I don't know exactly when I fell asleep—because one minute I was riding along on Edythe's back, teetering on the edge of consciousness, and the next I was waking up in my bed.
Blearily, my gaze flickered to the windows—the dull light was slanting in at a strange angle, almost like it did in the afternoon.
I shook my head and slowly sat up, stretching my arms above my head. They were stiff as boards.
"Edythe?" I said in a croaky, scratchy voice, rubbing the back of my neck.
I felt a cool hand slide over mine, and I turned to see Edythe sitting on the bed beside me, her legs folded underneath her. Her smile was dazzling, too bright to look at this early in the morning, and I blinked.
"Um, good morning," I said, still a bit groggy.
"Good morning," she answered. "Are you really awake this time?"
I pinched my arm to check. "I think so. What do you mean this time?"
Edythe shrugged. "You've been restless...talking in your sleep. Almost all day."
I was embarrassed, until I processed that last part. I frowned. All day?
I turned to stare at my clock on the nightstand, then my eyes returned to my window—where the light was definitely pouring in from the west.
I spun back on her. "And you just let me—lay here?" I demanded. "Why didn't you wake me up?"
"You didn't sleep at all last night," Edythe reminded me. "You needed your rest. And you're probably hungry too, now. It's approaching twenty-four hours since your last meal." She smiled. "How does breakfast in bed sound?"
"I'll get it," I said quickly as my stomach gave an audible rumble, and I swiveled my body around to put my feet on the floor.
Edythe followed me as I marched a little too quickly down the hall, and she reached out a hand to steady me when I swayed a bit with vertigo as I was heading down the stairs.
I generally tried to stop Edythe from doing things like cooking for me, doing my laundry, or any of my other household chores—not that she hadn't tried. Sometimes I thought if Edythe had her way, not only would I be going to Dartmouth, driving a Ferrari and have all the most chic designer clothes like some kind of movie star, but I wouldn't have to lift a finger around the house and she'd have everything done all the time as if I was some kind of king with a house full of servants.
I knew Edythe could take care of everything in a tenth of the time it took me, and have it done exactly the way I wanted it—but since cooking and housework were some of the only things I really felt I knew how to do, I wanted to do them.
I tried to think as little as possible about our pending nuptials—I still needed to tell Charlie and my mom, but I had been mega-stalling, especially where my mom was concerned—but when I did think about us married...whatever kind of husband I turned out to be, I didn't want to be the kind who sat around, waited on hand and foot. I wanted to help, I wanted to do what little I could.
"Are you sure you don't want me to fix you something?" Edythe asked, eying the pair of Pop-Tarts in my hand doubtfully as I slotted them into the toaster. I hadn't felt up to making anything else.
"I'm sure," I said. "I could use the sugar right now."
I went to sit at the table to wait for them to heat.
Something Allen had said, back when we'd been helping Becca address her announcements, drifted back to me. If Edythe needed help with something, you'd be there, wouldn't you?
But Edythe never needed help with anything. The few times I'd seen her desperate, and she'd needed assistance with something—like now, on the verge of an attack by a newborn army—it wasn't something I could help her with. Jules, her mortal enemy, was a bigger help to her and her family than I was. I was just a liability that had to be protected. Just what was I contributing to this relationship anyway? What kind of boyfriend was I?
Edythe was watching me carefully, and of course she immediately picked up on my sudden gloom. She reached over and put a hand on mine.
"What's wrong?" she asked, lowering her head so she could peer up into my face, and she was directly in my sight line so I couldn't avoid her gaze.
I shook my head. "Nothing. Maybe I'm not totally woken up yet."
Edythe's eyes flickered down to our joined hands. She paused, and she bent slightly to get a better look at something.
It took me a second to realize it was Jules's leather bracelet, still on my wrist.
Her hand slowly lifted off of mine, and instead the tips of her fingers drifted toward it, almost curiously. However, she hesitated, glancing back up at me as though looking for permission. When I didn't object, she slowly, delicately slipped her fingers under the tiny wooden charm, holding it up to the western sunlight pouring in through the window, so she could examine the fine, almost realistic detail. Her thumb came up to tilt the figurine so she could see it from all angles.
