it can't be undone. Esme's made do with us as 
substitutes . . . and Alice doesn't remember anything human so she can't miss it. . . . You will 
remember, though. It's a lot to give up." 

But more to get in return,I didn't say aloud. "Thanks, Rosalie. It's nice to understand . . . to 
know you better." 

"I apologize for being such a monster." She grinned. "I'll try to behave myself from now on." 

I grinned back at her. 

We weren't friends yet, but I was pretty sure she wouldn't always hate me so much. 

"I'll let you sleep now." Rosalie's eyes flickered to the bed, and her lips twitched. "I know 
you're frustrated that he's keeping you locked up like this, but don't give him too bad a time 
when he gets back. He loves you more than you know. It terrifies him to be away from you." 
She got up silently and ghosted to the door. "Goodnight, Bella," she whispered as she shut it 
behind herself. 

"Goodnight, Rosalie," I murmured a second too late. 

It took me a long time to fall asleep after that. 

When I did sleep, I had a nightmare. I was crawling across the dark, cold stones of an 
unfamiliar street, under lightly falling snow, leaving a trail of blood smeared behind me. A 
shadowy angel in a long white dress watched my progress with resentful eyes. 

The next morning, Alice drove me to school while I stared grumpily out the windshield. I 
was feeling sleep-deprived, and it made the irritation of my imprisonment that much stronger. 

"Tonight we'll go out to Olympia or something," she promised. "That would be fun, right?" 

"Why don't you just lock me in the basement," I suggested, "and forget the sugar coating?" 

Alice frowned. "He's going to take the Porsche back. I'm not doing a very good job. You're 
supposed to be having fun." 

"It's not your fault," I muttered. I couldn't believe I actually felt guilty. "I'll see you at lunch." 

I trudged off to English. Without Edward, the day was guaranteed to be unbearable. I sulked 
through my first class, well aware that my attitude wasn't helping anything. 

When the bell rang, I got up without much enthusiasm. Mike was there at the door, holding 

 

it open for me. 

"Edward hiking this weekend?" he asked sociably as we walked out into the light rain. 

"Yeah." 

"You want to do something tonight?" 

How could he still sound hopeful? 

"Can't. I've got a slumber party," I grumbled. He gave me a strange look as he processed my 
mood. 

"Who are you -" 

Mike's question was cut short as a loud, growling roar erupted from behind us in the parking 
lot. Everyone on the sidewalk turned to look, staring in disbelief as the noisy black 
motorcycle screeched to a stop on the edge of the concrete, the engine still snarling. 

Jacob waved to me urgently. 

"Run, Bella!" he yelled over the engine's roar. 

I was frozen for a second before I understood. 

I looked at Mike quickly. I knew I only had seconds. 

How far would Alice go to restrain me in public? 

"I got really sick and went home, okay?" I said to Mike, my voice filled with sudden 
excitement. 

"Fine," he muttered. 

I pecked Mike swiftly on the cheek. "Thanks, Mike. I owe you one!" I called as I sprinted 
away. 

Jacob revved his engine, grinning. I jumped on the back of his seat, wrapping my arms tightly 
around his waist. 

I caught sight of Alice, frozen at the edge of the cafeteria, her eyes sparking with fury, her lip 
curled back over her teeth. 

I shot her one pleading glance. 

Then we were racing across the blacktop so fast that my stomach got lost somewhere behind 
me. 

"Hold on," Jacob shouted. 

 

I hid my face in his back as he sped down the highway. I knew he would slow down when 
we hit the Quileute border. I just had to hold on till then. I prayed silently and fervently that 
Alice wouldn't follow, and that Charlie wouldn't happen to see me. . . . 

It was obvious when we had reached the safe zone. The bike slowed, and Jacob straightened 
up and howled with laughter. I opened my eyes. 

"We made it," he shouted. "Not bad for a prison break, eh?" 

"Good thinking, Jake." 

"I remembered what you said about the psychic leech not being about to predict whatI'm 
going to do. I'm gladyou didn't think of this - she wouldn't have let you go to school." 

"That's why I didn't consider it." 

He laughed triumphantly. "What do you want to do today?" 

"Anything!" I laughed back. It felt great to be free. 

 

8. TEMPER 

WE ENDED UP ON THE BEACH AGAIN, WANDERING AIMlessly. Jacob was still full 
of himself for engineering my escape. 

"Do you think they'll come looking for you?" he asked, sounding hopeful. 

"No." I was certain about that. "They're going to be furious with me tonight, though." 

He picked up a rock and chucked it into the waves. "Don't go back, then," he suggested 
again. 

