categorically confirms that she has commanded every aspect of our lovemaking from the very beginning.
Sensing Rey's obvious curiosity, Emmett eagerly tells her, "Mommy was just complaining about your daddy's lack of initiative."
"No, I wasn't," Bella retorts. "And you've overstepped your bounds."
Emmett holds up his hands in a gesture of surrender—one that isn't reflected anywhere in his smug expression or teasing thoughts, and I can't help wishing that Bella had held the threat of banning grizzly hunts over his head a little longer.
She fixes him with her steely gaze for another quarter-second, then shifts her attention to our sleepy daughter. "Go back to sleep, sweetheart," she murmurs, and with Jasper's gentle encouragement, Rey quickly succumbs.
As soon as Rey is asleep once more, before Emmett can test Bella's temper further, Alice raises the subject of inviting our cousins to meet Renesmee; while Bella and I were skinning the deer, she'd had a vision of Carlisle calling Tanya. "Once they hear Rey's story, her resemblance to an immortal child won't matter, but we should introduce them sooner rather than later. I had a vision of Carlisle inviting them to visit on October sixth."
Bella and Esme nod in unison, and the others are happy to accept Alice's conclusion, so Carlisle makes the call according to her instruction.
He and Tanya exchange a few pleasantries, and then he says that our plans have changed and we'd like to invite them all to meet our newest member.
Tanya interrupts immediately. "Bella is a newborn already?"
"Yes," he confirms without correcting her assumption.
"I hope nothing went wrong," she says with genuine concern; through Alice's vision, I know the rest of her family is equally shocked and concerned.
"Nothing they couldn't handle," Carlisle replies cheerfully. "Would October sixth work for you?"
"Yes, of course!" Tanya gushes; I don't know why, but Bella reacts with surprise. "We were already looking forward to getting to know our new cousin, and now we have even more in common. Please pass on our best wishes—to Bella and to Edward."
"Of course," he replies, settling for the simple answer lest he give away the unusual circumstances surrounding Bella's change or its cause, and hoping she is reassured.
As soon as he ends the call, Bella says, "I hope they don't think I don't want to see them."
"Not at all," Carlisle replies. "I'd say she was surprised it's so soon."
"Why?" Bella asks blankly, looking between Carlisle and me.
Carlisle can't help smiling, but he hesitates, unsure how to explain—so I jump in before Emmett does.
"They probably wish the delay were a little longer." When she continues to stare at us in silent bemusement, I prompt, "You can't think of any reasons you might be mad at any of them?"
A frown flits across her brow—accompanied by a small spike of what Jasper terms dissatisfaction—then disappears. She shakes her head. "I understand Irina's grief and Tanya's feelings; how could I be mad at them?"
Everyone smiles at that, except Jasper, who actually laughs.
"I cannot express how impossible you are," he declares. "If I didn't know you mean it, I'd swear you were lying—and most newborns struggle with that, too."
Bella's ongoing bemusement makes him laugh again, so I wave him silent.
"I don't think we've explained it very well," I tell her, "but newborns aren't known for their understanding."
"I'm not unique," she replies. "Especially not in this room."
"Not unique, no," I allow. "But by my count, there's you and there's Carlisle."
She glances around, seeming more swayed by the others' tacit endorsement than the claim itself, but I don't bother trying to convince her now; when the Denali clan arrives, I'm confident their amazement will be proof enough. So I change the subject. "When Rey wakes, shall we take the Ferrari for another spin?"
She smiles, but clearly not in accord. "I thought we were giving it to Seth," she teases.
"Not immediately."
"Rey might want it," Alice points out.
"You don't?" Bella asks wryly.
"I'm seeing a Porsche in my future," she says, grinning at me.
Bella glances between the two of us, then shakes her head. "You're both incorrigible."
"We know," I agree, pretending it's a compliment.
Bella purses her lips to conceal her amusement, then says, "Does Irina or Tanya like fast cars? The Ferrari could be like a peace offering…"
"What makes you think you need a peace offering?"
"You don't," Alice says, springboarding off my question. "Irina is the one who'll be apologizing."
