The Movement of the Earth -- Chapter 5
Title: The Movement of the Earth
Author: audreyii_fic
Fandom: Twilight (Team Jacob)
Rating: T
Characters: Bella, Jacob, Charlie, and others (J/B)
Genre: Romance/Angst/Wolfpack!Humor
Warnings: Language, violence, and references to adult behavior
banner courtesy of lilabut
Summary: Jacob imprints on Bella. It changes things. A re-write of New Moon, beginning on page 242 in Chapter 10: "The Meadow." ( Link to the beginning.)
Chapter Five:
Disclaimer VII -- Adrian's Revenge: Substantial parts of this fiction continue to be lifted directly from the text of New Moon. I am happy to say, though, that New Moon is in no way mine; if it was, my old English teachers would have dropped dead of shame. Nor am I Stephenie Meyer, whose English teachers are, in fact, presumably deceased.
out in the hornet rain / the swarming stingers pumping poison through my veins
Laura Veirs, "Wide-Eyed, Legless"
5. Plans
The truck was relatively quiet as we drove. Embry concentrated on not damaging the poorly synced transmission; I concentrated on not having a panic attack.
"Are you sure Jacob's going to be all right?" I asked fretfully.
Embry rolled his eyes. "For the hundredth time, yes. Jeez, you've got to learn to have a little trust. We're werewolves, Bella, we can take a hit. Rapid healing and everything. Even if Jake breaks a few bones, he'll be all right by sundown." He frowned. "He better not, though, I've got ten bucks riding on this."
"Sorry." Sarcasm. "I've only had this information for an hour. I apologize for not understanding all the little ins and outs of werewolfhood yet."
"I guess that's true." He glanced at me sideways, a little smirk on his face. "Well, at least you didn't collapse or anything. Sam said that when he told Emily she passed out cold."
"And who's Emily, exactly?" I figured I had a right to know at least that much, since I was about to enter her home. Maybe she'd be more forthcoming than these cryptic little wolfboys.
I wasn't in a very good mood.
"She's Sam's girlfriend-- no, wait, fiancee. He popped the question, like, last month." Embry rolled his eyes again. He was going to damage his retinas if he wasn't careful. "You should have seen him, he didn't stop grinning for a week. It was gross."
"They're really in love, huh?" I felt the holes in my chest -- the ones left by Edward, anyway -- begin to burn with pain.
If Edward had asked me to marry him, how would I have reacted? Marriage wasn't something that mattered to me. If it was what he had wanted, though, if he had wanted to bind himself to me... but he hadn't.
I shook myself silently. I needed to stop this. There was too much happening right now for me to wallow in grief -- no matter how consuming that grief was.
"You have no idea," Embry replied, oblivious to my heartache. "The rest of us have to listen to his thoughts all the time. The second we're off of pack business, it's 'I love her' this and 'She's so wonderful' that. Jared's even worse. And Jake's head doesn't even make sense anymore--" He stopped speaking suddenly and cleared his throat. "Uh, never mind."
I made a disgusted noise and didn't even bother to ask for a clarification I knew I wouldn't get. Stupid werewolves.
Embry drove past the easternmost house on the highway before turning off onto a narrow dirt road. "Your truck is slow," he complained.
"Yeah, well, you'll have to talk to Jacob about that. He's the one that rebuilt it."
He snorted. "Right. I'm really going to tell Jake that something he built is a piece of shit. I like walking straight, thanks."
I gave him an evil glare. "Call my truck a piece of shit again and I'll see to it you don't walk straight." No one got to insult my truck.
Embry just laughed.
At the end of the lane we came to a tiny house with a narrow window and a faded blue door. The front porch was weathered and well-used, and the railing was covered in coffee cans full of potted flowers -- marigolds, daisies, daffodils, and a bunch of other plants I didn't recognize spilled across the wooden planks. The result was very home-y.
Embry opened the driver's side door and inhaled deeply. "Oh, thank God. Lunch. I was gonna collapse here in another minute." I raised an eyebrow, and he shrugged. "Hey, it takes a lot of calories to morph into a giant dog."
"I suppose that makes sense."
Jared jumped out of the back of the truck and headed for the door, the shredded sneaker in hand. I started to follow, but Embry darted in front of me and blocked my path. "Hey -- make sure you don't stare, okay? It bugs Sam."
"Why would I stare?" I asked, frowning; it wasn't like I didn't have any manners.
Embry fidgeted uncomfortably. "Because... well... just, you know, don't." He turned around and bounded up the steps after Jared, leaving me to follow timidly behind.
The front room, like Billy's house, was mostly kitchen. The counters were sparkling clean. A checkered cloth covered a medium-sized table, a vase of more flowers in peak bloom sitting in the center. The delicious smell of chicken and rosemary rose out of the oven, and young, slender woman with long, straight, shiny black hair stood with her back to me, scrubbing out a pot in the sink and humming. She was even wearing an apron.
Oh, no. I was in the home of a domestic goddess.
This was vastly more intimidating than werewolves. I thought briefly about diving under the tablecloth and hiding, but it would probably be noticed. Without so much as a 'hello', Embry strode over to the enormous oven and cracked open the door. "Oh, man, chicken."
With lightning speed, the woman -- Emily, surely -- whipped a wooden spoon out of the sink and whapped Embry on the head with it. "Stay out of there, you'll release all the heat and then you'll have to wait even longer," she scolded. Her melodic voice was good-natured, though. "I take it you're both hungry?"
"When are we not?"
"Never," she laughed. Then she turned around.
The left half of her face was lovely, with a perfect bow mouth and a dark, almond-shaped eye. But the right side was destroyed; her copper skin was marred from her hairline to her chin by three thick, red lines, livid in color though they were long healed. The scars twisted her features into a disfiguring mask.
I did my best to focus on the left side.
Emily looked slightly confused for a moment, but then her expression lit up, shining with an echo of the beauty that must have once been hers. "Bella Swan?" she guessed.
I nodded hesitantly.
One half of Emily's mouth turned up into a wide smile; the other half remained immobile. "I'm so glad to finally meet you," she said warmly, wiping her hands on a dishtowel. "I'm Emily, Sam's im--"
Jared coughed suddenly from his seat at the table. Emily looked over at him, and he shook his head.
Emily blinked, her right eyelid moving half a second slower than her left. It was a disconcerting effect. "Still?" she said incredulously.
"Yep," Jared said, shrugging. "I have no idea how he's pulling it off. I would never have thought it would go on this long."
"Well, that's Jacob for you," Emily murmured.
I resisted the urge to stamp my foot on the ground like a girl on TV. "Am I just supposed to guess what you're talking about?" I said, acid dripping from my voice. "Shouldn't I at least get a hint? Can we play charades or something?"