I realized my entire body was tense as I watched her. As though I were afraid that, at any moment, she might crush it into splinters.
But of course her touch was gentle, her eyes pensive. She was still gazing at it with a faraway look in her eyes when she murmured, almost to herself, "You are...so inconsistent sometimes."
I felt my stomach tighten.
Edythe sighed, finally letting the charm fall back into place, then lifted her eyes to gaze at me.
"Apparently," she said, fingers laced together on the table, like a principal bringing up an issue at a board meeting, "Julie Black is permitted the liberty of giving you gifts."
I didn't answer. She was obviously thinking about my last birthday, when I'd tried to declare it a no-present year, and been adamant I'd didn't want or need anything. I'd finally bent a little and allowed I would accept one small gift, so long as she hadn't spent any money.
The corners of Edythe's mouth were turned up as though she were amused, but there was a touch of hurt in her eyes she couldn't seem to suppress.
"And it's not only Julie Black," she continued. "You let other people give things to you...do things for you...but not me. I'm always the exception. I want to get you things...I would have liked to get you a graduation present. But I didn't, because I knew you wouldn't like it. And it's only to me—no one else. Why is that?"
Allen's words were coming back to me again, and my eyes dropped. I felt heat crawling up my neck. "Because," I muttered. Then I sighed, and forced myself to look back up at her and meet her eyes.
"Because..." I said slowly. "I want to be the one to give you things. I want to be the one to do things for you."
Edythe didn't seem to know how to respond for a second. She only stared at me, her face blank with surprise. She finally shook her head.
"But," she said softly, earnestly, "you do give me things, Beau. Everyday. You give me everything."
It was a ridiculous thing to say, but Edythe's face was perfectly serious.
I stared back at her for a second, then let my eyes drop again. After a minute, I got up and took my Pop Tarts from the toaster, putting them on a plate.
"By the way," she said, and her voice had come back up to a normal tone. In fact, I thought I detected a steely edge in her voice, and when I turned to look, I found her surveying me through narrowed eyes.
I chewed my breakfast with deliberate slowness. I swallowed, then said at last, "What?"
"Archie called earlier."
I was nonplussed. "I'm glad you had something to do while I was in dreamland."
Edythe folded her arms. "Is there anything you'd like to tell me? Any decisions you've made recently that might put you in unnecessary, obscene danger?"
I hesitated, then sighed. It sounded like Archie had already told her anyway. "Jessamine seems to think I could help."
Edythe's teeth clenched, and she muttered something that sounded like an oath. Then she said, "There's no point putting you in danger. I told you, there's more than enough of us to take care of them all, and one of us could probably sit out and it wouldn't make a difference. To put you there..."
She paused, and a shiver went down her spine. "...would be absolutely pointless."
"Jessamine thought it would give you a strategic advantage," I argued. "In a battle, you need every advantage you can get, or if something goes wrong, someone could get hurt—killed. Jessamine knows that. This isn't a game where you can play it over if something you didn't anticipate happens, or some unexpected factor throws a wrench in the works."
Edythe mouthed wordlessly for a second, then said sharply, "Something could go wrong. You could get hurt or killed. Whatever advantage we might or might not have isn't worth that risk."
I tried not to let it, but I could feel my temper rising. "What if I decide to be there anyway?" I asked. "Sarah doesn't want to be left behind while everyone she cares about is out there fighting either. I bet she would take me there."
A sharp, derisive laugh escaped her. "Oh, right," Edythe said scathingly. "I'm sure you're so desperate to put your life at risk that you'd put a young girl in danger, too."
She added, "Besides, it won't help anything for you to simply show up—the way Jessamine saw it having any benefit is if we knew exactly where you are, and we were ready to take advantage of the resulting chaos. And honestly, I think the advantage would be slight—they will be stirred up enough by your fresh scent there. But just as a precaution, I'll tell Samantha to give Sarah very specific orders. Even if she wants to, she can't ignore injunctions from the Alpha."
