IF IT WAS ANYONE BUT JACOB, I THOUGHT TO MYSELF, shaking my head as I drove down the forest-lined highway to La Push.

　　I still wasn't sure if I was domg the right thing, but I'd made a compromise with myself.

　　I couldn't condone what Jacob and his friends, his pack, were doing. I understood now what he'd saidlast night—that I might not want to see him again—and I could have called him as he'd suggested, butthat felt cowardly. I owed him a face-to-face conversation, at least. I would tell him to his face that Icouldn't just overlook what was going on. I couldn't be friends with a killer and say nothing, let the killingcontinue… That would make me a monster, too.

　　But I couldn't not warn him, either. I had to do what I could to protect him.

　　I pulled up to the Blacks' house with my lips pressed together into a hard line. It was bad enough that mybest friend was a werewolf. Did he have to be a monster, too?

　　The house was dark, no lights in the windows, but I didn't care if I woke them. My fist thudded againstthe front door with angry energy; the sound reverberated through the walls.

　　"Come in," I heard Billy call after a minute, and a light flicked on.

　　I twisted the knob; it was unlocked. Billy was leaning around an open doorway just off the little kitchen, abathrobe around his shoulders, not in his chair yet. When he saw who it was, his eyes widened briefly,and then his face turned stoic.

　　"Well, good morning, Bella. What are you doing up so early?""Hey, Billy. I need to talk to Jake—where is he?""Um… I don't really know," he lied, straight-faced.

　　"Do you know what Charlie is doing this morning?" I demanded, sick of the stalling.

　　"Should I?""He and half the other men in town are all out in the woods with guns, hunting giant wolves."Billy's expression flickered, and then went blank.

　　"So I'd like to talk to Jake about that, if you don't mind," I continued.

　　Billy pursed his thick lips for a long moment. "I'd bet he's still asleep," he finally said, nodding toward the tiny hallway off the front room. "He's out late a lot these days. Kid needs his rest—probably youshouldn't wake him.""It's my turn," I muttered under my breath as I stalked to the hallway. Billy sighed.

　　Jacob's tiny closet of a room was the only door in the yard-long hallway. I didn't bother to knock. Ithrew the door open; it slammed against the wall with a bang.

　　Jacob—still wearing just the same black cut-off sweats he'd worn last night—was stretched diagonallyacross the double bed that took up all of his room but a few inches around the edges. Even on a slant, itwasn't long enough; his feet hung off the one end and his head off the other. He was fast asleep, snoringlightly with his mouth hanging open. The sound of the door hadn't even made him twitch.

　　His face was peaceful with (deep sleep, all the angry lines smoothed out. There were circles under hiseyes that I hadn't noticed before. Despite his ridiculous size, he looked very young now, and very weary.

　　Pity shook me.

　　I stepped back out, and shut the door quietly behind me.

　　Billy stared with curious, guarded eyes as I walked slowly back into the front room.

　　"I think I'll let him get some rest."Billy nodded, and then we gazed at each other for a minute. I was dying to ask him about his part in this.

　　What did he think of what his son had become? But I knew how he'd supported Sam from the verybeginning, and so I supposed the murders must not bother him. How he justified that to himself I couldn'timagine.

　　I could see many questions for me in his dark eyes, but he didn't voice them either.

　　"Look," I said, breaking the loud silence. "I'll be down at the beach for a while. When he wakes up, tellhim I'm waiting for him, okay?""Sure, sure," Billy agreed.

　　I wondered if he really would. Well, if he didn't, I'd tried, right?

　　I drove down to First Beach and parked in the empty dirt lot. It was still dark—the gloomy predawn of acloudy day—and when I cut the headlights it was hard to see. I had to let my eyes adjust before I couldfind the path that led through the tall hedge of weeds. It was colder here, with the wind whipping off theblack water, and I shoved my hands deep into the pockets of my winter jacket. At least the rain hadstopped.

　　I paced down the beach toward the north seawall. I couldn't see St. James or the other islands, just thevague shape of the water's edge. I picked my way carefully across the rocks, watching out for driftwoodthat might trip me.

　　I found what I was looking for before I realized I was looking for it. It materialized out of the gloom whenit was just a few feet away: a long bone-white driftwood tree stranded deep on the rocks. The rootstwisted up at the seaward end, like a hundred brittle tentacles. I couldn't be sure that it was the same treewhere Jacob and I had had our first conversation—a conversation that had begun so many different,tangled threads of my life—but it seemed to be in about the same place I sat down where I'd sat before,and stared out across the invisible sea.

