Mike's eyes narrowed shrewdly. "Don't kid yourself, Bella. The guy's head over heels for you."
"I know," I sighed. "Life is complicated."
"And girls are cruel," Mike said under his breath.
I supposed that was an easy assumption to make, too.
That night, Sam and Emily joined Charlie and me for dessert at Billy's house. Emily brought a cake that
would have won over a harder man than Charlie. I could see, as the conversation flowed naturally
through a range of casual subjects, that any worries Charlie might have harbored about gangs in La Push
were being dissolved.
Jake and I skipped out early, to get some privacy. We went out to his garage and sat in the Rabbit.
Jacob leaned his head back, his face drawn with exhaustion.
"You need some sleep, Jake."
"I'll get around to it."
He reached over and took my hand. His skin was blazing on mine.
"Is that one of those wolf things?" I asked him. "The heat, I mean."
"Yeah. We run a little warmer than the normal people. About one-oh-eight, one-oh-nine. I never get cold
anymore. I could stand like this"—he gestured to his bare torso—"in a snowstorm and it wouldn't bother
me. The flakes would turn to rain where I stood."
"And you all heal fast—that's a wolf thing, too?"
"Yeah, wanna see? It's pretty cool." His eyes flipped open and he grinned. He reached around me to the
glove compartment and dug around for a minute. His hand came out with a pocketknife.
"No, I do not want to see!" I shouted as soon as I realized what he was thinking. "Put that away!"
Jacob chuckled, but shoved the knife back where it belonged. "Fine. It's a good thing we heal, though.
You can't go see just any doctor when you're running a temperature that should mean you're dead."
"No, I guess not." I thought about that for a minute. "… And being so big—that's part of it? Is that why
you're all worried about Quil?"
"That and the fact that Quil's grandfather says the kid could fry an egg on his forehead." Jacob's face
turned hopeless. "It won't be long now. There's no exact age… it just builds and builds and then
suddenly—" He broke off, and it was a moment before he could speak again. "Sometimes, if you get
really upset or something, that can trigger it early. But I wasn't upset about anything—I was happy." He
laughed bitterly. "Because of you, mostly. That's why it didn't happen to me sooner. Instead it just kept
on building up inside me—I was like a time bomb. You know what set me off? I got back from that
movie and Billy said I looked weird. That was all, but I just snapped. And then I—I exploded. I almost
ripped his face off—my own father!" He shuddered, and his face paled.
"Is it really bad, Jake?" I asked anxiously, wishing I had some way to help him. "Are you miserable?"
"No, I'm not miserable," he told me. "Not anymore. Not now that you know. That was hard, before." He
leaned over so that his cheek was resting on top of my head.
He was quiet for a moment, and I wondered what he was thinking about. Maybe I didn't want to know.
"What's the hardest part?" I whispered, still wishing I could help.
"The hardest part is feeling… out of control," he said slowly. "Feeling like I can't be sure of myself—like
maybe you shouldn't be around me, like maybe nobody should. Like I'm a monster who might hurt
somebody. You've seen Emily. Sam lost control of his temper for just one second… and she was
standing too close. And now there's nothing he can ever do to put it right again. I hear his thoughts—I
know what that feels like…
"Who wants to be a nightmare, a monster?
"And then, the way it comes so easily to me, the way I'm better at it than the rest of them—does that
make me even less human than Enbry or Sam? Sometimes I'm afraid that I'm losing myself."
"Is it hard? To find yourself again?"
"At first," he said. "It takes some practice to phase back and forth. But it's easier tor me."
"Why?" I wondered.
"Because Ephraim Black was my father's grandfather, and Quil Ateara was my mother's grandfather."
"Quil?" I asked in confusion.
"His great-grandfather," Jacob clarified. "The Quil you know is my second cousin."
"But why does it matter who your great-grandfathers are?"
"Because Ephraim and Quil were in the last pack. Levi Uley was the third. It's in my blood on both sides.