Jared smirked, but Emily at least looked chagrined. "I'm sorry, we're being rude," she apologized. "Would you like to sit? Embry, leave those alone," she added sharply, turning around.
Embry had gotten into a pan of rolls sitting on the counter. They were golden-brown and looked freshly baked. "Mmm h'ngry," he mumbled, mouth full. "Pwease?"
Emily sighed. "Fine, but save some for your brothers." Embry didn't need any more prompting; he pulled the pan off the counter and plopped down at the table, where he and Jared proceeded to tear into the bread like ravenous... well... wolves. "Can I offer you something to drink?" she said, turning back to me.
"Um, water, thanks," I replied, sitting down in one of the rickety wooden chairs, watching the boys eat with morbid fascination.
"Don't worry," Emily said. "They won't choke. And if they did it would teach them a lesson about table manners." She handed me a full glass, and I saw that the scars from her face extended all the way down her arm to the tips of the fingers on her right hand. The tip of her pinky was missing.
"Look at what could happen to you, Bella," Edward's golden voice whispered worriedly into my ear.
I jumped, and water sloshed out of the glass onto the tablecloth. "Oh, sorry," I said quickly, reaching for a napkin, my face burning. "Sorry about that."
"Don't worry, it's just water." Emily gave me a strange look as she reached for her dishtowel. "I've got it." She blotted up the spilled liquid, and I glanced at her scars again.
Had a werewolf made those?
Straightening up, Emily looked at the boys with fond exasperation. "Aren't you going to offer some bread to Bella?" she reprimanded, shaking her head. "Didn't your mothers teach you anything?"
Embry and Jared stopped chewing at the same moment, identical looks of contrition on their faces. The effect was priceless, and I bit my lip to keep from giggling.
"Sorry, Bella," Jared said sheepishly. He held out one of the remaining rolls.
"Put butter on it for her first," Emily said, looking pointedly at my incapacitated right arm. Jared obeyed, then reached across the table and set the roll down gently in front of me. "That's better," she said, mollified. "Honestly, you all act more like animals every day. I'm going to have Sam to order you all into charm school."
"Girl stuff," Embry muttered, and fast as a striking snake, Emily whacked him on the head with the wooden spoon again. "All right! We'll be good, we'll be good!"
"I should hope so. I've already broken too many utensils on your thick skull, Embry Call."
This time I couldn't hold back the giggle. I smothered it as quickly as I could with a mouthful of roll, which was warm and, somehow, just as disarming as the coffee cans of flowers. In spite of my nervousness, I could feel myself relaxing. It was difficult to be tense in a kitchen that smelled like roast chicken.
"So," Emily said, returning to the dishes, "how far behind are the others?"
"Depends on how far Paul and Jake rolled into the forest before Sam broke 'em up," Embry said, shrugging.
Emily groaned. "Please tell me Sam took his shoes off before he phased."
"Yep, he was good. They're gonna have to dig up some pants for Jake and Paul before coming here, though."
"Speaking of which, Em, I brought this for you." Jared held up the destroyed sneaker. "Can you fix it?"
Emily took the shoe from his hand, turning it over a few times. "Probably. Do you have the left one too?"
"Uh... no."
She rolled her eyes.
"So I guess you guys go through a lot of clothes?" I asked. In addition to feeling like I ought to offer something to the conversation -- it was good manners, and good manners seemed to be important to Emily -- I found myself genuinely curious about the mundane details of their supernatural lives. It wasn't every day a person shared a tray of dinner rolls with a bunch of werewolves.
"You have no idea," Jared said, shaking his head. "I'm on my last pair of shorts. After this it's the tuxedo pants I wore to my cousin's wedding. They're blue. Light blue."
"I've got these," said Embry, buttering his sixth roll, "and two pairs of sweats left. It's the shoes I'm hosed on. I had to throw out my last pair of sneakers."
I furrowed my brow in confusion. "Throw them out? Why?"
Jared snickered. "Embry was standing downwind when we burned the black-haired bloodsucker. Right in the smoke. He reeked."
"Laugh it up," Embry grumbled. "I got rid of everything I was wearing, and I still had to soak in tomato juice for three hours before I could stand myself. My mom is really pissed at me -- I can't get the red stains out of the tub."
"Try baking soda," suggested Emily.
My brain felt thick and slow as it tried to assimilate yet another new piece of information. "You... burned Laurent?"
"After he was in pieces." Jared grinned. "That's what you've gotta do -- rip 'em apart and light a match. You wouldn't believe how fast they go up, that venom or whatever is better than gasoline."
An image of Edward on a funeral pyre with flames leaping off his perfect marble body and lighting the night sky assualted my senses; the bread in my stomach turned heavy, and I swallowed against the sudden nausea. Emily must have seen the distress in my face, because she snapped, "That's very nice, boys. Can we talk slightly less about dismemberment, now?"
"Oh, come on, it's not like they were friends." Embry turned to me. "You weren't, right?"
"Um, I guess not," I said faintly. "I mean, I knew him, but... he was sort of about to eat me."
Embry smiled at Emily triumphantly. "See?"
"That doesn't make it appropriate dinner conversation."
Embry opened his mouth, but before he could respond, the front door swung open and Sam stepped through. I stole a discreet glance down; his shoes were indeed intact.
"Emily." It was just her name, but so much love saturated Sam's voice that I felt embarrassed, intrusive, like I was spying on an intimately private moment. I watched him cross the room in one huge stride and take her face in his wide hands. He pressed tiny kisses down the line of scars on her right cheek before bringing his mouth to hers.
Embry gave me a significant look, shaking his head. "See what I mean? Gross."
"That reminds me, I need to call Kim when I get home," said Jared thoughtfully. "I haven't seen her since sixth period at school."
"You mean yesterday?"
"Yeah."
"Jeez, how ever have you survived?"
"Shut up, Embry."
This was worse than any romantic movie; this was real, and the love and joy and peacefulness that radiated out of the couple standing five feet away stung my body. I set the remains of my roll down and wrapped my arms around my chest, the cast digging uncomfortably into my ribs.
Edward had looked at me like that once, the way Sam looked at Emily. And it had been just that perfect -- or at least I thought it had been. Maybe I'd just imagined the love in that topaz-colored gaze. Maybe I'd been lying to myself the entire time.
A piercing bell went off, making us all jump. Emily slapped a hand against a wind-up timer on the counter. "All right, scoot," she said, pushing Sam gently away from the oven door, laughing when he refused to budge. "C'mon, how am I supposed to feed your brothers if you don't get out of the way?"
"They'll manage," Sam retorted, smiling as he refused to let Emily out of his embrace.
"Thanks, man," said Embry pitifully. "We're all going to starve because you can't take your hands off the missus for thirty seconds. That's great." He ducked preemptively as Emily reached for her spoon.