"If you can convince her to give those orders," I said stubbornly. "But maybe Samantha would see things Jessamine's way. She would want to do what's best for the pack...give them the best chance."
"Perhaps," Edythe said coolly. Then she suddenly smiled. "But there are alternatives. I could speak to Julie Black, for instance. Even if Sam might not, she would give the order."
This brought me up short. "Jules?" I repeated, confused.
"She's the beta," Edythe continued smugly, "the second in command. So her orders have to be obeyed as well. But she never told you that, did she?"
I paused, stymied, first by this new strange revelation, and then by the slow realization that we were not going to be using Jessamine's plan. I was going to be stuck somewhere safe, while the people I cared about most were going to be out risking their lives. And either one or both might not come back. Between Jules and Edythe, they had me trapped.
I slowly got up from the table, and went to stand by the window, my arms folded, my back to her. I gazed out at the sky outside, a mixture of dreary gray and just the beginning of an angry red.
Edythe was still smug with victory, and she was relaxed now.
"Last night I had a fascinating look into the pack's mind," she said conversationally. "The complex dynamic caused by such a large pack...The constant pull of the individual against the plural psyche. In some ways it made better entertainment than a soap opera."
Edythe was obviously trying to distract me, but I didn't look at her. I just continued to stare out the window.
"Julie Black's been keeping more secrets from you than you think," she said softly.
I felt suddenly exhausted—beaten. My shoulders slumped and my head sagged. "Like what?" I muttered at last.
Maybe Edythe noticed my mood, because her voice seemed gentler as she said, "Almost entirely things she simply wasn't allowed to share—when Sam gives the pack an order as the Alpha, they can't ignore it. Before yesterday, their numbers was a secret. Which is why she didn't tell you about Sarah...or Lee."
It took me a second to process that last name. I slowly turned to gape at her. "Did you just say—" I began incredulously. "But—I thought only girls turned into wolves. It's part of the legend. It's the whole reason why their tribe is matriarchal."
Edythe shook her head. "Apparently there are just some things the old legends couldn't have prepared them for."
Lee as a werewolf...I thought about being the only guy in a group of girls with a connected psyche, and shuddered. He'd definitely gotten the raw end of the deal there.
"But he knows the secret now," I mused aloud. "Only Elliot knew before...I wonder if he'll try to win Sam back now?"
Edythe shook her head. "I don't think so," she said. "Especially now that he can see inside her mind."
Edythe didn't give any further explanation, and I took that to mean that, whatever was in Sam's thoughts, he would see absolutely now that it was hopeless.
What a bad situation—at least before, Lee could quietly suffer on his own, in the peace and safety of his own head. Now, as Jules had said, everything he felt was laid out for Sam and all the rest to see...Bitterness, shame, regret...
"That's sick," I murmured. "It's..." I couldn't think of a strong enough word to describe it.
Edythe nodded. "Although—Lee has not been a passive sufferer by any means."
My eyes had drifted away in thought, but now my gaze flickered back to her. "What does that mean?"
"That is, he's been making every effort to make life as miserable as possible for the others. Sharing thoughts is an uncomfortable experience, so generally they all try to cooperate, make things easier. If even one is deliberately malicious...well, knowing all someone's secrets make a powerful weapon if your intent is to twist the knife."
I didn't want to hear anymore. It didn't seem right—us seeing into Lee's secrets just like the rest of the pack did.
"Do you want to hear the rest of the pack gossip?" Edythe asked with a smile.
I shook my head, turning back to the window. "You're just trying to distract me."
Edythe's smile faded. "I don't need to distract you. Because we already have a plan, and it doesn't involve you going anywhere near that clearing."
My arms were folded again, my fists clenched, and I felt them trembling slightly. But this time it wasn't from anger. As I thought about both Jules and Edythe away from me, fighting, I felt the anxiety clawing at my chest, creeping down my back and up my neck.
