“A letter?”
“A . . . wedding invitation.”
Every muscle in my body locked into place. A feather of heat seemed to brush down my back. I held onto the table to keep my hands steady.
Billy went on like he hadn’t noticed. “There’s a note inside that’s addressed to you. I didn’t read it.”
He pulled a thick ivory envelope from where it was wedged between his leg and the side of his wheelchair. He laid it on the table between us.
“You probably don’t need to read it. Doesn’t really matter what it says.”
Stupid reverse psychology. I yanked the envelope off the table.
It was some heavy, stiff paper. Expensive. Too fancy for Forks. The card inside was the same, too done-up and formal. Bella’d had nothing to do with this. There was no sign of her personal taste in the layers of see-through, petal-printed pages. I’d bet she didn’t like it at all. I didn’t read the words, not even to see the date. I didn’t care.
There was a piece of the thick ivory paper folded in half with my name handwritten in black ink on the back. I didn’t recognize the handwriting, but it was as fancy as the rest of it. For half a second, I wondered if the bloodsucker was into gloating.
I flipped it open.
Jacob,
I’m breaking the rules by sending you this. She was afraid of hurting you, and she didn’t want to make you feel obligated in any way. But I know that, if things had gone the other way, I would have wanted the choice.
I promise I will take care of her, Jacob. Thank you — for her — for everything.
Edward
“Jake, we only have the one table,” Billy said. He was staring at my left hand.
My fingers were clamped down on the wood hard enough that it really was in danger. I loosened them one by one, concentrating on that action alone, and then clenched my hands together so I couldn’t break anything.
“Yeah, doesn’t matter anyway,” Billy muttered.
I got up from the table, shrugging out of my t-shirt as I stood. Hopefully Leah had gone home by now.
“Not too late,” Billy mumbled as I punched the front door out of my way.
I was running before I hit the trees, my clothes strewn out behind me like a trail of crumbs — as if I wanted to find my way back. It was almost too easy now to phase. I didn’t have to think. My body already knew where I was going and, before I asked it to, it gave me what I wanted.
I had four legs now, and I was flying.
The trees blurred into a sea of black flowing around me. My muscles bunched and released in an effortless rhythm. I could run like this for days and I would not be tired. Maybe, this time, I wouldn’t stop.
But I wasn’t alone.
So sorry, Embry whispered in my head.
I could see through his eyes. He was far away, to the north, but he had wheeled around and was racing to join me. I growled and pushed myself faster.
Wait for us, Quil complained. He was closer, just starting out from the village.
Leave me alone, I snarled.
I could feel their worry in my head, try hard as I might to drown it in the sound of the wind and the forest. This was what I hated most — seeing myself through their eyes, worse now that their eyes were full of pity. They saw the hate, but they kept running after me.
A new voice sounded in my head.
Let him go. Sam’s thought was soft, but still an order. Embry and Quil slowed to a walk.
If only I could stop hearing, stop seeing what they saw. My head was so crowded, but the only way to be alone again was to be human, and I couldn’t stand the pain.
Phase back, Sam directed them. I’ll pick you up, Embry.
First one, then another awareness faded into silence. Only Sam was left.
Thank you, I managed to think.
Come home when you can. The words were faint, trailing off into blank emptiness as he left, too. And I was alone.
So much better. Now I could hear the faint rustle of the matted leaves beneath my toenails, the whisper of an owl’s wings above me, the ocean — far, far in the west — moaning against the beach. Hear this, and nothing more. Feel nothing but speed, nothing but the pull of muscle, sinew, and bone, working together in harmony as the miles disappeared behind me.
If the silence in my head lasted, I would never go back. I wouldn’t be the first one to choose this form over the other. Maybe, if I ran far enough away, I would never have to hear again. . . .
I pushed my legs faster, letting Jacob Black disappear behind me.
Acknowledgments
I would be very remiss if I did not thank the many people who helped me survive the birthing of another novel:
My parents have been my rock; I don’t know how anyone does this without a dad’s good advice and a mom’s shoulder to cry on.
My husband and sons have been incredibly long-suffering—anyone else would have had me committed to an asylum long ago. Thanks for keeping me around, guys.
My Elizabeth—Elizabeth Eulberg, publicist extraordinaire—has made all the difference to my sanity both on and off the road. Few people are lucky enough to work so closely with their BFF, and I am eternally grateful for the wholesomeness of cheese-loving Midwestern girls.
Jodi Reamer continues to guide my career with genius and finesse. It is very comforting to know that I am in such good hands.
It is also wonderful to have my manuscripts in the right hands. Thanks to Rebecca Davis for being so in tune with the story in my head and helping me find the best ways to express it. Thanks to Megan Tingley, first for your unwavering faith in my work, and second for polishing that work until it shines.
Everyone at Little, Brown and Company Books for Young Readers has taken such amazing care of my creations. I can tell it is a true labor of love for you all, and I appreciate it more than you know. Thank you Chris Murphy, Shawn Foster, Andrew Smith, Stephanie Voros, Gail Doobinin, Tina McIntyre, Ames O’Neill, and the many others who have made the Twilight series a success.
I can’t believe how lucky I was to discover Lori Joffs, who somehow manages to be both the fastest and the most meticulous reader at the same time. I am thrilled to have a friend and accomplice who is so insightful, talented, and patient with my whining.
Lori Joffs again, along with Laura Cristiano, Michaela Child, and Ted Joffs, for creating and maintaining the brightest star in the Twilight online universe, the Twilight Lexicon. I truly appreciate all the hard work you put into providing a happy place for my fans to hang out. Thanks also to my international friends at Crepusculo-es.com for a site so amazing it transcends the language barrier. Kudos as well to Brittany Gardener’s fabulous work on the Twilight and New Moon by Stephenie Meyer MySpace Group, a fan site so large that the idea of keeping track of it boggles my mind; Brittany, you amaze me.
Katie and Audrey, Bella Penombra is a thing of beauty.
Heather, the Nexus rocks.
I can’t mention all the amazing sites and their creators here,
but thank you very much to each of you.
Many thanks to my cold readers, Laura Cristiano, Michelle Vieira,
Bridget Creviston, and Kimberlee Peterson, for their invaluable input
and encouraging enthusiasm.
Every writer needs an independent bookstore for a friend;