I never had a chance. Like Quil doesn't have a chance."
His expression was bleak.
"What's the very best part?" I asked, hoping to cheer him up.
"The best part," he said, suddenly smiling again, "is the speed."
"Better than the motorcycles?"
He nodded, enthusiastic. "There's no comparison."
"How fast can you… ?"
"Run?" he finished my question. "Fast enough. What can I measure it by? We caught… what was his
name? Laurent? I imagine that means more to you than it would to someone else."
It did mean something to me. I couldn't imagine that—the wolves running faster than a vampire. When the
Cullens ran, they all but turned invisible with speed.
"So, tell me something I don't know," he said. "Something about vampires. How did you stand it, being
around them? Didn't it creep you out?"
"No," I said curtly.
My tone made him thoughtful for a moment.
"Say, why'd your bloodsucker kill that James, anyway?" he asked suddenly.
"James was trying to kill me—it was like a game for him. He lost. Do you remember last spring when I
was in the hospital down in Phoenix?"
Jacob sucked in a breath. "He got that close?"
"He got very, very close." I stroked my scar. Jacob noticed, because he held the hand I moved.
"What's that?" He traded hands, examining my right. "This is your funny scar, the cold one." He looked at
it closer, with new eyes, and gasped.
"Yes, it's what you think it is," I said. "James bit me."
His eyes bulged, and his face turned a strange, sallow color under the russet surface. He looked like he
was about to be sick.
"But if he bit you… ? Shouldn't you be… ?" He choked.
"Edward saved me twice," I whispered. "He sucked the venom out—you know, like with a rattlesnake."
I twitched as the pain lashed around the edges of the hole.
But I wasn't the only one twitching. I could feel Jacob's whole body trembling next to mine. Even the car
shook.
"Careful, Jake. Easy. Ca in down."
"Yeah," he panted. "Calm." He shook his head back and forth quickly. After a moment, only his hands
were shaking.
"You okay?"
"Yeah, almost. Tell me something else. Give me something else to think about."
"What do you want to know?"
"I don't know." He had his eyes closed, concentrating. "The extra stuff I guess. Did any of the other
Cullens have… extra talents? Like the mind reading?"
I hesitated a second. This felt like a question he would ask of his spy, not his friend. But what was the
point of hiding what I knew? It didn't matter now, and it would help him control himself.
So I spoke quickly, the image of Emily's ruined face in my mind, and the hair rising on my arms. I couldn't
imagine how the russet wolf would fit inside the Rabbit—Jacob would tear the whole garage apart if he
changed now.
"Jasper could… sort of control the emotions of the people around him. Not in a bad way, just to calm
someone down, that kind of thing. It would probably help Paul a lot," I added, teasing weakly. "And then
Alice could see things that were going to happen. The future, you know, but not absolutely. The things
she saw would change when someone changed the path they were on…"
Like how she'd seen me dying… and she'd seen me becoming one of them. Two things that had not
happened. And one that never would. My head started to spin—I couldn't seem to pull in enough oxygen
from the air. No lungs.
Jacob was entirely in control now, very still beside me.
"Why do you do that?" he asked. He tugged lightly at one of my arms, which was bound around my
chest, and then gave up when it wouldn't come loose easily. I hadn't even realized I'd moved them. "You
do that when you're upset. Why?"
"It hurts to think about them," I whispered. "It's like I can't breathe… like I'm breaking into pieces…"It
was bizarre how much I could tell Jacob now. We had no more secrets.
He smoothed my hair. "It's okay, Bella, it's okay. I won't bring it up again. I'm sorry."
"I'm fine." I gasped. "Happens all the time. Not your fault."
"We're a pretty messed-up pair, aren't we?" Jacob said. "Neither one of us can hold our shape together
right."
"Pathetic," I agreed, still breathless.
"At least we have each other," he said, clearly comforted by the thought.
I was comforted, too. "At least there's that," I agreed.