And then something occurred to me—something horrible, almost cruel, but made it all seem clear as day.
I wanted to help, but beneath it all, the real reason I was so desperate was that I couldn't bear to see her put herself in harm's way. I wanted to be there to ensure the least possible danger to Edythe. So...if I couldn't be there, in the clearing with her, there was really only one other alternative.
It was a nasty thing to do, I knew—and yet, as though driven by some compulsion outside myself, I heard myself speak.
"All right," I said in a low voice. I could almost sense Edythe relax behind me, though I didn't turn my eyes from the window. I said quietly, "So there's absolutely no danger to any of you?"
"None," Edythe said easily. "It will be easy, Beau, I promise."
"You won't...not come back?" My voice was a whisper, and cracked on the last word.
Edythe was suddenly at my side, and I felt a cool, soothing hand on my back, the other gripping my hand. "I promise I will," she said gently. "We all will. It's not as dangerous for us as it might seem from your perspective, not with the wolf pack working with us. It will be easy."
"Easy," I repeated in a murmur. "So easy, there won't be enough for you to do. Someone could even sit out and it wouldn't make a difference."
"Yes," Edythe said eagerly, happy to win me over. "Exactly."
My eyes suddenly shifted to meet hers. The guilt was gnawing at my chest, but there was something hard there, too. I knew if I said this, I wouldn't be able to take it back. Once I started, I would have to finish. But I also knew I couldn't do anything else.
"If that's true, then prove it," I said in a low voice.
Edythe blinked, and she looked momentarily confused. "Of course," she said. "Anything."
I drew a breath, then said, "If it's as easy as you keep saying, and there's really no point in me being there...prove it to me. You stay behind with me, and let the others handle it. If you agree to that, I promise I'll be quiet and I won't try anything."
Edythe stared up at me for a second. Then her expression closed.
"You won't?" I said, making my voice scathing as I turned my eyes back to the window. "Course you won't. Because you're lying to me."
"Beau," Edythe said, very quietly, "are you asking me...to let them fight without my help?"
The guilt felt like it would burn a hole straight through me. But I didn't let it show on my face.
"You're asking me to let you all fight without my help," I accused. "What's the difference? I want to be where you are. If I can't be where the fighting is, helping...then the way I see it, there's only one other option."
Edythe gazed back into my face for one long moment. I wondered if she felt she was seeing me clearly for the first time. What kind of person I was beneath it all—a monster who'd do anything, say anything, no matter how cruel or manipulative, to make sure things went his way.
Because I suddenly knew I was prepared to go further. I would beg, I would plead, I would remind her of everything I felt when she left me before. I'd make her feel so guilty she couldn't do anything else.
It was all there, ready in my mind. I really was a monster. Not a vampire or a werewolf, but the kind of slimy creature an ordinary guy who knew his girlfriend loved him as much as anything in the world had the power to be.
Edythe stared back up at me for a moment longer. Then the pained expression faded, suddenly sharpening into resolve. She reached into her jacket to pull out her cell phone.
"Archie?" she said, turning away from me. "Could you do me a favor, and come watch Beau for a little while?" For a second I was sure she knew the onslaught of shameless manipulation I was planning and meant to get away, but then she said, "I need to speak to Jessamine."
She closed the phone with a snap.
"What is it?" I asked uncertainly, almost afraid of the answer.
"If there is going to be a change in our strategy, I will have to run it by Jessamine first. But I am sure I will be able to persuade her. They don't really need me to be there." Edythe's tone was light, but the look in her eyes looked more like resignation.
I didn't know what to say. I felt like I should apologize, maybe take it back.
But I wouldn't. My mouth stayed firmly closed.
Edythe sighed, and I felt her arm wind around my back. I turned automatically, putting my arms around her, and burying my face in her hair. I drank in her scent, trying not to think, but the guilt still prowled at the back of my mind, like a live animal, ready to tear out my insides.
"They'll get along without me," she murmured, and I wondered if it was me she was trying to convince, or herself.
