New Moon, стр. 54

"Weird," I muttered.

"Very," he agreed. "It's kind of a wolf thing."

"Huh" was the best response I could think of.

"Yeah, there's a load of stuff like that—wolf things. I'm still learning. I can't imagine what it was like for Sam, trying to deal with this alone. It sucks bad enough to go through it with a whole pack for support."

"Sam was alone?"

"Yeah." Jacob's voice lowered. "When I… changed, it was the most… horrible, the most terrifying thing I've ever been through—worse than anything I could have imagined. But I wasn't alone—there were the voices there, in my head, telling me what had happened and what I had to do. That kept me from losing my mind, I think. But Sam…" He shook his head. "Sam had no help."

This was going to take some adjusting. When Jacob explained it like that, it was hard not to feel compassion for Sam. I had to keep reminding myself that there was no reason to hate him anymore.

"Will they be angry that I'm with you?" I asked.

He made a face. "Probably."

"Maybe I shouldn't—"

"No, it's okay," he assured me. "You know a ton of things that can help us. It's not like you're just some ignorant human. You're like a… I don't know, spy or something. You've been behind enemy lines."

I frowned to myself. Was that what Jacob would want from me? Insider information to help them destroy their enemies? I wasn't a spy, though. I hadn't been collecting that kind of information. Already, his words made me feel like a traitor.

But I wanted him to stop Victoria, didn't I?

No.

I did want Victoria to be stopped, preferably before she tortured me to death or ran into Charlie or killed another stranger. I just didn't want Jacob to be the one to stop her, or rather to try. I didn't want Jacob within a hundred miles of her.

"Like the stuff about the mind-reading bloodsucker," he continued, oblivious to my reverie. "That's the kind of thing we need to know about. That really sucks that those stories are true. It makes everything more complicated. Hey, do you think this Victoria can do anything special?"

"I don't think so," I hesitated, and then sighed. "He would have mentioned it."

"He? Oh, you mean Edward—oops, sorry. I forgot. You don't like to say his name. Or hear it."

I squeezed my midsection, trying to ignore the throbbing around the edges of my chest. "Not really, no."

"Sorry."

"How do you know me so well, Jacob? Sometimes it's like you can read my mind."

"Naw. I just pay attention."

We were on the little dirt road where Jacob had first taught me to ride the motorcycle.

"This good?" I asked.

"Sure, sure."

I pulled over and cut the engine.

"You're still pretty unhappy, aren't you?" he murmured.

I nodded, staring unseeingly into the gloomy forest.

"Did you ever think… that maybe… you're better off?"

I inhaled slowly, and then let my breath out. "No."

"'Cause he wasn't the best—"

"Please, Jacob," I interrupted, begging in a whisper. "Could we please not talk about this? I can't stand it."

"Okay." He took a deep breath. "I'm sorry I said anything."

"Don't feel bad. If things were different, it would be nice to finally be able to talk to someone about it."

He nodded. "Yeah, I had a hard time keeping a secret from you for two weeks. It must be hell to not be able to talk to anyone."

"Hell," I agreed.

Jacob sucked in a sharp breath. "They're here. Let's go."

"Are you sure?" I asked while he popped his door open. "Maybe I shouldn't be here."

"They'll deal with it," he said, and then he grinned. "Who's afraid of the big, bad wolf?"

"Ha ha," I said. But I got out of the truck, hurrying around the front end to stand close beside Jacob. I remembered only too clearly the giant monsters in the meadow. My hands were trembling like Jacob's had been before, but with fear rather than rage.

Jake took my hand and squeezed it. "Here we go."

14 FAMILY

I COWERED INTO JACOB'S SIDE, MY EYES SCANNING the forest for the other werewolves. When they appeared, striding out from between the trees, they weren't what I was expecting. I'd gotten the image of the wolves stuck in my head. These were just four really big half-naked boys.

Again, they reminded me of brothers, quadruplets. Something about the way they moved almost in synchronization to stand across the road from us, the way they all had the same long, round muscles under the same red-brown skin, the same cropped black hair, and the way their expressions altered at exactly the same moment.

They started out curious and cautious. When they saw me there, half-hidden beside Jacob, they all became furious in the same second.

Sam was still the biggest, though Jacob was getting close to catching up with him. Sam didn't really count as a boy. His face was older—not in the sense of lines or signs of aging, but in the matunry, the patience of his expression.

"What have you done, Jacob?" he demanded.

One of the others, one I didn't recognize—Jared or Paul—thrust past Sam and spoke before Jacob could defend himself.

"Why can't you just follow the rules, Jacob?" he yelled, throwing his arms in the air. "What the hell are you thinking? Is she more important than everything—than the whole tribe? Than the people getting killed?"

"She can help," Jacob said quietly.

"Help!" the angry boy shouted. His arms begin to quiver. "Oh, that's likely! I'm sure the leech-lover is just dying to help us out!"

"Don't talk about her like that!" Jacob shouted back, stung by the boy's criticism.

A shudder rippled through the other boy, along his shoulders and down his spine.

"Paul! Relax!" Sam commanded.

Paul shook his head back and forth, not in defiance, but as though he were trying to concentrate.

"Jeez, Paul," one of the other boys—probably Jared—muttered. "Get a grip."

Paul twisted his head toward Jared, his lips curling back in irritation. Then he shifted his glare in my direction. Jacob took a step to put himself in front of me.

That did it.

"Right, protect her!" Paul roared in outrage. Another shudder, a convulsion, heaved through his body. He threw his head back, a real growl tearing from between his teeth.

"Paul!" Sam and Jacob shouted together.

Paul seemed to fall forward, vibrating violently. Halfway to the ground, there was a loud ripping noise, and the boy exploded.

Dark silver fur blew out from the boy, coalescing into a shape more than five-times his size—a massive, crouched shape, ready to spring.

The wolf's muzzle wrinkled back over his teeth, and another growl rolled through his colossal chest. His dark, enraged eyes focused on me.

In the same second, Jacob was running across the road straight for the monster.

"Jacob!" I screamed.

Mid-stride, a long tremor shivered down Jacob's spine. He leaped forward, diving headfirst into the empty air.

With another sharp tearing sound, Jacob exploded, too. He burst out of his skin—shreds of black and white cloth blasted up into the air. It happened so quickly that if I'd blinked, I'd have missed the entire transformation. One second it was Jacob diving into the air, and then it was the gigantic, russet brown wolf—so enormous that I couldn't make sense of its mass somehow fitting inside Jacob—charging the crouched silver beast.

Jacob met the other werewolf's attack head-on. Their angry snarls echoed like thunder off the trees.

The black and white scraps—the remains of Jacob's clothes—fluttered to the ground where he'd disappeared.

"Jacob!" I screamed again, staggering forward.

"Stay where you are, Bella," Sam ordered. It was hard to hear him over the roar of the fighting wolves. They were snapping and tearing at each other, their sharp teeth flashing toward each other's throats. The Jacob-wolf seemed to have the upper hand—he was visibly bigger than the other wolf, and it looked like le was stronger, too. He rammed his shoulder against the gray wolf again and again, knocking him back toward the trees.