And when we were together, it was fine. But Jacob had a horrible, dangerous job he felt compelled to
do, and so I was often alone, stuck in La Push for safety, with nothing to do to keep my mind off any of
my worries.
I felt awkward, always taking up space at Billy's. I did some studying for another Calculus test that was
coming up next week, but I could only look at math for so long. When I didn't have something obvious to
do in my hands,
I felt like I ought to be making conversation with Billy—the pressure of normal societal rules. But Billy
wasn't one for filling up the long silences, and so the awkwardness continued.
I tried hanging out at Emily's place Wednesday afternoon, for a change. At first it was kind of nice. Emily
was a cheerful person who never sat still. I drifted behind her while she flitted around her little house and
yard, scrubbing at the spotless floor, pulling a tiny weed, fixing a broken hinge, tugging a string of wool
through an ancient loom, and always cooking, too. She complained lightly about the increase in the boys'
appetites from all their extra running, but it was easy to see she didn't mind taking care of them. It wasn't
hard to be with her—after all, we were both wolf girls now.
But Sam checked in after I'd been there for a few hours. I only stayed long enough to ascertain that
Jacob was fine and there was no news, and then I had to escape. The aura of love and contentment that
surrounded them was harder to take in concentrated doses, with no one else around to dilute it.
So that left me wandering the beach, pacing the length of the rocky crescent back and forth, again and
again.
Alone time wasn't good for me. Thanks to the new honesty with Jacob, I'd been talking and thinking
about the Cullens way too much. No matter how I tried to distract myself—and I had plenty to think of: I
was honestly and desperately worried about Jacob and his wolf-brothers, I was terrified for Charlie and
the others who thought they were hunting animals, I was getting in deeper and deeper with Jacob without
ever having consciously decided to progress in that direction and I didn't know what to do about
it—none of these very real, very deserving of thought, very pressing concerns could take my mind off the
pain in my chest for long. Eventually, I couldn't even walk anymore, because I couldn't breathe. I sat
down on a patch of semidry rocks and curled up in a ball.
Jacob found me like that, and I could tell from his expression that he understood.
"Sorry," he said right away. He pulled me up from the ground and wrapped both arms around my
shoulders. I hadn't realized that I was cold until then. His warmth made me shudder, but at least I could
breathe with him there.
"I'm ruining your spring break," Jacob accused himself as we walked back up the beach.
"No, you're not. I didn't have any plans. I don't think I like spring breaks, anyway."
"I'll take tomorrow morning off. The others can run without me. We'll do something fun."
The word seemed out of place in my life right now, barely comprehensible, bizarre. "Fun?"
"Fun is exactly what you need. Hmm…" he gazed out across the heaving gray waves, deliberating. As his
eyes scanned the horizon, he had a flash of inspiration.
"Got it!" he crowed. "Another promise to keep."
"What are you talking about?"
He let go of my hand and pointed toward the southern edge of the beach, where the flat, rocky
half-moon dead-ended against the sheer sea cliffs. I stared, uncomprehending.
"Didn't I promise to take you cliff diving?"
I shivered.
"Yeah, it'll be pretty cold—not as cold as it is today. Can you feel the weather changing? The pressure?
It will be warmer tomorrow. You up for it?"
The dark water did not look inviting, and, from this angle, the cliffs looked even higher than before.
But it had been days since I'd heard Edward's voice. That was probably part of the problem. I was
addicted to the sound of my delusions. It made things worse if I went too long without them. Jumping off
a cliff was certain to remedy that situation.
"Sure, I'm up for it. Fun."
"It's a date," he said, and draped his arm around my shoulders.
"Okay—now let's go get you some sleep." I didn't like the way the circles under his eyes were beginning
to look permanently etched onto his skin.
I woke early the next morning and snuck a change of clothes out to the truck. I had a feeling that Charlie
would approve of today's plan just about as much as he would approve of the motorcycle.