"We could just both go," I suggested softly. "We could both help." I spoke as though reminding myself that this was partly her decision would lessen my own guilt.
Edythe smiled, and pulled back just enough to look into my face. She reached up a finger to stroke my cheek. "It will work out this way. Eleanor will be happy—more fun for her. I'm a little disappointed to miss out, but—what is best for you is my first priority."
I broke slightly then. I stared down into her face, and my voice cracked. "I feel like I'm making you choose between me and your family," I whispered.
Edythe's finger moved to trace the bridge of my nose, then my lips. "They'll be fine," she murmured. "They know what they're doing."
"Yeah," said a voice from the door. "We will be fine—except you're going to miss out. A once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for excitement enough to last a century."
Archie had appeared in the doorway of the kitchen, arms folded and a sour expression on his face.
"Archie," Edythe said, eyes unmoving from my face, her finger tracing on the edge of my ear. Then she reluctantly pulled away, though not before she leaned up and kissed me lightly on the cheek.
"I'll be back," she promised, then in a moment, she was gone.
I didn't meet Archie's gaze as he walked leisurely into the room and sank down into a chair with a sigh. He tilted back on two legs to what seemed a dangerous degree.
I didn't say anything. Again, I felt like I ought to apologize—putting all of them at greater risk for my own selfish reasons. But I didn't. I felt like I couldn't apologize unless I was ready to take it back, and I wasn't.
Archie gave me a sideways look. "You're really worrying over nothing, you know."
I scowled. "Was perpetual optimism part of the deal for the Porsche?"
Archie flashed a grin. "Nope, that's just natural. It's part of why Jessamine and I are so compatible. Opposites attract and all that."
Archie brought the chair legs to the floor, deliberately with a loud clump. He looked me in the eye. "That's what's got you so freaked out, right? Some stuff Jess has said?"
He sighed. "Look, relax, dude. Jess always overcompensates, it's just who she is. If we had an army of a hundred against ten, she'd still be trying to find us more ways to give us the upper hand."
I'd returned to the table and slumped down in a chair opposite him. I glared at the wood grain. "Maybe that's why she's still alive," I muttered.
My eyes suddenly rose back to his, and I heard myself saying, a little louder than normal, "Look, I know you have the advantage here with the wolves' help. You're all experienced fighters, and you'll probably have surprise on your side. I get it. But no matter what Edythe says, it's still a battle, where there are going to be monsters trying to kill you. I think you should try to get every advantage you can. But if she won't let me be there...If she went, and I stayed...and something happened to her when my being there could have stopped it..."
I hesitated, trailing off. "I didn't have a choice," I muttered finally.
We were both quiet for a long minute. Finally, Archie shrugged. "Like I said, you're worrying about nothing. We'll be fine. Who knows, if I were in your shoes, maybe I'd do the same thing, but it doesn't matter. I already told Jess and the others Edythe's not going to go, so they've probably worked out some alternate arrangements, not that there's really much to arrange."
Archie still seemed unconcerned. He wasn't even slightly annoyed, and even seemed sympathetic.
For some reason, Archie's attitude took all the angry defensiveness out of me, and suddenly I slumped.
"I'm a loser," I said hollowly. "A total loser. And I was trying so hard not to be."
Archie laughed. "Nah, you're just overprotective and prone to overreaction as my sister is. The only way I'll call you a loser is if—" He looked at me, and his eyes turned just a touch more serious. "If is, after all this, you either ditch her, or you die on her."
"First one's not likely," I muttered.
Archie grinned, immediately relaxed again. "So concentrate on the second one."
He stretched out his legs under the table, rocking back on two legs again. "Speaking of. If you want Charlie to let you out of the house again, you might want to go get cleaned up. He's going to be back here in fifteen minutes and, no offense, but you look like you just woke up with a hangover."
"Thanks a lot," I muttered, but I turned obediently toward the stairs.
It didn't take long for me to splash some water on my face, run a comb through my hair, and put on some fresh clothes. I was already downstairs working on dinner when Charlie walked through the door. He didn't seem at all displeased when he caught sight of Archie lounging at the table in Edythe's usual place.
