The news about Victor didn't change a whole lot. I'd always known he'd be back sometime, and considering my usual luck, it didn't entirely surprise me that turned out to be sooner rather than later.
However, the fact I'd been half expecting it didn't stop me from continually shooting glances at the dark woods and jumping at small noises. As much as I wanted to act cool, I was in just about full-on freakout mode. Even though I'd about resigned myself to waiting to change until after graduation, now I was wondering if it might not be better to step up the schedule. No one could argue I'd be a whole lot more durable as a vampire than a pitiful human.
However, no one I talked to seemed to share my view of things.
"Look," Archie had said. "If Victor ever had the slightest, most miniscule chance of getting within twenty miles of you, I'd see it. There are seven of us, one of him. Besides, what would it do to your dad for you to suddenly drop off the face of the planet?"
When I tried to point out that Edythe's lying to me and dragging me out to Florida obviously seemed to contradict that, Archie had sighed and rolled his eyes.
"Really, man. Haven't you noticed yet that Edy has this occasional tendency to completely overreact?"
I would have argued further, but then Jessamine stepped in, using her curious talent of controlling emotions to take away all my anxiety and replace it with absolute calm. I felt reassured, at least until I left the room.
I even tried talking to Edythe, even though I was pretty sure I already knew her response. Somehow her answer was even more frustrating than Archie's.
She simply flashed a smile at me that showed her dimples. "You know I'll do it anytime—on one small condition. Shall we go down and talk to Charlie right now? Ring your mother up in Florida?"
I couldn't answer that. I'd tentatively already agreed to Edythe's condition, and I wasn't about to go back on my word—but that didn't change the fact that I was paralyzed with terror at the thought of telling my parents I was getting married.
It wasn't the commitment I was afraid of—as far as I was concerned, I considered myself bound to Edythe, and I hadn't the slightest bit of interest in playing the field or living up my bachelor years. But I'd been raised to feel getting married right after high school was about as irresponsible as you could get, and there would definitely be talk around town. Charlie and plenty of other people would probably assume Edythe was pregnant, and my mom would probably be shocked, even horrified after the innumerable rants and warnings she had given me growing up against the evils of early marriage.
Edythe knew, thanks to that, I wasn't going to push up the timetable for any reason—even to save my own life.
All in all, I had to say I'd had a pretty lousy week. And the weekend was slated to be the worst of all of it.
Edythe was going to be away. Whenever she was gone, the day seemed twice, three times as long. But as Archie had foreseen nothing out of the usual this weekend, I'd absolutely insisted she take the opportunity to go out and do some real hunting—Eleanor and Jessamine were headed up into the mountains, where the big game like bears and mountain lions were.
Edythe had been living on easy, nearby prey for a while now, and though I knew they sustained her, it was the big predators they all really craved. Going without them for too long would probably be like me trying to live on nothing but tofu—doable in theory, but it would probably only be so long before insanity set in. I didn't want to see Edythe having to sacrifice something she could enjoy doing with her family just to stay with me.
I was glad Edythe couldn't read my mind. Or know just how much I missed her whenever she left. Pathetically, some of the old nightmares I'd been tormented with every night when the Cullens had left Forks last fall would sometimes come back, and when I woke I'd have to run and throw up in the bathroom. It would always take me a minute to remember I wasn't still trapped in that living nightmare, that I wasn't still alone, broken.
I knew if Edythe had any idea, instead of shaking her head and telling me to get over it already—which I wouldn't blame her if she did—she would probably be afraid to leave at all, for any reason. It had kind of been like that in the beginning, when we got back from Italy. Her normally golden eyes had turned coal black with intense thirst, but she had never once complained, and I had eventually had to pull myself together enough to practically push her out the door, to prevent her from torturing herself more than she did already.
Still, I don't think Edythe was entirely fooled by my effort to put on a face of good cheer. When I dragged myself out of bed that morning, I found a note on my desk.
I'll be back soon. I doubt you'll be thinking of me half so much as I'll be thinking of you. I love you.
I read the note over several times, sighing to myself. I doubted that middle part was true, though if it was, it was probably because she had a full eight hours on me when I was asleep.
Either way, I was stuck with a big empty Saturday to fill. I had work in the morning at Newton's Olympic Outfitters, but it was a short shift, only a few hours. It wouldn't keep me distracted the duration of the day. I was really glad now I'd volunteered to help Allen help Becca with her graduation preparation, that would help, but unfortunately, that wasn't until the afternoon.
Archie's reassurances hadn't done much to cheer me up either.
"Sticking close to home to hunt this time," he'd said as he flashed a grin. "I'll be barely fifteen minutes away if you need anything—I'll be on the lookout for trouble."
I translated this to mean something like: Don't start getting ideas just because Edythe is gone. I can take out your truck just as well as she can.
So going down to La Push was out, not that I'd expected anything different.
As I got into my truck to go to work, I was thinking about the entire psychotic situation I was in. It wouldn't have to be like this if only the wolves and the vampires could get along. They all believed in the same thing, fought for the same thing—if only they could see it. The way they acted, you'd think they were both magnets with opposite charges. When you tried to force one to move, the other jumped away from it.
Grumbling to myself, I pulled out of the drive.