The idea of a distraction from all my worries had me almost excited. Maybe it would be fun. A date with
Jacob, a date with Edward… I laughed darkly to myself. Jake could say what he wanted about us being
a messed-up pair—I was the one who was truly messed up. I made the werewolf seem downright
normal.
I expected Jacob to meet me out front, the way he usually did when my noisy truck announced my
arrival. When he didn't, I guessed that he might still be sleeping. I would wait—let him get as much rest as
he could. He needed his sleep, and that would give the day time to warm a bit more. Jake had been right
about the weather, though; it had changed in the night. A thick layer of clouds pressed heavily on the
atmosphere now, making it almost sultry; it was warm and close under the gray blanket. I left my sweater
in the truck.
I knocked quietly on the door.
"C'mon in, Bella," Billy said.
He was at the kitchen table, eating cold cereal.
"Jake sleeping?"
"Er, no." He set his spoon down, and his eyebrows pulled together.
"What happened?" I demanded. I could tell from his expression that something had.
"Embry, Jared, and Paul crossed a fresh trail early this morning. Sam and Jake took off to help. Sam was
hopeful—she's hedged herself in beside the mountains. He thinks they have a good chance to finish this."
"Oh, no, Billy," I whispered. "Oh, no."
He chuckled, deep and low. "Do you really like La Push so well that you want to extend your sentence
here?"
"Don't make jokes, Billy. This is too scary for that."
"You're right," he agreed, still complacent. His ancient eyes were impossible to read. "This one's tricky."
I bit my lip.
"It's not as dangerous for them as you think it is. Sam knows what he's doing. You're the one that you
should worry about. The vampire doesn't want to fight them. She's just trying to find a way around
them… to you."
"How does Sam know what he's doing?" I demanded, brushing aside his concern for me. "They've only
killed just the one vampire—that could have been luck."
"We take what we do very seriously, Bella. Nothing's been forgotten. Everything they need to know has
been passed down from father to son for generations."
That didn't comfort me the way he probably intended it to. The memory of Victoria, wild, catlike, lethal,
was too strong in my head. If she couldn't get around the wolves, she would eventually try to go through
them.
Billy went back to his breakfast; I sat down on the sofa and flipped aimlessly though the TV channels.
That didn't last long. I started to feel closed in by the small room, claustrophobic, upset by the fact that I
couldn't see out the curtained windows.
"I'll be at the beach," I told Billy abruptly, and hurried out the door.
Being outside didn't help as much as I'd hoped. The clouds pushed down with an invisible weight that
kept the claustrophobia from easing. The forest seemed strangely vacant as I walked toward the beach. I
didn't see any animals—no birds, no squirrels. I couldn't hear any birds, either. The silence was eerie;
there wasn't even the sound of wind in the trees.
I knew it was all just a product of the weather, but it still made me edgy. The heavy, warm pressure of
the atmosphere was perceptible even to my weak human senses, and it hinted at something major in the
storm department. A glance at the sky backed this up; the clouds were churning sluggishly despite the
lack of breeze on the ground. The closest clouds were a smoky gray, but between the cracks I could see
another layer that was a gruesome purple color. The skies had a ferocious plan in store for today. The
animals must be bunkering down.
As soon as I reached the beach, I wished I hadn't come—I'd already had enough of this place. I'd been
here almost every day, wandering alone. Was it so much different from my nightmares? But where else to
go? I trudged down to the driftwood tree, and sat at the end so that I could lean against the tangled
roots. I stared up at the angry sky broodingly, waiting for the first drops to break the stillness.
I tried not to think about the danger Jacob and his friends were in. Because nothing could happen to
Jacob. The thought was unendurable. I'd lost too much already—would fate take the last few shreds of
peace left behind? That seemed unfair, out of balance. But maybe I'd violated some unknown rule,
crossed some line that had condemned me. Maybe it was wrong to be so involved with myths and
legends, to turn my back on the human world. Maybe…
No. Nothing would happen to Jacob. I had to believe that or I wouldn't be able to function.
