the meadow

Jules didn't call.

Unable to quite curb my impatience and growing anxiety, I called the Black house again the next day after school, and Bonnie answered to tell me that Jules was still bed-ridden, and needed rest. When I pressed her, she said that she had taken Jules in to see a doctor, but there was something in Bonnie's tone that, for some reason, made me not entirely sure I believed her. For the next several days, I called repeatedly, before school, and multiple times over the course of each afternoon, but no one answered.

By the time Saturday arrived I simply couldn't take anymore, and I leaped in my truck to head over to La Push, even though Jules hadn't given me the okay. However, I arrived to find the house empty. It struck me that whatever Jules had come down with, maybe it was serious enough Bonnie had had to take her to the hospital. I made a run over there next, but when I spoke to the staff member manning the front desk he told me neither Jules nor Bonnie had been in.

I knew I was acting at best like an overzealous nanny, at worst a stalker, but I couldn't sit still until I saw her, and made sure she was okay. Her tone of voice when I'd last spoken to her kept going through my mind, and I couldn't quite suppress the sense that something was seriously wrong.

"Hey, Dad," I said as Charlie came in the door, just off work. I was at the stove, working on a fish stir fry.

"Hey, kid," he answered as he clumped in through the hall.

I called, trying to make my voice casual, "Hey, Dad, um, do you think you could do me a favor?"

Something in my voice must have sounded off, because he came and poked his head around the corner, eying me warily. "Favor?"

I kept my eyes on the stir-fry. "Jules seemed pretty sick when I saw her last Friday. I've been trying to find out how she's doing, but I haven't seen her." I shrugged. "You know a lot of people down at La Push...I don't know if you could call someone and find out anything. One of the Clearwaters, maybe..."

Charlie stared at me, mystified. "If you want to find out how she's doing, why don't you just call Bonnie?"

Again I concentrated hard on the stir fry in front of me, tossing the contents up and flipping them over with a spatula. "I tried, but they don't answer, and they didn't go to the hospital. They weren't at the house either, when I went down there. Maybe they've gone to stay with someone for awhile, you know, while Jules needs to be taken care of."

"Well...all right," Charlie said slowly. "I'm sure she's just fine, these things go around. But I'll see what Saul or Holly have to say if it'll make you feel better." He went back to take off his gun belt and jacket, then headed for the phone.

Charlie greeted Saul Clearwater. However, he didn't mention Jules right away, and instead they exchanged pleasantries and general updates for a minute. Apparently Holly Clearwater had been in the hospital a short while ago, having had a bit of a health scare, a heart murmur. She wasn't making a bit deal out of it, but Saul was worried, and Charlie seemed equally concerned at the news. When Charlie finally got around to asking about the Blacks and Jules, I listened hard, but I couldn't make out the response.

When Charlie finally finished and hung up, he looked a little distracted, probably still worried about Holly Clearwater. He'd been friends with both the Clearwaters forever.

I'd been standing right beside him, arms folded the entire time. Finally I prompted, "Jules?"

Charlie shook his head. "Apparently there's been some trouble with the phone lines, which is why your calls haven't been getting through. Bonnie took her to a doctor down there on the reservation, and seems she's come down with mono. She's pretty tired, and Bonnie's not letting her have any visitors."

"But they'll make an exception for me," I said. I sounded like a pushy mid-level employee, trying to make myself out to be a big shot.

Charlie gave me a look. "No visitors," he repeated. "That's what Bonnie said. I better not hear you're down there making a nuisance of yourself. I mean it, Beau. Let them alone, Bonnie knows what's best for Julie. That girl will be up and about again before long, just wait it out."

I wanted to argue, but I didn't see the point. Charlie wasn't the one I had to convince. So I just nodded, and turned for the stairs.

I got to my room, and went straight to the ancient computer on my desk. After a tedious ten minutes of waiting for the thing to wheeze to life, I did a search online on mono. However, none of the symptoms seemed to fit—the fever, maybe, but Jules hadn't mentioned anything about a sore throat, exhaustion, or headaches. In fact, she'd acted like she felt pretty good. With classic mono, it seemed it usually it snuck up on you gradually, the aches and pains coming first, followed later on by other symptoms.