"Are you going to finish that?" Jared said, pointing at my roll. I shook my head, more than a little overwhelmed, and in less time than it took to blink the whole thing was in Jared's mouth. "Thak ooo," he said, chewing.
I watched silently as the four of them bantered and joked like family. The amount of physical contact was overwhelming -- it seemed like at every moment someone was getting touched, or kissed, or nudged, or whacked with a spoon. It was loud and boisterous and warm and alive.
Too much too much too much.
After a few minutes, the front door swung open again; I turned in my seat to see Paul sniffing the air as he walked in. "Is that chicken?" he demanded, gravitating towards the oven. "It smells like chicken."
"It would be chicken if Sam would get out of the way," Emily said.
Paul looked at Sam, and Sam raised an eyebrow and nodded slightly in my direction. Paul sighed, then turned to me and reluctantly said, "Sorry about before, Bella."
"Um... thanks." I glanced over his gigantic shoulder nervously. There was no sign of Jacob. "Where's Jake?"
Paul snorted. "He's outside sulking."
Jared perked up at that bit of information. "Does that mean you won?"
"Of course." When Sam shook his head, Paul amended, "Well, okay, it was sort of a draw."
Embry and Jared both groaned and started talking at once, trying to get specific details of the fight to make their individual cases for having won the bet. As the noise in the kitchen increased exponentially, I slipped out of my seat and escaped out the front door without anyone except Emily noticing. She raised an eyebrow as I passed, but said nothing.
Once I was out of the din and close contact of the house, I could breathe easier. Jacob sat on the edge of the porch, digging the toe of his shoe into the mud.
I nodded towards his feet. "New sneakers?"
"They're Paul's. Sam made him lend them to me since he was such a dick." He dug the toe in a little deeper. "I don't have any more, and Billy said I'd have to go barefoot if I destroyed one more pair."
"I think Charlie has some old boots," I offered, sitting down on the stoop and pulling my knees to my chest. The afternoon breeze was cool and raised goosebumps on my arms. "I'll see if I can find something for you."
"Thanks."
I studied the forlorn expression on Jacob's face and felt my heart constrict. I didn't want to be part of a world where Jacob Black was sad. It was unthinkable, like the moon falling out of the sky. "Are you okay? Did you get hurt?" Jacob shrugged and held up his left arm -- a long gash sliced his forearm from elbow to wrist, but it looked weeks old. I gaped, horrified. "Is that from today?"
"Yeah." He scratched the edge of the wound and winced. "It's no big deal. It'll be gone in a few hours."
"Embry mentioned rapid healing," I murmured.
"Yep. Another wolf thing." The bitterness in his voice was tangible.
I swallowed and wrapped my arms tighter around my legs, hugging myself instead of him; the cast pressed unforgivingly against my right shin. "So, Jake," I said softly, "what is it that haven't you told me?"
Jacob kicked harder at the ground and refused to look up.
"I'm not an idiot," I persisted. "The others are acting like I'm supposed to know something I don't. Something more than just the wolf thing. Sam, Paul, Embry and Jared, even Emily..." I swallowed a second time. "Jake, I know what it's like to have to keep secrets--"
"Not like this, you don't," he muttered.
"--and," I continued, "I don't want you to have to... I mean, I don't want you to be forced to tell me--" my good hand clenched at the thought of Sam issuing another order "--but, I mean... everyone else already knows. They're looking at me funny and talking in circles and... I just want to know." My voice shook on the last few words, and I tried to cover it up with a smile. "After all, I already know you're a werewolf. How much worse can it get?"
It took a long moment, but Jacob finally raised his head to look at me; his brown, almost black eyes raked over my face, and I suddenly felt open and exposed, almost naked in front of him. That pain was back in his face, and the anger, and the something else -- the something that looked almost like... craving. "It's going to wreck everything, Bells," he warned huskily.
I held his gaze. "I still want to know."
Jacob bit his lip--
--and Embry chose that moment to burst through the front door with a clatter. "Dude," he said, "get your mopey ass in here or I'm eating your chicken." And I heard a voice call from inside, "You most certainly are not!"
Jacob and I turned to glare at him as one.
Embry took in our expressions and raised his hands in a gesture of surrender. "Okay, okay, fine, jeez. Forget I said anything." He backed slowly into the house and let the door swing shut.
This was doing nothing for my mood.
I looked back at Jacob, but he was studying the ground again. "Jake, please--"
"I'll tell you," he interrupted abruptly. "I will. I'll drive you home after this and I'll tell you."
I frowned. "You promise?"
"I promise," Jake said, the corner of his mouth turning up in a sad smile. "Can I just... you know, have some chicken first? I think it'll go better on a full stomach."
"But you promise," I persisted.
"I said I would, didn't I?" he said, but he didn't sound annoyed. He sounded... defeated. I hated it. "Bells, don't worry. I'm pretty sure I can't break a promise to you."
For some reason, dread uncurled in my stomach. It wasn't like I wanted Jacob to start breaking his promises, but the way he said it... "Okay," I said uncertainly, standing up. "We'd better get lunch, then, before Embry eats it."
"Sure, sure."
The scene in the kitchen was chaotic. When Emily had said 'chicken', what she had meant was chickens, plural. In fact, it looked like each person had gotten their own individual three pound bird. The table was covered with loose bones and flakes of dried rosemary; the boys were squeezed into the little wooden chairs, finishing off the last of the rolls.
Emily caught Jacob's eye and pointed to the remaining chicken on the counter. "I saved it for you, but you owe me." She held up the broken handle of her wooden spoon, presumably destroyed in the defense of his lunch.
"Thanks, Em." Jacob went straight to the counter and tore off a leg, not even bothering to sit down.
Sighing deeply, Emily reached past Jacob and handed me a sandwich on a china plate. She'd cut it into neat triangles. "Here, I thought you might prefer your chicken in a slightly less messy form. Do you like tomatoes and mayonnaise?" She sounded anxious. "If you don't, I can make something else."
"No, this is great. Thanks." I held the plate awkwardly, not quite sure how to manage with my casted hand.
Emily noticed, and kicked the leg of Embry's chair. "Up," she commanded.
Embry rolled his eyes. "It's always me," he grumbled as he vacated his spot at the table. "Why is it always me?"
"Because you're the biggest pest," Emily retorted as I slid into the chair and started eating with my left hand. The sandwich was perfect, and I suddenly found myself almost as ravenous as the others... almost. I at least managed not to spew bits of food everywhere or talk with my mouth full.
"Yeah, well, wait until Quil starts up -- you'll have a new whipping boy then."
The conversations went quiet as everyone looked down. I glanced around at the five nearly identical somber faces. No matter how comfortable they seemed to be with their fate, here in this happy kitchen, none of these boys wanted the same fate for their friend. But I thought of Quil's bitter words in my truck, and wondered if it would really be better for him to remain isolated and excluded from his friends and neighbors.