When I got to Newton's, McKayla was methodically clearing up dust bunnies with a dry mop, while her dad was working on a new counter display. Although McKayla was working in aisle two and her father was at the front counter, they were apparently carrying on an argument, still unaware that I had arrived.
"But it's the only time Taylor can go," McKayla insisted. "You promised after graduation—"
"No means no," Mr. Newton said sternly. "I don't want you girls anywhere near Seattle until the police get to the bottom of whatever it is going on down there. I know Buck Crowley said exactly the same thing to Taylor, so there's no point making me out to be the bad guy. That's my final word."
Mr. Newton spotted me and his frown quickly turned to a good-natured smile. "Ah, good morning, Beau. You're here early."
Kevin Newton never exactly looked like a sports-outdoor enthusiast. He was always immaculately well groomed and dressed smart, often in a suit and tie, so he looked more like a business executive just come from an office meeting than the kind of guy you'd expect to see out backpacking trails.
"Light traffic," I joked as I went and grabbed my orange vest from under the counter.
"Ah, Beau—" Mr. Newton began. He shifted uncomfortably, picking up a stack of fliers and tapping the sides to straighten them.
I stopped what I was doing to look at him.
"I meant to call you," he said. "I doubt we're going to see much business today. McKayla and I can probably handle things here..."
I hesitated. It made sense. I'd already let the Newtons know I wouldn't be available to work this summer—essentially ditching them in their busiest season—so they'd already started training Kyle Marshall to take my place. So more and more on slow days they'd been sending me home early. They couldn't afford to have too much extra help on the payroll.
Normally I would have been happy at the prospect of having the entire morning free. But today...
"I'm sorry you got up and drove out," he said.
"Oh...okay." Slowly I began getting back out of my vest.
"That's not fair, Dad," McKayla jumped in. "He's already here. You can't just—"
"It's okay," I said quickly, not wanting to be a source of further familial discord. "I've got...some other stuff to do..."
Mr. Newton smiled at me apologetically. "Sorry again. Hey, you mind tossing these in the dumpster on your way out? I told the boy giving them out I'd leave them on the counter, but there's not room."
"Sure, no problem." I put my vest away, then tucked the stack of fliers under my arm and headed out into the misty rain.
I shuffled slowly around the side of Newton's where the dumpster was situated, next to the small space where employees were supposed to park, roughly kicking aside stones as I went. I was just about to toss the fliers in the trash when the bolded caption across the top caught my eye.
SAVE THE OLYMPIC WOLF
I stared down at it for a minute, startled. I felt my throat contract unexpectedly. Under the words, there was a detailed drawing of a wolf, head thrown back in the act of baying at the moon. However, it was something in the wolf's posture that caught my attention. Its eyes closed, its forelegs slightly bent, as though in defeat. As though its howl were a howl of grief.
I could hear the mournful sound in my ears, in my head—and suddenly I was sprinting for my truck. I threw myself in, hurling the fliers across the passenger's seat, and turned the key in the ignition at the same time I ripped my belt from the holder and snapped it into the place in record time. In the next second, I was tearing out of the parking lot like the devil was on my heels.
Fifteen minutes—that was what I had. But it was barely fifteen minutes to La Push from here, and I should pass the boundary line before I hit town.
Archie couldn't have foreseen this, because I'd only decided a moment ago. That was the one flaw, the weak point of his power—he couldn't see anything until I decided. Snap decisions—I should have seen it before.
I barreled down the wet highway, turning the windshield wipers up to high and ignoring the groan of the ancient engine. I wasn't going to get more than fifty-five out of my old clunker; I could only hope it would be enough.
I didn't know exactly where the boundary line was, but I relaxed a little as I began to pass the first houses outside La Push. I doubted Archie would be allowed to follow me here.
I'd give him a call when I got to Becca's that afternoon. That way he'd know nothing bad had happened to me. I really didn't want him to be ticked off at me if he didn't have to be. After all, Edythe's wrath when she got back was probably going to be enough for ten vampires.
My truck was positively wheezing by the time it grated to a stop in front of the familiar faded red house. I was surprised by the flood of emotion that filled me as I stared at the place that I had spent so much time. The place that, once upon a time, had been my favorite in the world.
Before I'd even turned off the engine, Jules was there in the doorway, her mouth hanging open in shock.
I pulled the key out and the sudden silence was deafening. We stared back at each for a minute. I coughed nervously.
"Beau?" she said, face still slack with dumbfounded surprise.
"It's me," I admitted.
She gaped at me for a second longer. Then her face suddenly split into the wide grin I'd been waiting for, like the sun breaking through clouds. Her teeth flashed white against her deep russet skin.
"No way!" she exclaimed, taking a step forward, then breaking into a run. In a second she was standing beside the truck. "No freaking way."
"Way," I said, grinning as I climbed out of the truck and slammed the door behind me.
Jules slapped me on the back so hard I doubled up wheezing, then she threw an arm around my shoulders.
"I don't believe it," she said, still grinning so wide I thought it might stretch right off her face. "How did you do it?"
"Broke out," I said casually. I tapped my temple. "Superior intellect."