I wondered why I was double-checking Bonnie's story. I just couldn't push away the feeling that something was off—but maybe it was just the prospect of being separated for a long time, and I was grabbing at any excuse to break the ban.

I scrolled down through the article. Apparently someone with mono needed to avoid physical activity as much as possible, but I couldn't find anything about keeping them in quarantine. It wasn't a particularly infectious bug—the most common way it was spread was through saliva, which was why it was generally known as a kissing disease. Maybe Bonnie was worried about that.

As my eyes flickered over the general duration of the sickness, I nearly choked. Mono apparently could last for months on end—Bonnie couldn't really keep us apart that long, could she?

I decided I would give it a week. If, by next Saturday, Jules still hadn't called, then neither Bonnie nor anybody else would stand in my way of going to see her with my own two eyes. One week—that was generous.

As we'd already been almost a week apart since my bout of flu last weekend, I didn't expect the promise to be such a hard one to keep. I'd found ways to keep busy through the week, anticipating the things we would do when we were reunited, so I was mostly okay except for the nightmares. The fact I couldn't get a hold of her by phone troubled me, and I was worried about her, but for myself, those few days away from the girl I was, embarrassingly, starting to secretly think of like my personal sun, weren't as hard as I might have expected.

Week two was a completely different story.

It seemed to me that, if Jules's presence had been like morphine to me all this time, then apparently all the months of spending time together had simply let it seep into my system so deeply that it had been enough to linger, lasting me a few extra days even when I was cut off from the source. Now any last vestiges of the drug that had still be permeating my system had completely dried up, and after the months of our continuously being together, I was in massive withdrawal.

Sunday was long. The minutes crawled by like hours, and the hours were like days. Monday at school was worse. By Wednesday, I was sure I was going to lose my mind long before Saturday arrived.

I began to realize that, when I'd made that promise to myself to wait a week, I hadn't really believed that Jules would actually listen to Bonnie's edict, at least not for that long. I was sure she'd find a way to see me, or at least call to talk to me, or even if her throat was so bad she couldn't talk, at least listen to me talk to her. But as every day before school and after school I rushed into the kitchen to check the message machine, there was nothing.

I didn't quite keep my bargain with myself to leave well enough alone until Saturday, and tried calling her house again more than once, but apparently the lines were still down.

I knew I was acting pathetic, and I was aware of Charlie quietly observing me with some concern as he watched me restlessly pace about the house, and keep circling back to the phone again and again. But I was completely beyond caring how I might look to other people. I'd been stuck in the house alone way too much lately, not helped by the fact that the Newtons had given me both last week and this week off to make sure I was completely recovered from my case of stomach flu before I went back to work—likely they didn't want me infecting customers—and having nothing to do to keep my head on other things, the all-consuming, mind-numbing pain of a few months ago was starting to creep back in.

I'd long since been keeping a bucket next to my bed, in case I wasn't fast enough to make it to the bathroom as I reached that point in my nightmares where I woke up and I had to retch. But now without the days and afternoons with Jules to look forward to—laughing doing homework, hiking out in the forest, riding our bikes—I began to live in dread the coming of nights, just like before. The coming of the nothingness. The sense of hope, the feeling that it would end, faded, and once again there was nothing to pull me through. Samantha crept back into my dreams, too, but she was just a shadowy figure, watching my pain from behind cool, unpitying eyes, and I paid her no mind. The ripping pain of the ragged hole in my chest didn't abate.

When I started awake from my latest nightmare, falling to my knees on the floor and filling the old tin bucket Charlie had gotten for me with a watery, milky white substance, I remembered that it was Saturday, and I was so relieved I could have cried.

My self-inflicted jail time was up, and I was going to do whatever it took to see Jules. I'd try calling her, and if I couldn't get a hold of her, which I doubted I would, then I was headed to La Push. If she wasn't home, I'd knock on every door and talk to every neighbor until I found out where she was and what was going on.

The anticipation of having a plan of action cheered me considerably as I went downstairs to the phone, and my fingers flew over the familiar number I'd hit a thousand times. I waited.

I nearly dropped the phone in surprise when Bonnie answered on the second ring.

"Hello?"

