Authors: Book 3
Jacob's eyes flashed up to mine. "He thought you were the one person in the world with as much reason to hate the Cullens as he does. Sam feels sort of . . . betrayed that you would just let them back into your life like they never hurt you."
I didn't believe for a second that Sam was the only one who felt that way. And the acid in my voice now was for both of them.
"You can tell Sam to go right to -"
"Look at that," Jacob interrupted me, pointing to an eagle in the act of plummeting down toward the ocean from an incredible height. It checked itself at the last minute, only its talons breaking the surface of the waves, just for an instant. Then it flapped away, its wings straining against the load of the huge fish it had snagged.
"You see it everywhere," Jacob said, his voice suddenly distant. "Nature taking its course - hunter and prey, the endless cycle of life and death."
I didn't understand the point of the nature lecture; I guessed that he was just trying to change the subject. But then he looked down at me with dark humor in his eyes.
"And yet, you don't see the fish trying to plant a kiss on the eagle. You never see
that
." He grinned a mocking grin.
I grinned back tightly, though the acid taste was still in my mouth. "Maybe the fish was trying," I suggested. "It's hard to tell what a fish is thinking. Eagles are good-looking birds, you know."
"Is that what it comes down to?" His voice was abruptly sharper. "Good looks?"
"Don't be stupid, Jacob."
"Is it the money, then?" he persisted.
"That's nice," I muttered, getting up from the tree. "I'm flattered that you think so much of me." I turned my back on him and paced away.
"Aw, don't get mad." He was right behind me; he caught my wrist and spun me around. "I'm serious! I'm trying to understand here, and I'm coming up blank."
His eyebrows pushed together angrily, and his eyes were black in their deep shadow.
"I love
him
. Not because he's beautiful or because he's
rich
!" I spat the word at Jacob. "I'd much rather he weren't either one. It would even out the gap between us just a little bit - because he'd still be the most loving and unselfish and brilliant and
decent
person I've ever met. Of course I love him. How hard is that to understand?"
"It's impossible to understand."
"Please enlighten me, then, Jacob." I let the sarcasm flow thick. "What
is
a valid reason for someone to love someone else? Since apparently I'm doing it wrong."
"I think the best place to start would be to look within your own species. That usually works."
"Well, that just sucks!" I snapped. "I guess I'm stuck with Mike Newton after all." Jacob flinched back and bit his lip. I could see that my words had hurt him, but I was too mad to feel bad about that yet. He dropped my wrist and folded his arms across his chest, turning from me to glare toward the ocean.
"I'm human," he muttered, his voice almost inaudible.
"You're not as human as Mike," I continued ruthlessly. "Do you still think that's the most important consideration?"
"It's not the same thing." Jacob didn't look away from the gray waves. "I didn't choose this." I laughed once in disbelief. "Do you think Edward did? He didn't know what was happening to him any more than you did. He didn't exactly sign up for this."
Jacob was shaking his head back and forth with a small, quick movement.
"You know, Jacob, you're awfully self-righteous - considering that you're a werewolf and all."
"It's not the same," Jacob repeated, glowering at me.
"I don't see why not. You could be a
bit
more understanding about the Cullens. You have no idea how truly good they are - to the core, Jacob."
He frowned more deeply. "They shouldn't exist. Their existence goes against nature." I stared at him for a long moment with one eyebrow raised incredulously. It was a while before he noticed.
"What?"
"Speaking of unnatural . . . ," I hinted.
"Bella," he said, his voice slow and different. Aged. I realized that he sounded suddenly older than me - like a parent or a teacher. "What I am was born in me. It's a part of who I am, who my family is, who we all are as a tribe - it's the reason why we're still here.
"Besides that" - he looked down at me, his black eyes unreadable - "I
am
still human." He picked up my hand and pressed it to his fever-warm chest. Through his t-shirt, I could feel the steady beating of his heart under my palm.
"Normal humans can't throw motorcycles around the way you can." He smiled a faint, half-smile. "Normal humans run away from monsters, Bella. And I never claimed to be normal. Just human."
Staying angry with Jacob was too much work. I started to smile as I pulled my hand away from his chest.
"You look plenty human to me," I allowed. "At the moment."