She laughed and punched me on the arm. "You got lucky," she guessed. "But even still, taking advantage of luck takes guts. You are awesome! Five thousand man points! Ten thousand! That puts you above Superman, Batman, and Hugh Jackman combined."
"Hey there, Beau."
We turned to see Bonnie had rolled herself into the doorway to see what all the commotion was about.
"Hey, Bonnie." I was sure my grin was as big as Jules's.
"So good to see you here," said Jules, arm still draped around my neck, the other hand on my shoulder, shaking me with such enthusiasm that my teeth rattled.
"Good to be back," I said.
Jules looked up at me for a moment. The smile on her face faded slightly, but it remained in her dark eyes, even deeper than before, burning with real emotion.
She said in her low, husky voice, "Welcome back, Beau."
And the way she said it made it sound like welcome home.
The pair of us were too amped up to sit still, and we set off for a walk, jabbering a mile a minute as we worked to get caught up. I wanted to know what she had been up to the last few weeks, and she wanted to know what I'd been up to, what had brought me here and how long I had.
However, I knew eventually we'd have to get to the harder stuff, and as we ambled past the back of the general store and shoved through the thick shrub that ringed the far edge of First Beach, some of our initial excitement wore off, and her face settled into the mask of hard bitterness I was beginning to know better than I liked.
"So," she began, voice almost airy, but with an unmistakable edge. "Everything's just back to the way it was then? You forgave her, and let her back in like nothing happened. After what she did to you."
I didn't really want to talk about this. But I knew after everything she'd done for me during that dark time, I owed it to her.
"I don't blame her for anything," I said in a low voice. "Not then, and not now. There was nothing to forgive."
Jules gave a harsh, incredulous laugh. "You don't really feel that way. Not completely. I mean—you should have seen yourself. You were a train wreck. If she did to you physically what she did to you emotionally, she would be put in prison."
I didn't like arguing with Jules. I also didn't like the way she talked about Edythe, but if we were going to come to an understanding, I knew I had to keep it calm. I owed her this explanation.
"Edythe had her reasons," I said evenly. "It's my fault for reacting the way I did. She didn't know...She only did it because she was trying to do what was best. For me."
Jules sneered. "Sure she was."
I continued, ignoring her, "She thought it was dangerous for me to be around vampires. She was afraid something bad would happen—she wanted me to have a shot at a normal life. She didn't tell me that when she left, but that was why."
Jules hesitated. Clearly she hadn't quite been expecting that. She gazed out at the horizon for a moment, toward the waves lapping at the damp sand. At last she shook her head. "Even if it really was for a reason like that," she said in a low voice, "she still didn't tell you the truth, did she?"
I looked away. "She did it for me."
"Just like she didn't tell you about that red-haired bloodsucker for you?"
I didn't answer, just stared out at the waves.
"Look," Jules said. "I'm not saying she doesn't care about you—in her own twisted, sicko vampire way—but how can you trust her? How do you know she won't leave you again? It's not like she ever asks for your opinion. Think about it, she controls your entire life. You couldn't even come here without having to sneak away from her."
I still didn't reply. For the first time, I felt the tiniest flare of frustration. I felt like she could understand Edythe if she tried—how strong she was, how self-sacrificing. Looking at it all objectively, Edythe had always been kind and mature, and I was the irresponsible one. But she refused to even try to see it.
Jules must have read what I was thinking, because she let out a breath like a sigh, then she stepped around me, so she was blocking my view of the ocean. Her face had relaxed and she was smiling, and though it wasn't quite the same smile of the Jules that was my best friend, it was closer than a moment before.
"Don't sulk. You know I'm always going to tell you like it is. Or at least, how it looks to me. You never have to guess what I'm thinking."
"Sometimes a little mystery might be a welcome change," I muttered. However, I didn't really mean it, and as Jules set off down the beach, I followed.
She came to a stop next to a huge piece of driftwood—an entire tree, roots and all, bleached white and beached deep in the sand. A lot of memories were tied up in this place. It was our tree—in a way, at least.
Jules took up a seat on the natural bench, and gestured for me to join her, still grinning.
"So," she said, resting her elbow on one of the nearby dead branches. "I was just thinking. I never did get the full story. You and the psychic bloodsucker rushed off in a dead panic, and that's just about the last time we really talked. What happened? How did you keep from getting eaten?"
"It's kind of a long story," I warned. However, I was relieved we weren't on quite such a sensitive topic that was liable to set off an argument.
"I can have a long attention span," she answered, grinning. "When I want to."
I grinned back, then shook my head. "Okay, well, you know how Archie—sees things?"
I tried to keep the story short, as I explained about Archie's vision of Edythe, quickly recounting our race to Italy, and my desperate run through the square in Volterra.
Jules's face was pensive as I talked, but just before I reached the part where Edythe and I were reunited, she interrupted me.
"Wait, go back to the beginning for a minute. So, the little psychic dude had a vision you killed yourself, so when she heard about it, she ran off to kill herself. All because he didn't see you being rescued."
I nodded. "Right, because Archie doesn't see you in his visions."
Jules considered that for a minute, then her mouth split into a wide grin. "Huh. Well, that's definitely good to know. Awesome."
I frowned at her. "You know, if you keep interrupting, we're never going to get through this."
"Sure, sure. Go on."