"Laurent betrayed her," Bella insists. When Alice waves away the point, she adds, "Edward told me about all of you before I joined the family, and then I told the wolves about your gifts."
I'm not the only one shaking my head. "The treaty—"
"Is irrelevant. I gave Jacob information you hadn't shared with them, knowing he saw you as their enemies."
"You described what we can do in a very broad sense—and you lied about what Jasper can do."
Her brow furrows in bemusement. "I did?"
"You said he couldn't manipulate emotions 'in a bad way'."
She grins at that. "True. But the point still stands—you trusted me when I was in the same position as Laurent when Irina trusted him. You got lucky; she didn't."
While Alice simply snorts, Rosalie lays out an amusingly ironic counterargument.
"I didn't agree with Edward bringing you into our confidence," she says, "but it really isn't the same. I know I hassled him about it—" she flashes me a grin at the understatement—"but he didn't tell you about us until after you saw him stop that van from crushing you. Irina told Laurent things that weren't relevant to either of them, knowing his obsessive friend had just tried very hard to kill you." She can't resist adding, "And we already knew you were insane. Big difference."
Bella chuckles at that. "Any human who moves to Forks voluntarily is definitely insane," she agrees.
Rey starts to stir, drawing my attention; the others look, too, so they're confused when there's nothing outwardly different about her.
"She's waking up," I say, without explaining how I know that; they're still learning the signs, and I don't feel like playing teacher right now—unless Bella asks, of course.
"Does Renesmee know Irina's upset with me?" Bella asks quickly.
"No," I reply; at the same time, Alice says, "We're upset."
Ignoring Alice, she asks, "Does she know any of it?"
I nod. "We explained that Irina trusted someone she shouldn't have with our secrets, and that he almost killed you, but the wolves got him first."
She sighs a little wistfully, then smiles at our daughter as her eyes flutter open. "Good morning, sweetheart."
Rey beams up at her, instantly alert, and reaches for her face. They cuddle for a moment, before Rey greets the rest of us. She isn't feeling hungry yet, so Bella is the first to mention it; when she says that breakfast will have to be chilled, but Jacob is going to supply lunch, I'm torn between amusement that Jacob is lunch and irritation that he'll be here in a matter of hours.
While Rey drinks, Bella suggests that we read a book together. At the bookshelf, I love that Rey gravitates to the thick textbooks. Bella, chuckling, gestures for me to take the lead, so I draw Rey's attention to a physics one first, explaining that so much of physics is foundational to understanding everything else, and she laps up that logic.
Emmett scoffs. "Only nerds read textbooks for fun," he says in a heavily disparaging tone.
Rey brushes off the insult. She wants to know everything.
"Me, too, my lovely," I agree, giving her a big hug. "Let's find out everything together."
She beams at me, loving the idea, and we share a moment of profound joy at our kindred natures. For me, it is also deeply cathartic: she is so much like me, and that's not a bad thing.
While we sit down with our chosen textbook—University Physics—Rosalie and Emmett roll their eyes, then head outside. Bella listens with almost as much rapture as Rey, so I guide them both through the wonders of matter-energy interactions, providing further explanation and insights for facets that especially interest them.
After physics, we take a 'break' with linguistics—starting with a basic grounding, then studying the Indo-European family of languages, because Bella and Rey both want to learn Portuguese, so they can talk to Kaure when we eventually visit her. (Naturally, Rey wants to visit sooner rather than later, but the rest of us are torn: the sooner we visit, the sooner we can ease Kaure's worries about our "demon child"—because Esme's over-the-phone assurances didn't have as much effect as we'd hoped—and yet going anywhere before Rey is old enough to pass for an ordinary vampire risks exposing her to danger.)
Armed with a Portuguese dictionary, Alice's language and grammar book, an anthology of Portuguese poetry, and me as their tutor, they are able to hold an eloquent conversation in under an hour (though Rey's side of the exchange is still wholly telepathic). I can't decide what I love more: their random conversations about all the things they find interesting or when they turn to me for comment or further explanation—of the language or the subject matter. But I especially love the way they hang off my every word.