Being a werewolf had to be awful, but loneliness wasn't much to speak of either.
"Okay," Sam said after a moment. His tone suddenly rang with authority; I was beginning to recognize it as his Alpha Voice. "Now that we know what the red-head wants--"
"We do?" Jared said in surprise.
Sam nodded in my direction, and everyone -- everyone -- turned to look at me. I swallowed my sandwich and said meekly, "Uh, yeah. Me."
Jared, Embry, and Emily stared at me with open-mouthed surprise. Paul didn't react; he must have heard from Jacob already... or read Jacob's mind.
"How'd you figure that?" Jared's eyes were wide.
"The red-head is trying to avenge her mate," Jacob spoke up, setting down his nearly-finished chicken. "Except it wasn't the black-haired leech we killed. The Cullens got him last year." His face turned stormy. "Now she wants Bella."
Embry shook his head. "Um... okay... why?"
"I guess she figured killing me is the best way to get back at Edward," I explained. "You know... a mate for a mate." I fought to keep the pain in my chest down to a manageable level.
A growl came out of Jacob's throat. I looked up at him in surprise, but he stared resolutely at the opposite wall, not meeting my eyes.
"But that's ridiculous," Jared protested, looking back and forth between Jacob and I. "I mean, you can't be the mate of a bloodsucker. That wouldn't make any sense at all."
"In theory she isn't," Paul said, narrowing his eyes.
"Nah, she's not." But even Embry was examining me with a touch of suspicion. "Are you?"
The pain in my chest was becoming unbearable, made that much worse by being pinned in place by five sets of scrutinizing eyes; Jacob was the only one not staring at me and waiting expectantly for a response. With a miserable lump in my throat, I shook my head. "No," I whispered. "No, Victoria's got it wrong. I'm not his mate."
After all, I wasn't.
"Now that we know what she's after," Sam continued, thankfully moving the conversation along, "we'll change our patterns. We'll try leaving a few holes, and see if she falls for it. If we can circle around and close a trap, we can end this." Sam turned to me. "If you're willing, Bella, it would be helpful if you spent as much of your time in La Push as possible. We'll be able to catch her much more easily if she stays on our land."
Jacob made another wordless noise of discontent.
"Well, it's spring break for me, but what about Charlie?" I demanded. "What if she doesn't realize I'm here and gets to Forks?" The idea of my father, comfortable and asleep in his recliner, oblivious to a wild, cat-like woman bending toward his throat...
I started to shake.
"Can he be convinced to stay here on the rez too?" Sam persisted. "At Billy's, maybe?"
"I... maybe." I held my cast to my chest so that it wouldn't rattle against the table. "There's some big sports stuff going on, right? A basketball thing?"
"March Madness," Emily supplied.
"Yeah, that. Charlie would probably be willing to watch with Billy and Harry when he's not at work. Particularly if Harry makes fish fry." I couldn't stop shivering.
"We can arrange that."
Jared frowned at me. "Hey, you okay?" Without waiting for a response, he stepped forward and wrapped a warm arm around my shoulders. I instinctively leaned into his body heat, like a cat sprawling next to a radiator. "Wow, you're an icebox, girl."
Jacob glowered at Jared and started to tap a restless beat against the counter top.
"Do you have something to say, Jacob?" Sam said evenly, not turning to look at him.
"Naw, I'm fine." Jacob's voice dripped with sarcasm. "Our brilliant strategy is to dangle Bella as bait in front of a murderous vampire hellbent on revenge. I love this plan."
"Good." Sam's tone clearly said the conversation was over; Jacob ground his teeth and stared at the floor, but said nothing further. Sam glanced at Emily, then flicked his eyes back to me. "Bella, you still need to decide for yourself. Things can get... dangerous around here, get out of hand quickly, and I can't guarantee your saftey. If you'd prefer to stay in Forks, we will certainly protect you there as well. The choice is up to you."
I bit my lip, trying to draw warmth from the heat of Jared's arm still around my shoulders. It helped, but only on the surface. "But you think it will be easier for you if I'm in La Push? That you'll have a better chance of catching Victoria and not... getting hurt?"
"Yes," Sam said frankly.
"Then I'll stay here." There was no question at all. I didn't like this; I didn't like the idea of the people in this room facing down Victoria. I didn't care that they could turn into gigantic wolves. I didn't care that they'd already killed Laurent and come out unscathed. They were still just teenagers, and they were trying to destroy one of the most lethal creatures in existence. I would do anything I could to make them one iota safer.
I glanced over at Jacob.
Anything.
"All right then. We'll start tomorrow." Sam stood up from the table, and the rest of the pack followed suit with a sudden scraping of chairs against the floor. "We have a lot of things to prepare for. Embry, Jacob, I need you to--"
"I'm taking Bella home," Jacob interrupted. "I need to do that first."
Sam closed his mouth and looked at Jacob with that penetrating, too-knowing expression. Whatever he saw there must have satisfied him, because he nodded. "One hour," he cautioned. "Then be back."
Jacob nodded, then fixed a glare on Jared, who removed his arm from my shoulder and stepped back. "Hey, she was cold," Jared said in his defense. "It's not like I was copping a feel or anything."
I blushed.
"Uh-huh." Jacob's voice was short. "Ready to go, Bells?"
"Yeah." I stood up and smiled politely at Emily. "Thank you for lunch, it was really good."
"You're welcome. I hope I'll see you for lunch a lot this week," Emily said, smiling warmly. I nodded and I hoped my confusion wasn't showing; I couldn't figure out why this woman was so excited to be spending time with me. I was a total stranger -- not to mention an outsider with a history of running with vampires.
Well, I told myself as Jacob and I walked to the truck, she was probably a little bored. It wasn't like there were any other wolf girls to talk to. Of course, that raised a big question: was I a wolf girl now? It was something to ponder for the ride home.
I watched as Jacob started the engine with a shaking hand.
Among other things.
***
Chapter Six: Gravity
Sanity Update: True story -- while editing this chapter, I hit the following line: "Embry drove past the easternmost house on the highway before turning off onto a narrow dirt road." And I proceeded to flip my shit. "Holy God, what is that? What the hell is an 'easternmost house'? How does Bella know it's the easternmost house? Is easternmost a word? How the fuck did I write that? I don't remember writing that! Where is my brain?! What have I become?!?" Finally, after a full five minutes of total freakout, it occurred to me to go back and check the New Moon text, and sure enough, that line was one of the direct lifts. This means two things: first, I can no longer distinguish my own writing from Meyer's, and second... who the fuck cares what the second is, I CAN NO LONGER DISTINGUISH MY OWN WRITING FROM MEYER'S OH MY FUCKING GOD. (Husband's reaction to freakout: "You know how Dan goes and looks at a lake? Please go look at a lake.")