"Charlie would love that," I said sarcastically. 

"I bet he wouldn't mind." 

I didn't answer. Jacob was probably right, and that made me grind my teeth together. 
Charlie's blatant preference for my Quileute friends was so unfair. I wondered if he would 
feel the same if he knew the choice was really between vampires and werewolves. 

"So what's the latest pack scandal?" I asked lightly. 

Jacob skidded to a halt, and he stared down at me with shocked eyes. 

"What? That was a joke." 

"Oh." He looked away. 

I waited for him to start walking again, but he seemed lost in thought. 

"Isthere a scandal?" I wondered. 

Jacob chuckled once. "I forget what it's like, not having everyone know everything all the 
time. Having a quiet, private place inside my head." 

We walked along the stony beach quietly for a few minutes. 

"So what is it?" I finally asked. "That everyone in your head already knows?" 

He hesitated for a moment, as if he weren't sure how much he was going to tell me. Then he 
sighed and said, "Quil imprinted. That's three now. The rest of us are starting to get worried. 
Maybe it's more common than the stories say. . . ." He frowned, and then turned to stare at 
me. He gazed into my eyes without speaking, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration. 

"What are you staring at?" I asked, feeling self-conscious. 

He sighed. "Nothing." 

 

Jacob started walking again. Without seeming to think about it, he reached out and took my 
hand. We paced silently across the rocks. 

I thought of how we must look walking hand and hand down the beach - like a couple, 
certainly - and wondered if I should object. But this was the way it had always been with 
Jacob. . . . No reason to get worked up about it now. 

"Why is Quil's imprinting such a scandal?" I asked when it didn't look like he was going to 
go on. "Is it because he's the newest one?" 

"That doesn't have anything to do with it." 

"Then what's the problem?" 

"It's another one of those legend things. I wonder when we're going to stop being surprised 
that they'reall true?" he muttered to himself. 

"Are you going to tell me? Or do I have to guess?" 

"You'd never get it right. See, Quil hasn't been hanging out with us, you know, until just 
recently. So he hadn't been around Emily's place much." 

"Quil imprinted on Emily, too?" I gasped. 

"No! I told you not to guess. Emily had her two nieces down for a visit . . . and Quil met 
Claire." 

He didn't continue. I thought about that for a moment. 

"Emily doesn't want her niece with a werewolf? That's a little hypocritical," I said. 

But I could understand why she of all people might feel that way. I thought again of the long 
scars that marred her face and extended all the way down her right arm. Sam had lost control 
just once when he was standing too close to her. Once was all it took. . . . I'd seen the pain in 
Sam's eyes when he looked at what he'd done to Emily. I could understand why Emily might 
want to protect her niece from that. 

"Would you please stop guessing? You're way off. Emily doesn't mind that part, it's just, 
well, a little early." 

"What do you meanearly ?" 

Jacob appraised me with narrowed eyes. "Try not to be judgmental, okay?" 

I nodded cautiously. 

"Claire is two," Jacob told me. 

 

Rain started to fall. I blinked furiously as the drops pelted my face. 

Jacob waited in silence. He wore no jacket, as usual; the rain left a spatter of dark spots on 
his black T-shirt, and dripped through his shaggy hair. His face was expressionless as he 
watched mine. 

"Quil . . . imprinted . . . with atwo-year-old ?" I was finally able to ask. 

"It happens." Jacob shrugged. He bent to grab another rock and sent it flying out into the 
bay. "Or so the stories say." 

"But she's a baby," I protested. 

He looked at me with dark amusement. "Quil's not getting any older," he reminded me, a bit 
of acid in his tone. "He'll just have to be patient for a few decades." 

"I . . . don't know what to say." 

I was trying my hardest not to be critical, but, in truth, I was horrified. Until now, nothing 
about the werewolves had bothered me since the day I'd found out they weren't committing 
the murders I'd suspected them of. 

"You're making judgments," he accused. "I can see it on your face." 

"Sorry," I muttered. "But it sounds really creepy." 

"It's not like that; you've got it all wrong," Jacob defended his friend, suddenly vehement. 
"I've seen what it's like, through his eyes. There's nothingromantic about it at all, not for 
Quil, not now." He took a deep breath, frustrated. "It's so hard to describe. It's not like love 
at first sight, really. It's more like . . . gravity moves. When you seeher, suddenly it's not the 
earth holding you here anymore. She does. And nothing matters more than her. And you 
would do anything for her, be anything for her. . . . You become whatever she needs you to 
be, whether that's a protector, or a lov