"Hey, kid," he called, smile stretching almost as wide as his face. "How you been?"
"Not bad," Archie said, grinning. "You hear about the party last night?"
Charlie grinned back as he headed to the sink to wash his hands. "I sure did. Hard not to, actually, it's all anyone was talking about today. Impressive, maybe you should consider going into entertainment for a career. Bet you've got a heck of a cleanup job ahead of you, though."
Archie sighed. "Sure do. It was worth it, though." He was probably already done with it.
"Where's Edythe?" Charlie asked, a little grudgingly. "She's not out there doing cleanup without you, is she?" There was a little too much satisfaction and not enough disapproval in his tone, I thought.
Archie shook his head. "Nah, she's getting ready for the hiking trip." He shrugged nonchalantly. "It's a thing we've done every year when school lets out. We spend a weekend up in the mountains...Actually, that's kind of why I'm here, since it turns out I'm not going this year."
"Why not?" Charlie asked, turning back and looking concerned.
Archie patted his leg. "I've been getting some bad cramps lately. It's okay, but sometimes it seizes up and I can't walk for a while...I didn't think I should be out hiking right now, and Carine agreed with me."
Charlie frowned. "You're too young to be getting charlie horses. What does Carine say? You think it's a deficiency in your diet?"
Archie nodded. "Yeah, she's been giving me supplements, and I think they've been helping, but I'm trying to take it easy, just in case."
Archie sighed dramatically. "Course, it is the first time I'm missing it...A couple of the others volunteered to stay with me, but, I told them they should all go have a good time. But if I had someone to keep me company for an all-night COPS marathon..." He turned his eyes on me.
It was obvious where this was going, and Charlie was immediately behind the idea. "That's the spirit. I know that's hard, but they'd want you to have a good time anyway. You and Beau should make a time of it."
"Sure," I said, realizing a beat late that Archie was setting up my alibi for Saturday. "I'm cool with that."
"Great," Archie said brightly. "They're leaving tomorrow, and I've got ideas for the whole weekend."
"Just don't go too wild with your parents out of town," Charlie warned.
"Don't worry," Archie said, and the smile on his face was so pure, the biggest cynic couldn't have helped but believe him. "Nothing too extreme. Pizza, movies...On Saturday we can drive out somewhere—one of the nearby cities. Carine okayed that, she said it'll be good for me to get some exercise without overdoing it and being within range of medical care just in case."
"Not Seattle," Charlie said quickly, frowning. Though ironically, we both knew Seattle would be safer than Forks come Saturday.
Archie shook his head. "Nah, Carine said we couldn't go there—I was thinking more Olympia. There's a burger joint I've been wanting to try, and we can catch a movie...maybe do some sightseeing. We'll probably be gone all day."
"Good," Charlie said. "Have a fun time. When do you want him to come over?"
Archie shrugged. "Just tomorrow evening sometime, maybe around six."
"I'll be there," I inserted. I was glad Archie was driving the deception, because I was no good at it, and I hadn't thought about it at all.
Edythe returned not much long after that. She didn't show any surprise when Charlie wished her and the rest of the family a nice trip and she thanked him politely. She said they were leaving early in the morning, and she left before the usual time, Archie going with her.
When they were gone, I turned toward the stairs.
"You can't be tired," Charlie said, shaking his head. "When you say you aren't a partier, you mean it."
Edythe was up waiting for me in my room, and it was about an hour later we slipped out into the night for yet another night of training.
It was hard to believe the battle already loomed so close—there was tomorrow, and then it would be Saturday. The day where this entire nightmare could finally be behind us, or else all my worst nightmares came true.
"So," I said from Edythe's back, as she raced through the dark forest. "Archie's actually going hunting with the rest of them tomorrow night. So instead it's going to be just you and me. You know, we could have just said you were all leaving Saturday, and we could have stayed at my house."