Author: audreyii_fic
Fandom: Twilight (Team Jacob)
Rating: T
Characters: Bella, Jacob, Charlie, and others (J/B)
Genre: Romance/Angst/Wolfpack!Humor
Warnings: Language, violence, and references to adult behavior
banner courtesy of lilabut
Summary: Jacob imprints on Bella. It changes things. A re-write of New Moon, beginning on page 242 in Chapter 10: "The Meadow." ( Link to the beginning.)
Chapter Five:
Disclaimer VII -- Adrian's Revenge: Substantial parts of this fiction continue to be lifted directly from the text of New Moon. I am happy to say, though, that New Moon is in no way mine; if it was, my old English teachers would have dropped dead of shame. Nor am I Stephenie Meyer, whose English teachers are, in fact, presumably deceased.
out in the hornet rain / the swarming stingers pumping poison through my veins
Laura Veirs, "Wide-Eyed, Legless"
5. Plans
The truck was relatively quiet as we drove. Embry concentrated on not damaging the poorly synced transmission; I concentrated on not having a panic attack.
"Are you sure Jacob's going to be all right?" I asked fretfully.
Embry rolled his eyes. "For the hundredth time, yes. Jeez, you've got to learn to have a little trust. We're werewolves, Bella, we can take a hit. Rapid healing and everything. Even if Jake breaks a few bones, he'll be all right by sundown." He frowned. "He better not, though, I've got ten bucks riding on this."
"Sorry." Sarcasm. "I've only had this information for an hour. I apologize for not understanding all the little ins and outs of werewolfhood yet."
"I guess that's true." He glanced at me sideways, a little smirk on his face. "Well, at least you didn't collapse or anything. Sam said that when he told Emily she passed out cold."
"And who's Emily, exactly?" I figured I had a right to know at least that much, since I was about to enter her home. Maybe she'd be more forthcoming than these cryptic little wolfboys.
I wasn't in a very good mood.
"She's Sam's girlfriend-- no, wait, fiancee. He popped the question, like, last month." Embry rolled his eyes again. He was going to damage his retinas if he wasn't careful. "You should have seen him, he didn't stop grinning for a week. It was gross."
"They're really in love, huh?" I felt the holes in my chest -- the ones left by Edward, anyway -- begin to burn with pain.
If Edward had asked me to marry him, how would I have reacted? Marriage wasn't something that mattered to me. If it was what he had wanted, though, if he had wanted to bind himself to me... but he hadn't.
I shook myself silently. I needed to stop this. There was too much happening right now for me to wallow in grief -- no matter how consuming that grief was.
"You have no idea," Embry replied, oblivious to my heartache. "The rest of us have to listen to his thoughts all the time. The second we're off of pack business, it's 'I love her' this and 'She's so wonderful' that. Jared's even worse. And Jake's head doesn't even make sense anymore--" He stopped speaking suddenly and cleared his throat. "Uh, never mind."
I made a disgusted noise and didn't even bother to ask for a clarification I knew I wouldn't get. Stupid werewolves.
Embry drove past the easternmost house on the highway before turning off onto a narrow dirt road. "Your truck is slow," he complained.
"Yeah, well, you'll have to talk to Jacob about that. He's the one that rebuilt it."
He snorted. "Right. I'm really going to tell Jake that something he built is a piece of shit. I like walking straight, thanks."
I gave him an evil glare. "Call my truck a piece of shit again and I'll see to it you don't walk straight." No one got to insult my truck.
Embry just laughed.
At the end of the lane we came to a tiny house with a narrow window and a faded blue door. The front porch was weathered and well-used, and the railing was covered in coffee cans full of potted flowers -- marigolds, daisies, daffodils, and a bunch of other plants I didn't recognize spilled across the wooden planks. The result was very home-y.
Embry opened the driver's side door and inhaled deeply. "Oh, thank God. Lunch. I was gonna collapse here in another minute." I raised an eyebrow, and he shrugged. "Hey, it takes a lot of calories to morph into a giant dog."
"I suppose that makes sense."
Jared jumped out of the back of the truck and headed for the door, the shredded sneaker in hand. I started to follow, but Embry darted in front of me and blocked my path. "Hey -- make sure you don't stare, okay? It bugs Sam."
"Why would I stare?" I asked, frowning; it wasn't like I didn't have any manners.
Embry fidgeted uncomfortably. "Because... well... just, you know, don't." He turned around and bounded up the steps after Jared, leaving me to follow timidly behind.
The front room, like Billy's house, was mostly kitchen. The counters were sparkling clean. A checkered cloth covered a medium-sized table, a vase of more flowers in peak bloom sitting in the center. The delicious smell of chicken and rosemary rose out of the oven, and young, slender woman with long, straight, shiny black hair stood with her back to me, scrubbing out a pot in the sink and humming. She was even wearing an apron.
Oh, no. I was in the home of a domestic goddess.
This was vastly more intimidating than werewolves. I thought briefly about diving under the tablecloth and hiding, but it would probably be noticed. Without so much as a 'hello', Embry strode over to the enormous oven and cracked open the door. "Oh, man, chicken."
With lightning speed, the woman -- Emily, surely -- whipped a wooden spoon out of the sink and whapped Embry on the head with it. "Stay out of there, you'll release all the heat and then you'll have to wait even longer," she scolded. Her melodic voice was good-natured, though. "I take it you're both hungry?"
"When are we not?"
"Never," she laughed. Then she turned around.
The left half of her face was lovely, with a perfect bow mouth and a dark, almond-shaped eye. But the right side was destroyed; her copper skin was marred from her hairline to her chin by three thick, red lines, livid in color though they were long healed. The scars twisted her features into a disfiguring mask.
I did my best to focus on the left side.
Emily looked slightly confused for a moment, but then her expression lit up, shining with an echo of the beauty that must have once been hers. "Bella Swan?" she guessed.
I nodded hesitantly.
One half of Emily's mouth turned up into a wide smile; the other half remained immobile. "I'm so glad to finally meet you," she said warmly, wiping her hands on a dishtowel. "I'm Emily, Sam's im--"
Jared coughed suddenly from his seat at the table. Emily looked over at him, and he shook his head.
Emily blinked, her right eyelid moving half a second slower than her left. It was a disconcerting effect. "Still?" she said incredulously.
"Yep," Jared said, shrugging. "I have no idea how he's pulling it off. I would never have thought it would go on this long."
"Well, that's Jacob for you," Emily murmured.
I resisted the urge to stamp my foot on the ground like a girl on TV. "Am I just supposed to guess what you're talking about?" I said, acid dripping from my voice. "Shouldn't I at least get a hint? Can we play charades or something?"
Jared smirked, but Emily at least looked chagrined. "I'm sorry, we're being rude," she apologized. "Would you like to sit? Embry, leave those alone," she added sharply, turning around.