Next I tried to describe the Volturi, and Sulpicia.
At the mere mention of them, Jules shuddered, nostrils flaring, her teeth gritted. I knew what Jules's feelings were, but I was determined to relay the story as accurately as I could.
"To be honest, she wasn't at all what I expected for a leader of the vampires," I said thoughtfully. "She seemed...reasonable. At least all things considered. She seemed like she wanted to be fair." I added, "But maybe there was more to what was going through her head than I saw, because Edythe never relaxed an inch the entire time."
"Filthy bloodsuckers," Jules muttered furiously under her breath. "Sick, depraved, stinking leeches."
"Anyway," I said, ignoring her. "In the end, she let us go." I decided it was better to leave out her ultimatum and the approaching deadline—no need for Jules to be losing sleep the way I was. "We all got home intact. That's the story."
I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees, and glanced back up at her. "Now, I've got a question for you. What exactly went down while I was with my mom in Florida?" I knew I could trust Jules not to worry about freaking me out, and I wanted to get some more detail.
Jules grinned hugely, and her dark eyes glinted. "Oh, that. Well, basically, Quil, Em, and I were out doing our rounds on Saturday night—just running around our land, looking for anything unusual, like we always do—when, out of nowhere, we suddenly ran right into a fresh trail. Not even fifteen minutes old. Course, Sam wanted us to wait for her to get there with backup, but I had no idea you were gone, or if the bloodsuckers were keeping an eye on you, so we went for it. We took off after him at full speed. Unfortunately, he crossed the treaty line before we could get to him. We spread out along the line, hoping he'd cross back over, but when the Cullens chased him back to our side, he came through too far north. We could have had him if only we'd known where to wait..."
Jules shook her head. "That's where things kind of got dicey. Sam and the others got there before we did, but the bloodsucker was sticking right to the line, like he knew where it was. Meanwhile, the entire coven of Cullens was right there, on the other side. That buff female—"
"Eleanor?"
"Yeah, her. She made a lunge for him, but he's slippery as an eel, and he was too fast. She shot past him and right toward Paula—almost slammed right into her. And, well...you know how good Paula is at keeping her cool."
I nodded, too tense to speak.
"Paula went berserk, and sprang—I can't blame her, if one of them came barreling at me like that, I'd react, too—but Paula missed and the female got back to her side. But by then, that huge blond..." She made a face that was at once both loathing and with just a touch of grudging admiration.
"Royal," I put in.
She rolled her eyes. "Whatever his name is. He got territorial. So Samantha and I had to fall back to get Paula's back. Then their leader and the smaller blond female—"
"Carine and Jessamine," I inserted.
Jules gave me an exasperated look. "Do you want me to finish or not?"
I shrugged. "It's your fault you don't even know their names."
"I know them," she said, wrinkling her nose. "I just don't feel like using them." She continued, "Anyway, so the leader—Carine, whatever—talked to Sam, tried to get things calmed down. Then everyone sort of got really mellow all of a sudden. We all knew it was the other one you talked about, messing with our emotions. But we couldn't fight it at the time. Just as well maybe, because Carine and Sam were able to agree that the slimy redhead was the priority. Carine gave us the line, so we could follow the scent properly, but then he hit the cliffs just north of Makah country and took off into the water again. Again, it was right where the boundary line was. They wanted permission for a couple of them to follow him onto our side, but we said no of course."
I nodded. "Course you did." As always, the werewolves were determined to be stupidly paranoid where the Cullens were concerned—however, in a way, I was relieved they had. It was sickening, thinking of my vampire family going up against Victor, even if they did have him outnumbered. All it would take was one mistake or moment of carelessness for someone to get hurt, perhaps killed.
"So, that's everything," Jules completed. Her lip suddenly curled into a sneer. "So what did she tell you? That those mongrels just suddenly went out of control again on her poor, innocent—"
"No," I said coolly, cutting her off. "She told me the same story you did, just not so much detail."
Jules grunted. She bent and picked up a pebble from the many under our feet and, casually, without even standing up, sent it flying a good hundred meters out into the bay.
"Well, he'll be back," she said confidently. "We'll have another shot at him."
I felt a shiver down my spine. She was right, of course—Victor would be back. Would Edythe really tell me the next time? I couldn't be sure. All I could do was keep an eye on Archie, watch for the pattern to repeat. And of course, I knew Jules would tell me. Even if I couldn't always get out to La Push, maybe Jules would answer my phone calls now. Edythe couldn't consider phone calls dangerous.
I looked up to see Jules was gazing out at the waves, a pensive expression on her face.
"What are you thinking about?" I asked.
She glanced at me, then laughed a little uneasily. "You probably don't want to know."
I raised my eyebrows. "I thought I never had to guess what you were thinking, because you would always tell me."
She laughed at that, then shook her head.
"I guess I'm just thinking about how things might have easily gone a different way. Back then. When your psychic leech buddy—okay, Archie—saw you jump, that set off everything. But if you'd waited for me like you were supposed to, we'd still be where we were back then. We'd probably be back in my garage right now, or out riding our motorcycles. It would just be us. No vampires." Her tone was wistful.
I stared out at the waves, too. At last I said quietly, "I can't wish it had turned out that way."