"I feel human." He stared past me, his face far away. His lower lip trembled, and he bit down on it hard.
"Oh, Jake," I whispered, reaching for his hand.
This was why I was here. This was why I would take whatever reception waited for me when I got back. Because, underneath all the anger and the sarcasm, Jacob was in pain. Right now, it was very clear in his eyes. I didn't know how to help him, but I knew I had to try. It was more than that I owed him. It was because his pain hurt me, too. Jacob had become a part of me, and there was no changing that now.
5. IMPRINT
"ARE YOU OKAY, JAKE? CHARLIE SAID YOU WERE HAVING a hard time. . . . Isn't it getting any better?"
His warm hand curled around mine. "'S not so bad," he said, but he wouldn't meet my eyes. He walked slowly back to the driftwood bench, staring at the rainbow-colored pebbles, and pulling me along at his side. I sat back down on our tree, but he sat on the wet, rocky ground rather than next to me. I wondered if it was so that he could hide his face more easily. He kept my hand.
I started babbling to fill the silence. "It's been so long since I was here. I've probably missed a ton of things. How are Sam and Emily? And Embry? Did Quil -?"
I broke off mid-sentence, remembering that Jacob's friend Quil had been a sensitive subject.
"Ah, Quil," Jacob sighed.
So then it must have happened - Quil must have joined the pack.
"I'm sorry," I mumbled.
To my surprise, Jacob snorted. "Don't say that to
him
."
"What do you mean?"
"Quil's not looking for pity. Just the opposite - he's jazzed. Totally thrilled." This made no sense to me. All the other wolves had been so depressed at the idea of their friend sharing their fate. "Huh?"
Jacob tilted his head back to look at me. He smiled and rolled his eyes.
"Quil thinks it's the coolest thing that's ever happened to him. Part of it is finally knowing what's going on. And he's excited to have his friends back - to be part of the 'in crowd.'" Jacob snorted again. "Shouldn't be surprised, I guess. It's so
Quil
."
"He
likes
it?"
"Honestly . . . most of them do," Jacob admitted slowly. "There are definitely good sides to this - the speed, the freedom, the strength . . . the sense of – of
family
. . . . Sam and I are the only ones who ever felt really bitter. And Sam got past that a long time ago. So I'm the crybaby now." Jacob laughed at himself.
There were so many things I wanted to know. "Why are you and Sam different? What happened to Sam anyway? What's his problem?" The questions tumbled out without room to answer them, and Jacob laughed again.
"That's a long story."
"I told you a long story. Besides, I'm not in any hurry to get back," I said, and then I grimaced as I thought of the trouble I would be in.
He looked up at me swiftly, hearing the double edge in my words. "Will he be mad at you?"
"Yes," I admitted. "He really hates it when I do things he considers . . . risky."
"Like hanging out with werewolves."
"Yeah."
Jacob shrugged. "So don't go back. I'll sleep on the couch."
"That's a great idea," I grumbled. "Because then he would come looking for me." Jacob stiffened, and then smiled bleakly. "Would he?"
"If he was afraid I was hurt or something - probably."
"My idea's sounding better all the time."
"Please, Jake. That really bugs me."
"What does?"
"That you two are so ready to kill each other!" I complained. "It makes me crazy. Why can't you both just be civilized?"
"Is he ready to kill me?" Jacob asked with a grim smile, unconcerned by my anger.
"Not like you seem to be!" I realized I was yelling. "At least
he
can be a grown-up about this. He knows that hurting you would hurt me - and so he never would. You don't seem to care about that at all!"
"Yeah, right," Jacob muttered. "I'm sure he's quite the pacifist."
"Ugh!" I ripped my hand out of his and shoved his head away. Then I pulled my knees up to my chest and wrapped my arms tightly around them.
I glared out toward the horizon, fuming.
Jacob was quiet for a few minutes. Finally, he got up off the ground and sat beside me, putting his arm around my shoulders. I shook it off.
"Sorry," he said quietly. "I'll try to behave myself." I didn't answer.
"Do you still want to hear about Sam?" he offered.
I shrugged.