Embry had gotten into a pan of rolls sitting on the counter. They were golden-brown and looked freshly baked. "Mmm h'ngry," he mumbled, mouth full. "Pwease?"
Emily sighed. "Fine, but save some for your brothers." Embry didn't need any more prompting; he pulled the pan off the counter and plopped down at the table, where he and Jared proceeded to tear into the bread like ravenous... well... wolves. "Can I offer you something to drink?" she said, turning back to me.
"Um, water, thanks," I replied, sitting down in one of the rickety wooden chairs, watching the boys eat with morbid fascination.
"Don't worry," Emily said. "They won't choke. And if they did it would teach them a lesson about table manners." She handed me a full glass, and I saw that the scars from her face extended all the way down her arm to the tips of the fingers on her right hand. The tip of her pinky was missing.
"Look at what could happen to you, Bella," Edward's golden voice whispered worriedly into my ear.
I jumped, and water sloshed out of the glass onto the tablecloth. "Oh, sorry," I said quickly, reaching for a napkin, my face burning. "Sorry about that."
"Don't worry, it's just water." Emily gave me a strange look as she reached for her dishtowel. "I've got it." She blotted up the spilled liquid, and I glanced at her scars again.
Had a werewolf made those?
Straightening up, Emily looked at the boys with fond exasperation. "Aren't you going to offer some bread to Bella?" she reprimanded, shaking her head. "Didn't your mothers teach you anything?"
Embry and Jared stopped chewing at the same moment, identical looks of contrition on their faces. The effect was priceless, and I bit my lip to keep from giggling.
"Sorry, Bella," Jared said sheepishly. He held out one of the remaining rolls.
"Put butter on it for her first," Emily said, looking pointedly at my incapacitated right arm. Jared obeyed, then reached across the table and set the roll down gently in front of me. "That's better," she said, mollified. "Honestly, you all act more like animals every day. I'm going to have Sam to order you all into charm school."
"Girl stuff," Embry muttered, and fast as a striking snake, Emily whacked him on the head with the wooden spoon again. "All right! We'll be good, we'll be good!"
"I should hope so. I've already broken too many utensils on your thick skull, Embry Call."
This time I couldn't hold back the giggle. I smothered it as quickly as I could with a mouthful of roll, which was warm and, somehow, just as disarming as the coffee cans of flowers. In spite of my nervousness, I could feel myself relaxing. It was difficult to be tense in a kitchen that smelled like roast chicken.
"So," Emily said, returning to the dishes, "how far behind are the others?"
"Depends on how far Paul and Jake rolled into the forest before Sam broke 'em up," Embry said, shrugging.
Emily groaned. "Please tell me Sam took his shoes off before he phased."
"Yep, he was good. They're gonna have to dig up some pants for Jake and Paul before coming here, though."
"Speaking of which, Em, I brought this for you." Jared held up the destroyed sneaker. "Can you fix it?"
Emily took the shoe from his hand, turning it over a few times. "Probably. Do you have the left one too?"
"Uh... no."
She rolled her eyes.
"So I guess you guys go through a lot of clothes?" I asked. In addition to feeling like I ought to offer something to the conversation -- it was good manners, and good manners seemed to be important to Emily -- I found myself genuinely curious about the mundane details of their supernatural lives. It wasn't every day a person shared a tray of dinner rolls with a bunch of werewolves.
"You have no idea," Jared said, shaking his head. "I'm on my last pair of shorts. After this it's the tuxedo pants I wore to my cousin's wedding. They're blue. Light blue."
"I've got these," said Embry, buttering his sixth roll, "and two pairs of sweats left. It's the shoes I'm hosed on. I had to throw out my last pair of sneakers."
I furrowed my brow in confusion. "Throw them out? Why?"
Jared snickered. "Embry was standing downwind when we burned the black-haired bloodsucker. Right in the smoke. He reeked."
"Laugh it up," Embry grumbled. "I got rid of everything I was wearing, and I still had to soak in tomato juice for three hours before I could stand myself. My mom is really pissed at me -- I can't get the red stains out of the tub."
"Try baking soda," suggested Emily.
My brain felt thick and slow as it tried to assimilate yet another new piece of information. "You... burned Laurent?"
"After he was in pieces." Jared grinned. "That's what you've gotta do -- rip 'em apart and light a match. You wouldn't believe how fast they go up, that venom or whatever is better than gasoline."
An image of Edward on a funeral pyre with flames leaping off his perfect marble body and lighting the night sky assualted my senses; the bread in my stomach turned heavy, and I swallowed against the sudden nausea. Emily must have seen the distress in my face, because she snapped, "That's very nice, boys. Can we talk slightly less about dismemberment, now?"
"Oh, come on, it's not like they were friends." Embry turned to me. "You weren't, right?"
"Um, I guess not," I said faintly. "I mean, I knew him, but... he was sort of about to eat me."
Embry smiled at Emily triumphantly. "See?"
"That doesn't make it appropriate dinner conversation."
Embry opened his mouth, but before he could respond, the front door swung open and Sam stepped through. I stole a discreet glance down; his shoes were indeed intact.
"Emily." It was just her name, but so much love saturated Sam's voice that I felt embarrassed, intrusive, like I was spying on an intimately private moment. I watched him cross the room in one huge stride and take her face in his wide hands. He pressed tiny kisses down the line of scars on her right cheek before bringing his mouth to hers.
Embry gave me a significant look, shaking his head. "See what I mean? Gross."
"That reminds me, I need to call Kim when I get home," said Jared thoughtfully. "I haven't seen her since sixth period at school."
"You mean yesterday?"
"Yeah."
"Jeez, how ever have you survived?"
"Shut up, Embry."
This was worse than any romantic movie; this was real, and the love and joy and peacefulness that radiated out of the couple standing five feet away stung my body. I set the remains of my roll down and wrapped my arms around my chest, the cast digging uncomfortably into my ribs.
Edward had looked at me like that once, the way Sam looked at Emily. And it had been just that perfect -- or at least I thought it had been. Maybe I'd just imagined the love in that topaz-colored gaze. Maybe I'd been lying to myself the entire time.
A piercing bell went off, making us all jump. Emily slapped a hand against a wind-up timer on the counter. "All right, scoot," she said, pushing Sam gently away from the oven door, laughing when he refused to budge. "C'mon, how am I supposed to feed your brothers if you don't get out of the way?"
"They'll manage," Sam retorted, smiling as he refused to let Emily out of his embrace.
"Thanks, man," said Embry pitifully. "We're all going to starve because you can't take your hands off the missus for thirty seconds. That's great." He ducked preemptively as Emily reached for her spoon.