Jules sighed, then laughed, though it had a bitter edge. "I know that."
A moment of silence passed. Then she said, "I know you're glad she's back. I know you feel like it's better. But there may come a day when you realize it wasn't better. That you would have been better off without her."
"I doubt it." I couldn't keep the sudden chilly edge from my voice.
Again, we sat in silence for a long minute, staring out at the gently crashing waves. The smell of brine was thick on the air, and burned my eyes.
"Hey," Jules said suddenly. "Look at that."
I followed her gaze, and I saw an eagle, plunging from the sky from an incredible height. At the last moment, it spread its wings, talons raking the water, and when it rose into the air again, a fish was clutched in its claws, still wriggling feebly.
Jules abruptly got to her feet, arms folded. "I don't get it," she said suddenly. "I really don't."
"Don't get what?"
She turned back to face me. "Don't you get it, Beau? You are prey to them. You're just like that fish to that eagle. An antelope to a lion. A goose to a fox—every second they're around you, they have to fight the urge to kill you. At the back of her mind, you make her mouth water. They're monsters, Beau. I know you think these ones are better, and maybe they are—marginally—but they're still what they are. How can you sit next to her and know a part of her is thinking of you like a roast turkey, and not feel your skin crawl?"
I lifted my eyes to regard her evenly. "Edythe can't help what she is. Any more than you can. What counts is what she's decided to do with her existence. And she's—she's better than anyone I've ever met. Kind and unselfish and—just plain good. No, I don't get freaked out being near her—the thought of being even a little freaked out is weird to me. Why is that hard to understand?"
Jules looked away from me. "It just is. I don't understand how you...can choose someone who's not even human."
I felt my temper flare, and a laugh escaped me before I could stop it. It wasn't a nice laugh.
"So who do you expect me to choose, Jules? McKayla Newton? If I have to stick to my own species, that doesn't leave me a lot of options."
A flash of hurt crossed her face, and her eyes dropped. "I'm human," she muttered.
I sighed. "Look, I don't care about that. I told you. Vampire, wolf, human, cockroach—it's all the same to me. We're all...people. Sentient beings. We all have feelings just the same."
"I guess so," Jules said quietly. Her eyes still didn't meet mine. Her head was bent, and in her face, I could see the pain, standing out in sharp relief.
"Jules," I said quietly. I got up slowly from the tree and went to stand beside her, putting my hand on her shoulder. This was why I was here, and why I would bear whatever reception waited for me when I got back. Because beneath all the bravado and bitter mockery, Jules was suffering. I couldn't close my eyes and turn away—I had to help her. Because once long ago she had helped me, and even more than that, I just couldn't stand it. She was my best friend, and her pain was my pain. There was no changing that now.
After a long moment, Jules glanced down at my hand, then up at my face.
"How are you, Jules?" I said quietly. "Charlie said you've been...having a rough time."
Jules looked away again. "I'm okay."
"You said I never had to guess what you were thinking," I reminded her again gently.
She choked out a laugh, then shook her head. "No, really. I'm...managing."
I shook my head. "You really are going to make me guess."
I hesitated, suddenly remembering something. "You mentioned Quil before," I said tentatively. "So I guessed she's changed, huh? How is she taking it?"
To my surprise, Jules suddenly laughed. "Quil," she said, making a face. "We all thought she would hate it—being out in the woods all the time, turning into a big, smelly animal. But she's honestly ecstatic. She preens and struts around like she thinks she's some kind of show dog. Though mostly I think she's just glad to be in on the secret. You know, part of the in crowd."
I stared back at her. "Seriously?"
"Yeah, I know. All that worry for nothing. I was almost ticked at her for that."
I was still trying to get my head around it. "She...likes it?"
Jules nodded. "To be honest, most of them do—after they get used to it. There are plenty of great things you get in the deal. Power, speed, freedom—and just being part of a common cause, having a family to watch your back. Sam was bitter for a long time, but I think she's mostly accepted it now. So I guess I'm the only holdout. Still kicking up a tantrum."
I had to admit, I was curious. Questions popped up in my mind, one after another, and I had to choose what to ask first.
"What exactly happened to Sam? I know she was the first to change...alone. Is that why she hated it so much at first?"
Jules shrugged. "Partly. It's kind of complicated."
I thought of Edythe waiting for me on the other side, like the angel of judgment, and I said quickly, "I'm not in any hurry, believe me."
Jules glanced at me, and she seemed to read the implication in my voice. "She going to be ticked at you when you go back?"
"Really ticked," I admitted. I felt the need to add, a little defensively, "She's worried I'd be in danger here. Hanging out with werewolves and all."
"You could just not go back," Jules suggested. "Our couch is open."
I snorted. "Great idea. Until she comes here looking for me."
Jules stiffened slightly. "Would she really? Come onto our land, break the treaty?"
I stared out at the ocean, more seriously. "I really think she would. If she thought I might be hurt or something."
Jules's smile was back, fiercer than before. "I wish she would," she said with relish. "I'd like to get her down here—or any of them, really."
I glared at her. "That's not funny."
She smiled even wider at my expression, leaning back casually, relaxed. "Then good thing I wasn't trying to be."