"Argh!" I groaned, and jumped off the log. I couldn't sit still; it was worse than pacing.
I'd really been counting on hearing Edward this morning. It seemed like that was the one thing that might
make it bearable to live through this day. The hole had been festering lately, like it was getting revenge for
the times that Jacob's presence had tamed it. The edges burned.
The waves picked up as I paced, beginning to crash against the rocks, but there was still no wind. I felt
pinned down by the pressure of the storm. Everything swirled around me, but it was perfectly still where I
stood. The air had a faint electric charge—I could feel the static in my hair.
Farther out, the waves were angrier than they were along the shore. I could see them battering against the
line of the cliffs, spraying big white clouds of sea foam into the sky. There was still no movement in the
air, though the clouds roiled more quickly now. It was eerie looking—like the clouds were moving by
their own will. I shivered, though I knew it was just a trick of the pressure.
The cliffs were a black knife edge against the livid sky. Staring at them, I remembered the day Jacob had
told me about Sam and his "gang." I thought of the boys—the werewolves—throwing themselves into the
empty air. The image of the falling, spiraling figures was still vivid in my mind. I imagined the utter freedom
of the fall… I imagined the way Edward's voice would have sounded in my head—furious, velvet,
perfect… The burning in my chest flared agonizingly.
There had to be some way to quench it. The pain was growing more and more intolerable by the second.
I glared at the cliffs and the crashing waves.
Well, why not? Why not quench it right now?
Jacob had promised me cliff diving, hadn't he? Just because he was unavailable, should I have to give up
the distraction I needed so badly—needed even worse because Jacob was out risking his life? Risking it,
in essence, for me. If it weren't for me, Victoria would not be killing people here… just somewhere else,
far away. If anything happened to Jacob, it would be my fault. That realization stabbed deep and had me
jogging back up to the road toward Billy's house, where my truck waited.
I knew my way to the lane that passed closest to the cliffs, but I had to hunt for the little path that would
take me out to the ledge. As I followed it, I looked for turns or forks, knowing that Jake had planned to
take me off the lower outcropping rather than the top, but the path wound in a thin single line toward the
brink with no options. I didn't have time to find another way down—the storm was moving in quickly
now. The wind was finally beginning to touch me, the clouds pressing closer to the ground. Just as I
reached the place where the dirt path fanned out into the stone precipice, the first drops broke through
and splattered on my face.
It was not hard to convince myself that I didn't have time to search for another way—I wanted to jump
from the top. This was the image that had lingered in my head. I wanted the long fall that would feel like
flying.
I knew that this was the stupidest, most reckless thing I had done yet. The thought made me smile. The
pain was already easing, as if my body knew that Edward's voice was just seconds away…
The ocean sounded very far away, somehow farther than before, when I was on the path in the trees. I
grimaced when I thought of the probable temperature of the water. But I wasn't going to let that stop me.
The wind blew stronger now, whipping the rain into eddies around me.
I stepped out to the edge, keeping my eyes on the empty space in front of me. My toes felt ahead blindly,
caressing the edge of the rock when they encountered it. I drew in a deep breath and held it . . waiting.
"Bella."
I smiled and exhaled.
Yes? I didn't answer out loud, for fear that the sound of my voice would shatter the beautiful illusion. He
sounded so real, so close. It was only when lie was disapproving like this that I could hear the true
memory of his voice—the velvet texture and the musical intonation that made up the most perfect of all
voices.
"Don't do this," he pleaded.
You wanted me to be human, I reminded him. Well, watch me.
"Please. For me."
But you won't stay with me any other way.
"Please." It was just a whisper in the blowing rain that tossed my hair and drenched my clothes—making
me as wet as if this were my second jump of the day.
I rolled up onto the balls of my feet.
"No, Bella!" He was angry now, and the anger was so lovely.