"Oh, hey," I said, recovering. "Great, your phone's back, Saul Clearwater told us it's been down. How's Jules doing? Can she see anybody yet? I was thinking of coming over." Of course, the question was immaterial, as even if Bonnie refused, I was going to go down anyway. I'd knock down the door if I had to.

Bonnie seemed to hesitate. "Yes...Yes, she's better. Turned out it wasn't mono after all, just a bug. She's over it now. But I'm afraid she's not in at the moment."

It took me a second to process that. "Oh...that's...that's great," I managed. "So...where is she?"

"She's giving some friends a ride up to Port Angeles—she said something about catching a double-feature there. She'll be out the rest of the day."

I was silent. I had no clue what to say. "Well," I said at last. "Well, it's good to know she's feeling better. I've been kind of worried."

"Do you have a message you'd like me to pass along for you?" Bonnie asked politely.

"No..." I said. "No, I...no. That's okay."

"I'll tell her that you called," Bonnie told me. "See you later, Beau."

"See you," I answered, but she'd already hung up. Maybe it was just as well—my voice had cracked on the last word.

I set down the receiver and leaned against the counter, my legs suddenly weak.

So, Jules was feeling better. Good enough to drive out to Port Angeles with friends. But she hadn't called. Not to tell me it was okay to come see her, not just to talk...not even to tell me she was better. That didn't seem like her. But then again...

My hands folded together, my fingers kneading the skin with growing agitation.

Jules was my best friend. I'd thought she'd seen me the same way, and I'd expected she'd hate having an entire two weeks apart almost as much as I did. But was it possible I'd just completely misjudged? Jules obviously wasn't in the middle of some kind of severe depression, and maybe it was possible, even likely, that she didn't view our friendship at all the same way I did. Her presence was like the sun to me, the air—But maybe I was just some guy to kill time with. One friend among many. Or maybe, even worse, being away from me had just given her a little perspective—maybe she'd come to realize how needy I was, and that the best thing to do was to try to get away from me before I sucked the life out of her.

I shook my head, trying to get a grip. I was overreacting. She probably just hadn't realized how big a deal being apart for a week or two was for me, and she was so happy to be feeling better that calling me had just slipped her mind. Or maybe something big had happened, like she'd finally made up with Emma and gotten her away from Sam, and she was so ecstatic they'd gone and made plans, just like old times.

At this possibility, I hesitated. A feeling I couldn't quite define flickered at the back of my mind.

That would definitely be a good thing, if that were true. Jules had been worried about Emma, so if it was all somehow resolved, I could only imagine how happy she would be. Yet even as I knew the possibility ought to make me glad, relieved, instead I felt my stomach tighten with nerves as a new thought occurred to me.

Was the reason Jules had been hanging out with me so much lately because of the thing with Emma? Had I just been lucky enough to catch her at a time when she had extra time available, time to fill that she'd normally have spent with her usual friends? If so, if she had made up with Emma...what would happen to the time she had been spending with me?

I forced myself to stop that thought where it was. The day I started resenting Jules having other friends was the day I deserved to have her shut the door of friendship in my face and be left out in the cold. The only thing Jules deserved from me was gratitude, for everything she had done already. She owed me nothing.

I leaned heavily against the counter, and my head suddenly felt as though it weighed a thousand pounds. It all spun sickening in my mind—the terror of the nightmares and the fear that I would lose Jules as the one thing that could briefly make it go away, the overwhelming knowledge that I had no hold on her, and the guilt for wanting to, for acting like a jerk. The empty day with nothing but an empty house and these thoughts for company loomed ahead of me, and I could barely breathe.

"Something wrong?"

Charlie had just appeared at the foot of the stairs behind me, and he must have taken in the slump of my shoulders, where I was still standing next to the phone.

I forced myself to stand up a little straighter and shook my head. "No, I was just calling the Black house. Bonnie says Jules is feeling better. It wasn't mono after all."

"Is she coming here, or are you going there?" Charlie asked absently, as he opened the fridge and began rummaging through it.

"Not today," I said, doing my best to make my voice light. "She's out with some other friends right now. Maybe another time."

Something must have been very wrong in my tone, because he stopped abruptly and looked around at me sharply. His hand had frozen around a package of cheese slices as he took in my expression, and a flash of alarm crossed his face.