Next, we turn to biochemistry (not biology, because I'm in no hurry to explain the intricacies of reproduction!). All too soon—in fact, seventeen minutes earlier than agreed—Jacob's mind appears in mine. He is running here on two legs, because he comes bearing gifts: a wooden unicorn he carved for Rey and a conical seashell he carved for Bella. After clearing the air with Sam, he spent yesterday in long discussions with Billy and with Quil and Embry, and carving helped him relax while he mulled over their advice (and waited for permission to return here). He has actually developed something of an understanding of our disapproval, though that is mostly thanks to Quil, who has thought about his future with Claire from time to time, but only really when his pack-brothers thought about it; when he's with her, all he thinks about was making her happy then and there—unlike Jacob, who had dared to think of Rey being his future mate in the hearing of her mind-reading father! (Embry had laughed on and off for hours over that one.)
He knows he's early, so he promises to wait nearby—but he's banking on not having to, and he's right. The moment Bella hears his heartbeat—actually a split second before the rest of us—she looks in that direction, which inspires Rey to listen carefully until she picks it up as well.
Jacob isn't close enough to hear her giggle of delight, but her beaming smile and the joyful thoughts she so eagerly shares with him prove that she's about as happy to see him as he is to see her.
After presenting his gifts and receiving much praise in return, he thinks about whisking Rey away right now so he can quench her (currently non-existent) thirst.
"No, Jacob," I say before the thought gets any firmer.
It was just a thought, he grumbles. She wants my blood, and I want to give her whatever she wants.
"You're the grown-up—supposedly." Of course, Rey wants to know what we're talking about; Jacob goes to tell her, but I get in first. "I was just reminding Jacob that he can't use you as an excuse for his bad behavior."
I wouldn't ask him to be bad, she replies artlessly, so innocent that it makes my chest tighten with the most profound need to protect her from every bad thing in the whole world. He wouldn't say I did.
"When you're as tall as I am," I reply, teasing her a little to sidestep the serious aspect, "I'll trust your judgment."
She doesn't see the joke; her focus instantly leaps to calculating when that might be, based on her current rate of growth, and she is satisfied by the answer—one which makes Bella stiffen and Jacob shudder.
To hide his reaction, Jacob groans in mock despair. "How is it you're five days old and already better at math than me?"
She emits a glorious peal of laughter, and the sound warms all our hearts. She beams at Jacob, flattered by the joke—which she doesn't think is true. He nods to insist it is, and she laughs again, delighted.
His presence doesn't affect her desire to keep studying, though; she hasn't reached saturation yet. When Jacob turns up his nose at amino acids, she isn't worried—she already knows she can bend him to her will. To delay confirming that belief, I suggest a new topic that ought to interest him as well: myths and legends.
At first, he is almost insultingly surprised at this consideration on my behalf, but then he takes a breath and suggests sharing some of his tribe's history—the legends he'd once believed were just crazy stories and now knows to be historical fact. As he settles down beside Bella, who doesn't oppose Rey climbing into his lap and snuggling up in his warm arms, Jasper and I share a grin about this boy thinking nothing of sharing his tribe's precious knowledge with a houseful of vampires.
Rey hangs off his every word, fascinated by the spirit warriors and moved by the compassionate wolf who shared its body with the chief. Bella's equally rapt attention distracts him from time to time. His love for her is still very real; just as Sam still has feelings for Leah, Jacob still loves Bella. In a weird sort of way, his love for her has actually intensified following his imprinting; Rey only exists because of her, which makes her an extension of Rey—her source and her counterpart. Maybe that's why he sees (his version of) Rey's future so clearly. But that's still no excuse.
With such a captivated audience, Jacob happily talks for hours. He is proud of his heritage and delighted by Rey's appreciation of it, but even he needs a break eventually. Rey still wants more, though, so I take over, sharing other legends—starting with those of Ancient Egypt, because their views on death and the afterlife are fascinating.
As Jacob listens through the lens of Rey's thoughts, her love for me creeps inside him. I'm a little surprised by how little it bothers him.