I shook my head. "Look, I don't expect the two of you to become best friends. But you have no idea how much better I'd feel if you two didn't always act so ready to kill each other."
Jules sat up and, if anything, this seemed to please her. "Does she seem ready to kill me, too?" she asked eagerly.
I opened my mouth to respond, but then stopped. I realized I didn't know exactly how to answer. Edythe had once talked about killing Jules in the context of keeping me safe, but that didn't mean Edythe actually wanted to kill her. But, Edythe hadn't tried to conceal her open dislike.
At last I said, "Edythe wouldn't hurt you. She knows you're my friend."
Jules smiled. "In other words, if you didn't care what happened to me, she'd have no problem ripping my throat out. The darling angel. That's nice to know—she can't stand me almost as much as I can't stand her."
Her tone was so delightedly nasty and condescending I abruptly pulled away from her and turned my back to her. I felt my fist clench at my side.
"Come on, come back," Jules said in a placating tone. "You want to find out about Sam, don't you?"
I didn't answer, and Jules continued, "There was kind of a lot of drama surrounding the whole wolf thing. I mean, we're all already dealing with plenty of drama as it is, but finding out you turn into a huge wolf makes your life as a teenager even more complicated. And Sam's not really a high drama kind of person, so I think that made it worse."
I stood there, tense for a minute more, before I sighed and turned back. We both meandered back to sit on the tree, though I kept a few feet between us.
"What you're going to tell me is gossip, isn't it?" I muttered. "Pack gossip."
Jules grinned. "Maybe. But I think I can trust you not to spread it around. And treat the parties involved with understanding and respect."
I rolled my eyes. "If you're going to tell me, just tell me."
"Okay." Jules sat up a little straighter. "I guess I'll start at the beginning. You know Sam was the first of us to change. But she had it a hundred times worse than the rest of us, because she was alone, and didn't have anyone to tell her what was happening. Her grandparents died before she was born, and her mom was pretty flighty. She took off less than a year after Sam was born, and didn't even bother to tell Sam's dad about the possibility of the change before she went. The first time it happened—the first time Sam phased—she was sure she'd lost her mind. It took her two weeks to calm down enough to change back."
Jules leaned back on her arms, and continued. "This all happened before you came to Forks, so you wouldn't have heard about it, but at the time, there was a big search for her. Her dad—usually quiet, mellow kind of guy—had the rangers out combing the forests, and the police were involved. She'd always been big on nature and hiking, so they thought she might have gone out and gotten lost, or been in an accident, or that an animal had gotten her...Lee Clearwater was out of his mind, he was out there himself whenever he got the chance, always down at the police station to see if they had any news."
"Lee?" I said, frowning. Lee was Holly Clearwater's son. The thought of the Clearwaters made me fall silent for a second in respect. Holly Clearwater had passed away of a heart attack just this past spring.
"Yeah," Jules said with kind of a sigh. "Lee and Sam were together. About three years or so, all through high school."
I was startled at this. "This was...before Elliot?" I knew it shouldn't come as such a surprise—most people fell in and out of love many times in their lives. But there had been something about Sam and Elliot. They seemed so close. So—natural.
"You could put it that way," Jules said. "I'll get to that part later. So...anyway. Samantha miraculously reappeared. But she wouldn't say a word about where she'd disappeared to, not to anyone, and all kinds of rumors flew, everything from she'd been abducted by some psycho to she'd run off to a big city somewhere to live the wild life. Luckily, Quil's grandmother came over for a visit to see Mr. Uley one afternoon, and when she touched Sam's hand, she knew—the wolves were back."
Jules smiled a little.
"Things were a little better for Sam after that. The three elders—Old Quilla Ateara, my mom Bonnie, and Holly Clearwater all had seen their grandmothers make the change, and they knew all about the Quileute bloodline's weird powers. So they met with Sam and explained everything. She knew she wasn't going to be the only one affected by the vampires' return, so she simply waited—to see who would be next to change."
I didn't know how to respond. The Cullens had unwittingly triggered the transformation of Samantha, and later the others, when there had been peace for a generation. It made me feel uneasy. It felt like if my family had inadvertently hurt them, it as partly my responsibility, too.
"Samantha really hates them, you know," Jules said suddenly, as though she had heard what I was thinking. "For coming here. For causing her to change. She knew where her life was going before that—she had plans. She was going to go to college, make a life for herself. But she was forced to abandon it all. It changed where her life was headed...her entire fate."
"It wasn't intentional," I said quietly. "They didn't know."
Jules scoffed. "Sure makes a lot of difference now."
We were silent for a long minute. At last I said, "So, you said things were getting better, once the elders were involved. So what happened then? What about Lee and Elliot?"
Jules considered for a moment. "Yeah, things were better. But..."
Her brow furrowed, and she looked away. "She still had to keep her secrets. We aren't permitted to tell anyone who doesn't have to know, so she couldn't tell Lee a thing. Technically, she wasn't even supposed to be around him, it wasn't safe—she wasn't really in control yet. But she went to see him anyway, like I did you. Even though she couldn't tell him anything, not where she'd vanished to for two weeks, not where she went every night, and not why she was so tired all the time, she did whatever she had to just to see him.