"We will want to begin our preparations first thing in the morning, likely before your father is up," Edythe said. "This makes things simpler."
"Yeah, but," I began, frowning. "Your house doesn't have a bed."
Edythe considered. "I could fetch one if you like. I was going to have one brought in when you stayed there before, but Archie said it would irritate you."
I shrugged. "It's okay, we can spend the night on the couch in front of the TV, just like Archie told Charlie...any movies you want to see? I'm guessing you wouldn't be a big fan of COPS."
Edythe smiled a little. "Anything, so long as it's not Romeo and Juliet."
I realized I was feeling a bit better than I had earlier that evening. Now that the immediacy of what I had done was beginning to fade, the guilt didn't feel quite so sharp. And I felt Edythe and Archie's confidence beginning to affect me too. I was almost starting to feel that—maybe—everything could turn out all right. It didn't in any way change what I'd done, but if everything did work out, then maybe I could at least forget about it.
When we got to the clearing, everyone else was already there. Jessamine seemed to be readying herself for another night of lessons, and Eleanor rolled her shoulders enthusiastically, apparently looking forward to it.
The sky was brighter tonight, the moon visible through the gauzy clouds, and so this time I could easily make out the wolves sitting around the edge of the practice ring, spread far apart to view it from different angles.
However, I couldn't help but notice there were fewer than the previous night.
"Where are the others?" I asked.
"The plural psyche," Edythe reminded me. "If one sees something, they've all seen it. One would be enough, but Samantha doesn't trust us, so she didn't want to send only Julie Black on her own, though she volunteered. So she brought Emma and Quil along to satisfy Sam. I guess you could say Emma and Quil are sort of like Jules's..."
"Henchmen?" I suggested. "Flunkies?"
Edythe smiled a little. "I was going to say lieutenants, but I supposed those work, too."
I considered this for a long minute. "She would have come alone," I mused. "She trusts you."
"She trusts us not to try to kill her," Edythe allowed. "That's about all, though."
"Are...you going to be participating tonight?" I asked, feeling the guilt needle me again. She wasn't going to be at the actual fight. I probably couldn't imagine how hard this was for her.
"I'm going to help Jessamine with a few demonstrations," she said. "Today she wants to focus on unequal matchups, how to deal with multiple attackers."
I stared at her for a second, then I looked away, nodding slowly. Trying to keep my face blank, even as my stomach twisted viciously.
Even with the wolves, they were still outnumbered. And I was making it worse.
My eyes instead focused on the field, where the practice fights had already begun. However, I couldn't look there for long, as the faces of my family seemed to morph instead to wild newborns, and the mock fights became deadly and real. Very soon, they would be.
I tried to force myself to find some calm, not to think about it, but when my eyes drifted, they came instead to rest on the wolves. There was Emma, with her gray fur and dark speckled back, and Quil with rich brown fur like chocolate. And of course Jules, who I could always distinguish from the rest of the pack by her unusual russet fur. She turned her head at that moment and caught my eye, and her mouth split into the same happy, almost puppy-like grin of before, tongue hanging out, eyes scrunching the way they did when she was human.
It seemed like I was over my automatic, instinctual fear of the wolves. I realized, looking at them now, they were more like oversized dogs than anything, hardly anything to lose sleep over. Their individual personalities were even noticeable if you were watching for it. Emma sat quietly and patiently, watching the fight serenely. Quil gave an occasional twitch and sniff, as though with disdain, or possibly jealousy, as if she were wishing she could join the fight herself.
The wolves were all so young. Just girls, really, with a responsibility they hadn't asked for thrust upon them. Now they would be out there, risking their lives in a fight I was making that much harder on them.
I couldn't hold Jules's gaze, and I looked away.
However, I saw a motion out of the corner of my eye, and when I looked back, I saw Jules had gotten to her feet and trotted over to where Edythe and I stood on the edge of things.
"Julie," Edythe acknowledged politely with a dip of her head.
Jules didn't look at her, instead all her focus on me. She lowered her head to my level to peer into my face with her searching dark eyes. She cocked her head to one side.