I smiled and raised my arms straight out, as if I were going to dive, lifting my face into the rain. But it was
too ingrained from years of swimming at the public pool—feet first, first time. I leaned forward, crouching
to get more spring…
And I flung myself off the cliff.
I screamed as I dropped through the open air like a meteor, but it was a scream of exhilaration and not
fear. The wind resisted, trying vainly to fight the unconquerable gravity, pushing against me and twirling
me in spirals like a rocket crashing to the earth.
Yes! The word echoed through my head as I sliced through the surface of the water. It was icy, colder
than I'd feared, and yet the chill only added to the high.
I was proud of myself as I plunged deeper into the freezing black water. I hadn't had one moment of
terror—just pure adrenaline. Really, the fall wasn't scary at all. Where was the challenge?
That was when the current caught me.
I'd been so preoccupied by the size of the cliffs, by the obvious danger of their high, sheer faces, that I
hadn't worried at all about the dark water waiting. I never dreamed that the true menace was lurking far
below me, under the heaving surf.
It felt like the waves were fighting over me, jerking me back and forth between them as if determined to
share by pulling me into halves. I knew the right way to avoid a riptide: swim parallel to the beach rather
than struggling for the shore. But the knowledge did me little good when I didn't know which way the
shore was.
I couldn't even tell which way the surface was.
The angry water was black in every direction; there was no brightness to direct me upward. Gravity was
all-powerful when it competed with the air, but it had nothing on the waves—I couldn't feel a downward
pull, a sinking in any direction. Just the battering of the current that flung me round and round like a rag
doll.
I fought to keep my breath in, to keep my lips locked around my last store of oxygen.
It didn't surprise me that my delusion of Edward was there. He owed me that much, considering that I
was dying. I was surprised by how sure that knowledge was. I was going to drown. I was drowning.
"Keep swimming!" Edward begged urgently in my head.
Where? There was nothing but the darkness. There was no place to swim to.
"Stop that!" he ordered. "Don't you dare give up!"
The cold of the water was numbing my arms and legs. I didn't feel the buffeting so much as before. It was
more of just a dizziness now, a helpless spinning in the water.
But I listened to him. I forced my arms to continue reaching, my legs to kick harder, though every second
I was facing a new direction. It couldn't be doing any good. What was the point?
"Fight!" he yelled. "Damn it, Bella, keep fighting."
Why?
I didn't want to fight anymore. And it wasn't the light-headedness, or the cold, or the failure of my arms
as the muscles gave out in exhaustion, that made me content to stay where I was. I was almost happy
that it was over. This was an easier death than others I'd faced. Oddly peaceful.
I thought briefly of the clichés, about how you were suppose to see your life flash before your eyes. I was
so much luckier. Who wanted to see a rerun, anyway?
I saw him, and I had no will to fight. It was so clear, so much more defined than any memory. My
subconscious had stored Edward away in flawless detail, saving him for this final moment. I could see his
perfect face as if he were really there; the exact shade of his icy skin, the shape of his lips, the line of his
jaw, the gold glinting in his furious eyes. He was angry, naturally, that I was giving up. His teeth were
clenched and his nostrils flared with rage.
"No! Bella, no!"
My ears were flooded with the freezing water, but his voice was clearer than ever. I ignored his words
and concentrated on the sound of his voice. Why would I fight when I was so happy where I was? Even
as my lungs burned for more air and my legs cramped in the icy cold, I was content. I'd forgotten what
real happiness felt like.
Happiness. It made the whole dying thing pretty bearable.
The current won at that moment, shoving me abruptly against something hard, a rock invisible in the
gloom. It hit me solidly across the chest, slamming into me like an iron bar, and the breath whooshed out
of my lungs, escaping in a thick cloud of silver bubbles. Water flooded down my throat, choking and
burning. The iron bar seemed to be dragging me, pulling me away from Edward, deeper into the dark, to
the ocean floor.
Goodbye, I love you, was my last thought.