"Like I said, it's a long story. And very . . . strange. There're so many strange things about this new life. I haven't had time to tell you the half of it. And this thing with Sam - well, I don't know if I'll even be able to explain it right."
His words pricked my curiosity in spite of my irritation.
"I'm listening," I said stiffly.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the side of his face pull up in a smile.
"Sam had it so much harder than the rest of us. Because he was the first, and he was alone, and he didn't have anyone to tell him what was happening. Sam's grandfather died before he was born, and his father has never been around. There was no one there to recognize the signs. The first time it happened - the first time he phased - he thought he'd gone insane. It took him two weeks to calm down enough to change back.
"This was before you came to Forks, so you wouldn't remember. Sam's mother and Leah Clearwater had the forest rangers searching for him, the police. People thought there had been an accident or something. . . ."
"Leah?" I asked, surprised. Leah was Harry's daughter. Hearing her name sent an automatic surge of pity through me. Harry Clearwater, Charlie's life-long friend, had died of a heart attack this past spring.
His voice changed, became heavier. "Yeah. Leah and Sam were high school sweethearts. They started dating when she was just a freshman. She was frantic when he disappeared."
"But he and Emily -"
"I'll get to that - it's part of the story," he said. He inhaled slowly, and then exhaled in a gust. I supposed it was silly for me to imagine that Sam had never loved anyone before Emily. Most people fall in and out of love many times in their lives. It was just that I'd seen Sam with Emily, and I couldn't imagine him with someone else. The way he looked at her . . . well, it reminded me of a look I'd seen sometimes in Edward's eyes - when he was looking at me.
"Sam came back," Jacob said, "but he wouldn't talk to anyone about where he'd been. Rumors flew - that he was up to no good, mostly. And then Sam happened to run in to Quil's grandfather one afternoon when Old Quil Ateara came to visit Mrs. Uley. Sam shook his hand. Old Quil just about had a stroke." Jacob paused to laugh.
"Why?"
Jacob put his hand on my cheek and pulled my face around to look at him - he was leaning toward me, his face was just a few inches away. His palm burned my skin, like he had a fever.
"Oh, right," I said. It was uncomfortable, having my face so close to his with his hand hot against my skin. "Sam was running a temperature."
Jacob laughed again. "Sam's hand felt like he'd left it sitting on a hot stovetop." He was so close, I could feel his warm breath. I reached up casually, to take his hand away and free my face, but wound my fingers through his so that I wouldn't hurt his feelings. He smiled and leaned back, undeceived by my attempt at nonchalance.
"So Mr. Ateara went straight to the other elders," Jacob went on. "They were the only ones left who still knew, who remembered. Mr. Ateara, Billy, and Harry had actually seen their grandfathers make the change. When Old Quil told them, they met with Sam secretly and explained.
"It was easier when he understood - when he wasn't alone anymore. They knew he wouldn't be the only one affected by the Cullens' return" - he pronounced the name with unconscious bitterness - "but no one else was old enough. So Sam waited for the rest of us to join him. . .
."
"The Cullens had no idea," I said in a whisper. "They didn't think that werewolves still existed here. They didn't know that coming here would change you."
"It doesn't change the fact that it did."
"Remind me not to get on your bad side."
"You think I should be as forgiving as you are? We can't all be saints and martyrs."
"Grow up, Jacob."
"I wish I could," he murmured quietly.
I stared at him, trying to make sense of his response. "What?" Jacob chuckled. "One of those many strange things I mentioned."
"You . . . can't . . . grow up?" I said blankly. "You're what? Not . . .
aging
? Is that a joke?"
"Nope." He popped his lips on the
P.
I felt blood flood my face. Tears - tears of rage - filled my eyes. My teeth mashed together with an audible grinding sound.
"Bella? What did I say?"
I was on my feet again, my hands balled up into fists, my whole frame shaking.
"You. Are. Not. Aging," I growled through my teeth.
Jacob tugged my arm gently, trying to make me sit. "None of us are. What's wrong with you?"
"Am I the only one who has to get
old
? I get older every stinking day!" I nearly shrieked, throwing my hands in the air. Some little part of me recognized that I was throwing a Charlie-esque fit, but that rational part was greatly overshadowed by the irrational part.