I knew Edythe was about to give a translation, but I didn't really need one.
"I'm fine," I said with a shrug, trying to sound nonchalant.
Jules growled, a frustrated sound.
I thought I could guess that one, too, but I glanced at Edythe.
"She says you shouldn't be worried."
Jules finally did look at Edythe, and she rolled her black eyes, and let out a kind of grunt that sounded exasperated.
That one I really wasn't sure about and raised an eyebrow at Edythe.
Edythe shook her. "Apparently she's unsatisfied with my translation."
"So what did she really say?"
Edythe smiled a little. "She said, 'You're worrying over nothing again. Only idiots worry when there's nothing to worry about.' It seemed rather impolite, so I edited."
I turned back to Jules with a half smile, but the anxiety was still bubbling in my stomach. "Obviously you aren't worrying enough, so I'm doing if for you." I wanted my tone to sound light and joking, but I spoke so low, my tone had a desperate edge to it, even to my own ears.
Jules snorted, and I could make out the disdain.
Edythe had been watching us, but then her eyes flickered to the field. She sighed. "Jessamine's ready for my help. You'll be okay without a translator?"
I shrugged. "I'll manage."
Edythe hesitated for a moment longer, her eyes on me, with an expression that impossible to read. Then she turned and slipped away over toward where Jessamine and the others waited across the clearing.
Jules started to head back over, then paused as she noticed I wasn't following.
"You go ahead," I said, slowly lowering myself onto the ground to sit with my folded arms resting on my knees. It was cold and uncomfortable, but I ignored it. "I don't really feel like watching."
Jules cocked her head again questioningly, and I figured she was probably wondering why I'd bothered to come if I didn't want to see the practice. I wondered what she would say if she knew what I had done. Probably deduct every one of the man points I'd earned—a long way to fall from being Superman, Hugh Jackman-level. Or maybe she'd be happy as Eleanor, at the prospect of having more leeches to kill. I wondered if the pack really loved killing vampires that much, or if it was just part of their bravado.
Jules looked back at the fight for a second, then turned around and trotted back to me, and dropped down on the ground beside me with a rumbling sigh.
"Go," I said. "Don't worry about me."
Jules just snorted again and stubbornly laid her head down on her paws.
I sighed, tilting my head back to gaze up at the sky, and the bright silver clouds illuminated by the moon, to keep my eyes from the mock fight. I'd seen more than enough already. A chilly breeze curled through the clearing, making me shiver.
Jules scooted closer to me, pressing her warm fur against my left side.
"Er—thanks," I muttered. However, it was a few minutes before I finally gave in and leaned against her shoulder. I found I was immediately warmer and more comfortable that way.
I watched the dark clouds roll slowly across the sky, dimming and brightening as thicker patches crossed the moon and went on.
I patted Jules's neck absently, and I said suddenly, maybe just because I suddenly felt like talking, "You know, I always wanted a dog. But my mom was allergic. She said we could get a cat, but I was never big on cats."
Jules's body shook under me as she gave a low, barking laugh.
"Are you really this relaxed about Saturday, or is this all a show?" I asked.
Jules turned her head so I could see her eyes roll.
We sat in silence for a long minute. Then, slowly, I leaned my head down against her neck and I said softly, so softly I barely heard myself, "Really, Jules. Please...don't die."
She didn't laugh this time or look disdainful. Instead, she turned her head again to look at me. Her dark eyes held nothing but certainty. She bumped her muzzle gently, comfortingly against my neck.
I patted her head, and then she turned her head back toward the mock fight in the distance.
I sighed and found myself settling deeper into her fur to shield myself as another chilly breeze blew through the clearing. Funny how when she was in wolf form, we got along so well. Things felt less complicated, like they had in the early days of our friendship back then. It was easy, effortless, more so than it had been the last few times we'd met when she was human. And all this time, I'd thought it was the wolf-thing that had been the source of everything.
The killing games continued in the clearing, and I kept my eyes focused on the pale, hazy moon.