"Lee was frustrated, he hated it—he wanted to know what was happening so he could help her. But, he cared about her enough that when Sam asked him to just trust her, he did. He stopped asking questions, and just accepted it."
"What happened?" I asked. "Did he find out the truth? Is that what made them split up?"
Jules shook her head. "I think Sam would have preferred it happened that way. No, it was more complicated than that."
Jules drew in a slow, even breath.
"Well, while all this was going on, Elliot Young—Lee's cousin—came down from the Makah reservation for a visit."
"They're cousins?" I said, startled.
Jules nodded. "Though to be honest, they were more like brothers. They grew up together as kids, and kept in contact even when they were apart. Lee confided in Elliot what had been going on and Elliot saw just how much of a toll it was taking on him—the longer time went on, the more Lee was starting to think Sam was involved in something really dangerous. Elliot wasn't usually the interfering type, but Lee was like a brother to him, and he made up his mind to do something. He thought if he could only meet Sam, he might convince her to tell Lee what was going on—if only she knew how hard all this was on him.
"Elliot had never met Sam, but he probably kind of felt like he knew her, because he'd heard so much about her from Lee. It was the same for Sam—she'd never met Elliot, but she'd heard about him from Lee."
I didn't like the place this story was heading, but I kept my mouth shut.
"So," Jules continued, "Elliot went down to the Uley house, and managed to catch Sam just before she was about to leave on her nightly patrol. She tried to brush him off, but he kept at it, and convinced her to take a walk with him.
"Well, he told her everything he'd set out to. How much this was all hurting Lee, and how, whatever was going on, she had to tell him. She couldn't go on keeping secrets like this, no matter how bad they were. He told her to just trust Lee with the truth, and he wouldn't let her down.
"Hearing all that was hard on Sam, and it made her angry. Especially since she knew it didn't change anything. She just told him to mind his own business, and was about to leave. Elliot grabbed her arm, and asked how, when Lee loved her so much, how she could not care—and she exploded."
Jules's eyes were faraway, and I could see the anguish in them—anguish from the memories she had experienced herself in Sam's mind.
"Like I said, she still wasn't in control then," Jules said quietly. "What Elliot said set her off, and she phased—right there. Elliot was probably lucky he wasn't killed. But he was still badly hurt. Samantha...she still has nightmares about that night. She'd never really realized just how dangerous she was until she saw herself hurt somebody—somebody that Lee cared about. She phased back almost immediately, but she was crying, almost hysterical—she carried him to the medical clinic on the reservation, without even thinking about how people might wonder how she could be so strong.
"Lee found out about it. It didn't take him too long to understand that Sam somehow blamed herself, even though everyone was told that Elliot had been out on the edge of the woods, and a bear wandering unusually far from its territory had mauled him. Again, Lee knew there was something Sam wasn't telling him, but like always, she didn't say anything.
"Meanwhile, the three elders met with Elliot. They explained everything, and he was sworn to secrecy, just like Sam.
"Through everything, Elliot never blamed Sam. He told her not to apologize for something she hadn't meant to do, that was outside her control, and he said he'd at least partially brought it on himself. He stopped trying to convince Sam to tell Lee the truth, but he did everything he knew to try to help their relationship. He encouraged Lee, kept telling him to just keep supporting Sam, trust her, and she was one of the best people he could know."
Jules sighed deeply.
"I think, in the end—and Sam thinks, too—it was the fact that Lee didn't know, and Elliot did. At least partly. Lee did his best to support her with what he knew, but just the fact that she had to keep the secret from him was a strain on her. But Elliot was supportive, kind, understanding—he was doing it for Lee's sake, trying to stand in for Lee and doing what he knew Lee would want done for Sam if only he could know the secret, and maybe because Elliot's just a nice guy. But at some point—I don't think any of them knows just when—things shifted. Sam's heart changed...and it was Elliot's support she needed more than Lee's."
I shook my head slowly. I had to admit, it was pretty bad.
"They were like brothers," I muttered to myself. "Brothers. Maybe her intentions weren't bad, but...how could she...?"
Jules sighed and shook her head. "It's not what you think. Sam didn't just call Lee up one day to break up and flit on over to Elliot. See, Elliot and Sam were probably in love long before either of them realized it—and it was Lee who saw it first. He'd always been pretty good at reading people, and he saw the shift as it was happening, but he couldn't do anything about it. He did his best to pretend it wasn't happening for awhile, but eventually Lee made the decision to leave her—he left her so she wouldn't have to continued to feel bound to him. Lee broke up with Sam, and he told her the reason why—that she was in love with Elliot.
"Sam denied it at first. She fought Lee hard, tried to convince him it wasn't true, and tried her best to get him back. But, at some point, she really realized that Lee was right about her feelings for Elliot. Elliot, for his part, had fallen for her, too, but never for a moment even considered acting on them—but when Sam finally accepted how she felt, things just kind of happened."
Jules shook her head. "You can't even imagine how Sam felt. See, Sam has this thing about honor—it's something she gets from her dad. She thinks you should always do the right, honorable thing, no matter how you feel. But, when it came to this...she lost control. Her feelings betrayed Lee. If Lee hadn't forced her to face up to it, she probably never would have acknowledged how she really felt—because for Sam, acting dishonorably was the worst thing imaginable. Even now, she still hates herself for what she did to Lee."