16. PARIS
AT THAT MOMENT, MY HEAD BROKE THE SURFACE.
How disorienting. I'd been sure I was sinking.
The current wouldn't let up. It was slamming me against more rocks; they beat against the center of my
back sharply, rhythmically, pushing the water from my lungs. It gushed out in amazing volume, absolute
torrents pouring from my mouth and nose. The salt burned and my lungs burned and my throat was too
full of water to catch a breath and the rocks were hurting my back. Somehow I stayed in one place,
though the waves still heaved around me. I couldn't see anything but water everywhere, reaching for my
face.
"Breathe!" a voice, wild with anxiety, ordered, and I felt a cruel stab of pain wher I recognized the
voice—because it wasn't Edward's.
I could not obey. The waterfall pouring from my mouth didn't stop long enough for me to catch a breath.
The black, icy water filled my chest, burning.
The rock smacked into my back again, right between my shoulder blades, and another volley of water
choked its way out of my lungs.
"Breathe, Bella! C'mon!" Jacob begged.
Black spots bloomed across my vision, getting wider and wider, blocking out the light.
The rock struck me again.
The rock wasn't cold like the water; it was hot on my skin. I realized it was Jacob's hand, trying to beat
the water from my lungs. The iron bar that had dragged me from the sea was also… warm… My head
whirled, the black spots covered everything…
Was I dying again, then? I didn't like it—this wasn't as good as the last time. It was only dark now,
nothing worth looking at here. The sound of the crashing waves faded into the black and became a quiet,
even whoosh that sounded like it was coming from the inside of my ears…
"Bella?" Jacob asked, his voice still tense, but not as wild as before. "Bells, honey, can you hear me?"
The contents of my head swished and rolled sickeningly, like they'd joined the rough water…
"How long has she been unconscious?" someone else asked.
The voice that was not Jacob's shocked me, jarred me into a more focused awareness.
I realized that I was still. There was no tug of the current on me—the heaving was inside my head. The
surface under me was flat and motionless. It felt grainy against my bare arms.
"I don't know," Jacob reported, still frantic. His voice was very close. Hands—so warm they had to be
his—brushed wet hair from my cheeks. "A few minutes? It didn't take long to tow her to the beach."
The quiet whooshing inside my ears was not the waves—it was the air moving in and out of my lungs
again. Each breath burned—the passageways were as raw as if I'd scrubbed them out with steel wool.
But I was breathing.
And I was freezing. A thousand sharp, icy beads were striking my face and arms, making the cold worse.
"She's breathing. She'll come around. We should get her out of the cold, though. I don't like the color
she's turning…" I recognized Sam's voice this time.
"You think it's okay to move her?"
"She didn't hurt her back or anything when she fell?"
"I don't know."
They hesitated.
I tried to open my eyes. It took me a minute, but then I could see the dark, purple clouds, flinging the
freezing rain down at me. "Jake?" I croaked.
Jacob's face blocked out the sky. "Oh!" he gasped, relief washing over his features. His eyes were wet
from the rain. "Oh, Bella! Are you okay? Can you hear me? Do you hurt anywhere?"
"J-Just m-my throat," I stuttered, my lips quivering from the cold.
"Let's get you out of here, then," Jacob said. He slid his arms under me and lifted me without effort—like
picking up an empty box. His chest was bare and warm; he hunched his shoulders to keep the rain off of
me. My head lolled over his arm. I stared vacantly back toward the furious water, beating the sand
behindhim.
"You got her?" I heard Sam ask.
"Yeah, I'll take it from here. Get back to the hospital. I'll join you later. Thanks, Sam."
My head was still rolling. None of his words sunk in at first. Sam didn't answer. There was no sound, and
I wondered if he were already gone.
The water licked and writhed up the sand after us as Jacob carried me away, like it was angry that I'd
escaped. As I stared wearily, a spark of color caught my unfocused eyes—a small flash of fire was