"Are you going to finish that?" Jared said, pointing at my roll. I shook my head, more than a little overwhelmed, and in less time than it took to blink the whole thing was in Jared's mouth. "Thak ooo," he said, chewing.
I watched silently as the four of them bantered and joked like family. The amount of physical contact was overwhelming -- it seemed like at every moment someone was getting touched, or kissed, or nudged, or whacked with a spoon. It was loud and boisterous and warm and alive.
Too much too much too much.
After a few minutes, the front door swung open again; I turned in my seat to see Paul sniffing the air as he walked in. "Is that chicken?" he demanded, gravitating towards the oven. "It smells like chicken."
"It would be chicken if Sam would get out of the way," Emily said.
Paul looked at Sam, and Sam raised an eyebrow and nodded slightly in my direction. Paul sighed, then turned to me and reluctantly said, "Sorry about before, Bella."
"Um... thanks." I glanced over his gigantic shoulder nervously. There was no sign of Jacob. "Where's Jake?"
Paul snorted. "He's outside sulking."
Jared perked up at that bit of information. "Does that mean you won?"
"Of course." When Sam shook his head, Paul amended, "Well, okay, it was sort of a draw."
Embry and Jared both groaned and started talking at once, trying to get specific details of the fight to make their individual cases for having won the bet. As the noise in the kitchen increased exponentially, I slipped out of my seat and escaped out the front door without anyone except Emily noticing. She raised an eyebrow as I passed, but said nothing.
Once I was out of the din and close contact of the house, I could breathe easier. Jacob sat on the edge of the porch, digging the toe of his shoe into the mud.
I nodded towards his feet. "New sneakers?"
"They're Paul's. Sam made him lend them to me since he was such a dick." He dug the toe in a little deeper. "I don't have any more, and Billy said I'd have to go barefoot if I destroyed one more pair."
"I think Charlie has some old boots," I offered, sitting down on the stoop and pulling my knees to my chest. The afternoon breeze was cool and raised goosebumps on my arms. "I'll see if I can find something for you."
"Thanks."
I studied the forlorn expression on Jacob's face and felt my heart constrict. I didn't want to be part of a world where Jacob Black was sad. It was unthinkable, like the moon falling out of the sky. "Are you okay? Did you get hurt?" Jacob shrugged and held up his left arm -- a long gash sliced his forearm from elbow to wrist, but it looked weeks old. I gaped, horrified. "Is that from today?"
"Yeah." He scratched the edge of the wound and winced. "It's no big deal. It'll be gone in a few hours."
"Embry mentioned rapid healing," I murmured.
"Yep. Another wolf thing." The bitterness in his voice was tangible.
I swallowed and wrapped my arms tighter around my legs, hugging myself instead of him; the cast pressed unforgivingly against my right shin. "So, Jake," I said softly, "what is it that haven't you told me?"
Jacob kicked harder at the ground and refused to look up.
"I'm not an idiot," I persisted. "The others are acting like I'm supposed to know something I don't. Something more than just the wolf thing. Sam, Paul, Embry and Jared, even Emily..." I swallowed a second time. "Jake, I know what it's like to have to keep secrets--"
"Not like this, you don't," he muttered.
"--and," I continued, "I don't want you to have to... I mean, I don't want you to be forced to tell me--" my good hand clenched at the thought of Sam issuing another order "--but, I mean... everyone else already knows. They're looking at me funny and talking in circles and... I just want to know." My voice shook on the last few words, and I tried to cover it up with a smile. "After all, I already know you're a werewolf. How much worse can it get?"
It took a long moment, but Jacob finally raised his head to look at me; his brown, almost black eyes raked over my face, and I suddenly felt open and exposed, almost naked in front of him. That pain was back in his face, and the anger, and the something else -- the something that looked almost like... craving. "It's going to wreck everything, Bells," he warned huskily.
I held his gaze. "I still want to know."
Jacob bit his lip--
--and Embry chose that moment to burst through the front door with a clatter. "Dude," he said, "get your mopey ass in here or I'm eating your chicken." And I heard a voice call from inside, "You most certainly are not!"
Jacob and I turned to glare at him as one.
Embry took in our expressions and raised his hands in a gesture of surrender. "Okay, okay, fine, jeez. Forget I said anything." He backed slowly into the house and let the door swing shut.
This was doing nothing for my mood.
I looked back at Jacob, but he was studying the ground again. "Jake, please--"
"I'll tell you," he interrupted abruptly. "I will. I'll drive you home after this and I'll tell you."
I frowned. "You promise?"
"I promise," Jake said, the corner of his mouth turning up in a sad smile. "Can I just... you know, have some chicken first? I think it'll go better on a full stomach."
"But you promise," I persisted.
"I said I would, didn't I?" he said, but he didn't sound annoyed. He sounded... defeated. I hated it. "Bells, don't worry. I'm pretty sure I can't break a promise to you."
For some reason, dread uncurled in my stomach. It wasn't like I wanted Jacob to start breaking his promises, but the way he said it... "Okay," I said uncertainly, standing up. "We'd better get lunch, then, before Embry eats it."
"Sure, sure."
The scene in the kitchen was chaotic. When Emily had said 'chicken', what she had meant was chickens, plural. In fact, it looked like each person had gotten their own individual three pound bird. The table was covered with loose bones and flakes of dried rosemary; the boys were squeezed into the little wooden chairs, finishing off the last of the rolls.
Emily caught Jacob's eye and pointed to the remaining chicken on the counter. "I saved it for you, but you owe me." She held up the broken handle of her wooden spoon, presumably destroyed in the defense of his lunch.
"Thanks, Em." Jacob went straight to the counter and tore off a leg, not even bothering to sit down.
Sighing deeply, Emily reached past Jacob and handed me a sandwich on a china plate. She'd cut it into neat triangles. "Here, I thought you might prefer your chicken in a slightly less messy form. Do you like tomatoes and mayonnaise?" She sounded anxious. "If you don't, I can make something else."
"No, this is great. Thanks." I held the plate awkwardly, not quite sure how to manage with my casted hand.
Emily noticed, and kicked the leg of Embry's chair. "Up," she commanded.
Embry rolled his eyes. "It's always me," he grumbled as he vacated his spot at the table. "Why is it always me?"
"Because you're the biggest pest," Emily retorted as I slid into the chair and started eating with my left hand. The sandwich was perfect, and I suddenly found myself almost as ravenous as the others... almost. I at least managed not to spew bits of food everywhere or talk with my mouth full.
"Yeah, well, wait until Quil starts up -- you'll have a new whipping boy then."
The conversations went quiet as everyone looked down. I glanced around at the five nearly identical somber faces. No matter how comfortable they seemed to be with their fate, here in this happy kitchen, none of these boys wanted the same fate for their friend. But I thought of Quil's bitter words in my truck, and wondered if it would really be better for him to remain isolated and excluded from his friends and neighbors.