I sat for a long minute in silence, trying my best to digest all that.
"So," I said slowly. "Sam blames the wolf thing for all this."
Jules nodded. "In a way, yeah. Like I said, she feels like the wolf thing changed her fate. Turned her from the path her life would have taken originally. The wolf thing forced her into keeping a secret from Lee and that drove a wedge between them—they just couldn't be as close as they were before, and Lee couldn't support her like he wanted to. Knowing the secret, Elliot could support Sam in a way Lee couldn't."
Jules suddenly shrugged. "But, who knows. Maybe Elliot and Sam were soul mates or something, so even without the whole mystical tribal werewolf thing, they would have ended up falling for each other anyway. But I see why Sam feels like she does. Like, if not for the vampires who changed her into a wolf, things might be different now. One less person hurt and heartbroken."
Again we sat, quiet, gazing out at the ocean.
At last I said, "Love can be complicated."
"Tell me about it," Jules muttered.
"So how do you know all this?" I asked, just to break the silence.
Jules shrugged. "I told you, while we're wolves, we share a mind. So we see Sam's thoughts and she sees ours. She would never have told us any of this—but the whole pack knows about it."
I nodded. "Yeah, I know. But how do you know so much about what Lee was thinking? Is that just what Sam guessed?"
"Yeah, sure," said Jules, a little too quickly, looking away.
I eyed her suspiciously, but before I could ask anymore, she sighed.
"You know, it's probably just about the worst thing about being a wolf. No privacy, no secrets. You can't even keep other people's secrets. Most everyone tries to be cool about it, because we're all in the same boat, but if anyone ever wants to make a problem..."
"She knows everyone's weaknesses," I completed grimly. I shuddered. "That really does sound like the worst part of the deal. For your own head not to be safe."
"It is sometimes helpful when we need to coordinate," she allowed. "Occasionally. I just wish we had more control of what the others heard and saw. Then it would be awesome. Instant, silent communication over any distance."
She glanced at me curiously. "But isn't it like that for you all the time? Her inside your head?"
I laughed. "No way. As much as she wants to—or think she wants to—she can't hear my thoughts. I'm the only one she's met like that. I can't believe I didn't tell you that."
Jules considered that. "Weird. Cool, but weird."
"She's not the only one," I continued, getting just a little smug now. "When we were in Italy, there were other vampire powers that didn't work on me either. Like...Sulpicia can read every thought you've ever had just by touching you. But when she tried it on me, it didn't work. And..." I hesitated. Maybe it wasn't a good idea to bring up Jonathan in front of Jules.
Jules looked at me, then grinned. "Wow, you are awesome. Either you've got some kind of wicked super power, or maybe your brain is just different from the rest of humankind. Like, there's something wrong with it."
"We have considered that possibility," I admitted ruefully.
"I bet that drives her absolutely crazy," Jules said, looking happy at the thought.
I grinned a little. "I think it does."
"Course, doesn't matter to me, since I can always tell what you're thinking," she said complacently, leaning back against the tree. "Maybe you're weird weird, but unfortunately for you, I happen to be fluent."
I tried to frown, but I heard myself laugh instead. I looked over at her, smiling.
"I'm glad I came to see you today, Jules."
She smiled back. "Me too. Hope you don't get reamed too badly."
I sighed. "Don't worry, I'll stand and take it like a man. Stoic and everything."
Jules snorted. "I'll bet you will. She'll probably have grovelling at her feet, swearing you'll never do it again."
"Come on," I said, annoyed. "Give me more credit than that."
"Will you come again then?" she challenged, though beneath the playful accusation, there was a note of real worry in her voice. A touch of longing, desperation.
"I don't know," I answered.
Jules looked away.
I grinned. "See, what Archie sees in the future is based on decisions. He said he was going to be just fifteen minutes away, but when I was at work, I just suddenly made up my mind to make a break for it, since I knew I was less than fifteen minutes from the boundary line. So right now...not sure if I'm going to come see you again, next time Edythe's away. Right now, I'm thinking probably not. But if the weather's good...conditions are right...I might just abruptly change my mind."
Jules threw her arms around me, squeezing so hard all the air rushed from my lungs and I was almost certain I felt a rib crack.
"You are awesome, Beau. So awesome."
"Great," I gasped.
Jules let go of me, but as she pulled back, her hands lingered for a moment, one on my shoulder, the other on my back. Her smile faded slightly and her dark eyes were deep with emotion. Through my shirt, I could feel the heat of her skin burning against mine.
"I really missed you, Beau," she said softly.
"I missed you, too," I admitted.
I suddenly looked down at my watch, then sighed. "I really should be going."
She blinked. "But you just got here."
I nodded. "Does feel like it. But I told Allen I'd help him out with something, plus I know Archie's probably getting edgy by now...I don't want to push it too much."
Jules reluctantly pulled away from me, though her hand found mine and she squeezed it gently. "You'll come back soon?" she asked.
I smiled. "Maybe. I haven't decided yet."
Jules's answering smile was brilliant, warm and completely free of the mockery and bitterness that I knew from my memory.
"It's a promise. See you soon, Beau."
"A promise," I repeated, and I knew my own smile was just as wide as hers.