　　 Seeing Jacob like that—innocent and vulnerable in sleep—had stolen all my revulsion, dissolved all myanger. I still couldn't turn a blind sye to what was happening, like Billy seemed to, but I couldn't condemnJacob for it either. Love didn't work that way, I decided. Once you cared about a person, it wasimpossible to be logical about them anymore. Jacob was my friend whether he killed people or not. AndI didn't know what I was going to do about that.

　　When I pictured him sleeping so peacefully, I felt an overpowering urge to protect him. Completelyillogical.

　　Illogical or not, I brooded over the memory his peaceful face, trying to come up with some answer, someway to shelter him, while the sky slowly turned gray.

　　"Hi,Bella."Jacob's voice came from the darkness and made me jump. It was soft, almost shy, but I'd been expectingsome forewarning from the noisy rocks, and so it still startled me. I could see his silhouette against thecoming sunrise—it looked enormous.

　　"Jake?"He stood several paces away, shifting his weight from foot to foot anxiously.

　　"Billy told me you came by—didn't take you very long, did it? I knew you could figure it out.""Yeah, I remember the right story now," I whispered.

　　It was quiet for a long moment and, though it was still too dark to see well, my skin prickled as if his eyeswere searching my face. There must have been enough light for him to read my expression, becausewhen he spoke again, his voice was suddenly acidic.

　　"You could have just called," he said harshly.

　　I nodded. "I know."Jacob started pacing along the rocks. If I listened very hard, I could just hear the gentle brush of his feeton the rocks behind the sound of the waves. The rocks had clattered like castanets for me.

　　"Why did you come?" he demanded, not halting his angry stride.

　　"I thought it would be better face-to-face."He snorted. "Oh, much better.""Jacob, I have to warn you—""About the rangers and the hunters? Don't worry about it. We already know.""Don't worry about it?" I demanded in disbelief. "Jake, they've got guns! They're setting traps andoffering rewards and—""We can take care of ourselves," he growled, still pacing. "They're not going to catch anything. They'reonly making it more difficult—they'll start disappearing soon enough, too.""Jake!" I hissed.

　　 "What? It's just a fact."My voice was pale with revulsion. "How can you… feel that way? You know these people. Charlie's outthere!" The thought made my stomach twist.

　　He came to an abrupt stop. "What more can we do?" he retorted.

　　The sun turned the clouds a slivery pink above us. I could see his expression now; it was angry,frustrated, betrayed.

　　"Could you… well, try to not be a… werewolf?" I suggested in a whisper.

　　He threw his hands up in the air. "Like I have a choice about it!" he shouted. "And how would that helpanything, if you're worried about people disappearing?""I don't understand you."He glared at me, his eyes narrowing and his mouth twisting into a snarl. "You know what makes me somad I could just spit?"I flinched away from his hostile expression. He seemed to be waiting for an answer, so I shook my head.

　　"You're such a hypocrite, Bella—there you sit, terrified of me! How is that fair?" His hands shook withanger.

　　"Hypocrite? How does being afraid of a monster make me a hypocrite?""Ugh!" he groaned, pressing his trembling fists to his temples and squeezing his eyes shut. "Would youlisten to yourself?""What?"He took two steps toward me, leaning over me and glaring with fury. "Well, I'm so sorry that I can't bethe right kind of monster for you, Bella. I guess I'm just not as great as a bloodsucker, am I?"I jumped to my feet and glared back. "No, you're not!" I shouted. "It's not what you are, stupid, it's whatyou do!""What's that supposed to mean?" He roared, his entire frame quivering with rage.

　　I was taken entirely by surprise when Edward's voice cautioned me. "Be very careful, Bella," his velvetvoice warned. "Don't push him too far. You need to calm him down."Even the voice in my head was making no sense today.

　　I listened to him, though. I would do anything for that voice.

　　"Jacob," I pleaded, making my tone soft and even. "Is it really necessary to kill people, Jacob? Isn't theresome other way? I mean, if vampires can find a way to survive without murdering people, couldn't yougive it a try, too?"He straightened up with a jerk, like my words had sent an electric shock through him. His eyebrows shotup and his eyes stared wide.