Being a werewolf had to be awful, but loneliness wasn't much to speak of either.
"Okay," Sam said after a moment. His tone suddenly rang with authority; I was beginning to recognize it as his Alpha Voice. "Now that we know what the red-head wants--"
"We do?" Jared said in surprise.
Sam nodded in my direction, and everyone -- everyone -- turned to look at me. I swallowed my sandwich and said meekly, "Uh, yeah. Me."
Jared, Embry, and Emily stared at me with open-mouthed surprise. Paul didn't react; he must have heard from Jacob already... or read Jacob's mind.
"How'd you figure that?" Jared's eyes were wide.
"The red-head is trying to avenge her mate," Jacob spoke up, setting down his nearly-finished chicken. "Except it wasn't the black-haired leech we killed. The Cullens got him last year." His face turned stormy. "Now she wants Bella."
Embry shook his head. "Um... okay... why?"
"I guess she figured killing me is the best way to get back at Edward," I explained. "You know... a mate for a mate." I fought to keep the pain in my chest down to a manageable level.
A growl came out of Jacob's throat. I looked up at him in surprise, but he stared resolutely at the opposite wall, not meeting my eyes.
"But that's ridiculous," Jared protested, looking back and forth between Jacob and I. "I mean, you can't be the mate of a bloodsucker. That wouldn't make any sense at all."
"In theory she isn't," Paul said, narrowing his eyes.
"Nah, she's not." But even Embry was examining me with a touch of suspicion. "Are you?"
The pain in my chest was becoming unbearable, made that much worse by being pinned in place by five sets of scrutinizing eyes; Jacob was the only one not staring at me and waiting expectantly for a response. With a miserable lump in my throat, I shook my head. "No," I whispered. "No, Victoria's got it wrong. I'm not his mate."
After all, I wasn't.
"Now that we know what she's after," Sam continued, thankfully moving the conversation along, "we'll change our patterns. We'll try leaving a few holes, and see if she falls for it. If we can circle around and close a trap, we can end this." Sam turned to me. "If you're willing, Bella, it would be helpful if you spent as much of your time in La Push as possible. We'll be able to catch her much more easily if she stays on our land."
Jacob made another wordless noise of discontent.
"Well, it's spring break for me, but what about Charlie?" I demanded. "What if she doesn't realize I'm here and gets to Forks?" The idea of my father, comfortable and asleep in his recliner, oblivious to a wild, cat-like woman bending toward his throat...
I started to shake.
"Can he be convinced to stay here on the rez too?" Sam persisted. "At Billy's, maybe?"
"I... maybe." I held my cast to my chest so that it wouldn't rattle against the table. "There's some big sports stuff going on, right? A basketball thing?"
"March Madness," Emily supplied.
"Yeah, that. Charlie would probably be willing to watch with Billy and Harry when he's not at work. Particularly if Harry makes fish fry." I couldn't stop shivering.
"We can arrange that."
Jared frowned at me. "Hey, you okay?" Without waiting for a response, he stepped forward and wrapped a warm arm around my shoulders. I instinctively leaned into his body heat, like a cat sprawling next to a radiator. "Wow, you're an icebox, girl."
Jacob glowered at Jared and started to tap a restless beat against the counter top.
"Do you have something to say, Jacob?" Sam said evenly, not turning to look at him.
"Naw, I'm fine." Jacob's voice dripped with sarcasm. "Our brilliant strategy is to dangle Bella as bait in front of a murderous vampire hellbent on revenge. I love this plan."
"Good." Sam's tone clearly said the conversation was over; Jacob ground his teeth and stared at the floor, but said nothing further. Sam glanced at Emily, then flicked his eyes back to me. "Bella, you still need to decide for yourself. Things can get... dangerous around here, get out of hand quickly, and I can't guarantee your saftey. If you'd prefer to stay in Forks, we will certainly protect you there as well. The choice is up to you."
I bit my lip, trying to draw warmth from the heat of Jared's arm still around my shoulders. It helped, but only on the surface. "But you think it will be easier for you if I'm in La Push? That you'll have a better chance of catching Victoria and not... getting hurt?"
"Yes," Sam said frankly.
"Then I'll stay here." There was no question at all. I didn't like this; I didn't like the idea of the people in this room facing down Victoria. I didn't care that they could turn into gigantic wolves. I didn't care that they'd already killed Laurent and come out unscathed. They were still just teenagers, and they were trying to destroy one of the most lethal creatures in existence. I would do anything I could to make them one iota safer.
I glanced over at Jacob.
Anything.
"All right then. We'll start tomorrow." Sam stood up from the table, and the rest of the pack followed suit with a sudden scraping of chairs against the floor. "We have a lot of things to prepare for. Embry, Jacob, I need you to--"
"I'm taking Bella home," Jacob interrupted. "I need to do that first."
Sam closed his mouth and looked at Jacob with that penetrating, too-knowing expression. Whatever he saw there must have satisfied him, because he nodded. "One hour," he cautioned. "Then be back."
Jacob nodded, then fixed a glare on Jared, who removed his arm from my shoulder and stepped back. "Hey, she was cold," Jared said in his defense. "It's not like I was copping a feel or anything."
I blushed.
"Uh-huh." Jacob's voice was short. "Ready to go, Bells?"
"Yeah." I stood up and smiled politely at Emily. "Thank you for lunch, it was really good."
"You're welcome. I hope I'll see you for lunch a lot this week," Emily said, smiling warmly. I nodded and I hoped my confusion wasn't showing; I couldn't figure out why this woman was so excited to be spending time with me. I was a total stranger -- not to mention an outsider with a history of running with vampires.
Well, I told myself as Jacob and I walked to the truck, she was probably a little bored. It wasn't like there were any other wolf girls to talk to. Of course, that raised a big question: was I a wolf girl now? It was something to ponder for the ride home.
I watched as Jacob started the engine with a shaking hand.
Among other things.
***
Chapter Six: Gravity
Sanity Update: True story -- while editing this chapter, I hit the following line: "Embry drove past the easternmost house on the highway before turning off onto a narrow dirt road." And I proceeded to flip my shit. "Holy God, what is that? What the hell is an 'easternmost house'? How does Bella know it's the easternmost house? Is easternmost a word? How the fuck did I write that? I don't remember writing that! Where is my brain?! What have I become?!?" Finally, after a full five minutes of total freakout, it occurred to me to go back and check the New Moon text, and sure enough, that line was one of the direct lifts. This means two things: first, I can no longer distinguish my own writing from Meyer's, and second... who the fuck cares what the second is, I CAN NO LONGER DISTINGUISH MY OWN WRITING FROM MEYER'S OH MY FUCKING GOD. (Husband's reaction to freakout: "You know how Dan goes and looks at a lake? Please go look at a lake.")