　　"Killing people?" he demanded.

　　 "What did you think we were talking about?"He wasn't trembling anymore. He looked at me with half-hopeful disbelief. "I thought we were talkingabout your disgust for werewolves.""No, Jake, no. It's not that you're a… wolf. That's fine," I promised him, and I knew as I said the wordsthat I meant them. I really didn't care if he turned into a big wolf—he was still Jacob. "If you could justfind a way not to hurt people… that's all that upsets me. These ate innocent people, Jake, people likeCharlie, and I can't just look the other way while you—""Is that all? Really?" he interrupted me, a smile breaking across his face. "You're just scared because I'ma murderer? That's the only reason?""Isn't that reason enough?"He started to laugh.

　　"Jacob Black, this is so notfunny!""Sure, sure," he agreed, still chortling.

　　He took one long stride and caught me in another vice-tight bear hug.

　　"You really, honestly don't mind that I morph into a giant dog?" he asked, his voice joyful in my ear.

　　"No," I gasped. "Can't—breathe—Jake!"He let me go, but took both my hands. "I'm not a killer, Bella."I studied his face, and it was clear that this was the truth. Relief pulsed through me.

　　"Really?" I asked.

　　"Really," he promised solemnly.

　　I threw my arms around him. It reminded me of that first day with the motorcycles—he was bigger,though, and I felt even more like a child now.

　　Like that other time, he stroked my hair.

　　"Sorry I called you a hypocrite," he apologized.

　　"Sorry I called you a murderer."He laughed.

　　I thought of something then, and pulled away from him so that I could see his face. My eyebrowsfurrowed in anxiety. "What about Sam? And the others?"He shook his head, smiling like a huge burden had been removed from his shoulders. "Of course not.

　　Don't you remember what we call ourselves?"The memory was clear—I'd just been thinking of that very day. "Protectors?""Exactly." "But I don't understand. What's happening in the woods? The missing hikers, the blood?"His face was serious, worried at once. "We're trying to do our job, Bella. We're trying to protect them,but we're always just a little too late.""Protect them from what? Is there really a bear out there, too?""Bella, honey, we only protect people from one thing—our one enemy. It's the reason we exist—becausethey do."I stared at him blankly for one second before I understood. Then the blood drained from my face and athin, wordless cry of horror broke through my lips.

　　He nodded. "I thought you, of all people, would reali2e what was really going on.""Laurent," I whispered. "He's still here."Jacob blinked twice, and cocked his head to one side. "Who's Laurent?"I tried to sort out the chaos in my head so that I could answer. "You know—you saw him in themeadow. You were there…" The words came out in a wondering tone as it all sunk in. "You were there,and you kept him from killing me…""Oh, the black-haired leech?" He grinned, a tight, fierce grin. "Was that his name?"I shuddered. "What were you thinking?" I whispered. "He could have killed you! Jake, you don't realizehow dangerous—"Another laugh interrupted me "Bella, one lone vampire isn't much of a problem for a pack as big as ours.

　　It was so easy, it was hardly even fun!""What was so easy?""Killing the bloodsucker who was going to kill you. Now, I don't count that towards the whole murderthing," he added quickly. "Vampires don't count as people."I could only mouth the words. "You… killed… Laurent?"He nodded. "Well, it was a group effort," he qualified.

　　"Laurent is dead?" I whispered.

　　His expression changed. "You're not upset about that, are you? He was going to kill you—he was goingfor the kill, Bella, we were sure of that before we attacked. You know that, right?""I know that. No, I'm not upset—I'm…" I had to sit down. I stumbled back a step until I felt thedriftwood against my calves, and then sank down onto it. "Laurent is dead. He's not coming back forme.""You're not mad? He wasn't one of your friends or anything, was he?""My friend?" I stared up at him, confused and dizzy with relief. I started babbling, my eyes getting moist.

　　"No, Jake. I'm so… so relieved. I thought he was going to find me—I've been waiting for him everynight, just hoping that he'd stop with me and leave Charlie alone. I've been so frightened, Jacob… Buthow? He was a vampire! How did you kill him? He was so strong, so hard, like marble…" He sat down next to me and put one big arm around me comfortingly. "It's what we're made for, Bells.

　　We're strong, too. I wish you would have told me that you were so afraid. You didn't need to be.""You weren't around," I mumbled, lost in thought.

　............