"Lunch already?" I said, still trying to sound casual. "Didn't we just have breakfast?"

His eyes didn't move from my face. "No..." he said vaguely. "No, I was just packing something to take out to the river. The Clearwaters called, and since it's not raining..." He hesitated uncertainly, still clutching the package of cheese slices. He said suddenly, very quickly, "But I can stay here, if you'd like. You and I could do something."

Normally I might have chuckled at the idea of Charlie and I doing some kind of father-and-son thing. As near as I could tell, we didn't have a single shared interest. But I couldn't even make myself crack a smile.

"That's okay, Dad," I said, looking away. "I know the fish bite better when the weather's nice." I added, "I think I'll call one or two of the guys from school. Jeremy, maybe. I was thinking we could do something."

Charlie seemed to latch onto this. "That's a good idea. You've been spending so much time with Julie, your other friends will start to think you've forgotten them."

I nodded. I preferred Charlie to go fishing as opposed to staying here, awkwardly hovering about and watching me to see if I was slipping back into my zombie-state, and he would feel better if he thought I wasn't alone. Though in fact I had no intention of calling Jeremy to do anything—I wasn't entirely sure we were even friends anymore, he and Logan seemed to have formed some kind of pact against me. And even if we were, Jeremy's presence wasn't likely to do anything to cheer me up when I was feeling like this.

Charlie started for the door, but then paused, turning back a minute. "Hey, if you do go out somewhere, you boys will stay in town, won't you? No hiking?"

It seemed a strange, random question. "No...why?"

He shrugged. "I told you before, I'd like you to keep out of the woods for the time being. We've been having more sightings of that bear, and a hiker went missing this morning. Just up and vanished from his campsite, and there were big animal prints nearby. Just promise me to be careful—Be smart."

I nodded absently, though I was only half listening. My head was still miles away, bowed with the weight of all my thoughts.

I listened to the sound of the police cruiser pull out of the drive, and continued to listen to the distant sound of the engine as it headed off down the road until it faded, and all was still. I stood there by the counter, listening to the sudden deafening silence, and the overpowering sound of my churning thoughts, staring at the empty kitchen, and contemplating the prospect of the rest of the day here. And all at once I realized I just couldn't do it.

I abruptly strode down the hall to the coat rack and seized my jacket, trying to think of something, anything, to do that would get me through the day—just one day.

Going out with friends from school was out. The last thing I needed right now was to be forced to exert more mental energy putting up a good-humored front. I might not have minded doing something with Allen, but I figured on a Saturday he was probably out with Becca. Besides, Allen was observant, and I knew he would immediately pick up on how I was feeling. I could also go get my bike out at La Push and go for a ride—unfortunately, I still wasn't so good at the bike that I could guarantee I wouldn't cut my head open again, and if that happened, I wouldn't have anyone to drive me to the emergency room.

My thoughts seized upon my search for the little secluded meadow in the woods. I had the compass and map in my truck, and I knew the process now well enough that maybe I could get a couple of lines done on my own.

I'd told Charlie I wouldn't go out hiking in the woods, but apparently I'd lied. At the moment, I was too desperate to be out of the house to feel guilty—the need to distract myself from all the anxiety and crushing depression seemed more pressing than worry over some mega-bear.

The weather was fairly nice that day, cloudy, but dry, and not too cold. However, as I stepped into the forest—of course taking far longer than Jules to find the right place to follow the next unexplored line on the map—the trees seemed to close around me, enveloping me in the shadow of their limbs.

Even though the forest was full of life—chirping birds, buzzing insects, rustling leaves—it felt somehow darker, creepier than it had before when Jules was walking in front of me, whistling and telling stories. It was a different place—it almost felt like the scene from my nightmare.

At first my sense of unease grew stronger, and the hole in my chest pricked at me. But eventually my breathing evened out, and the rhythmic sound of my own footsteps became a comfort. Before long I was moving better, going faster, even as I had to climb over tree roots and brush aside shrubs.

I was so lost in the soft tramping of my feet along the forest floor, the sound of twigs and sticks quietly snapping beneath my sneakers, that at some point I lost track of the time, or how far I had gone. I just kept on walking, just listening to the sounds of the forest around me, thinking of nothing in particular. So, when I stepped through a low arch made by a pair of vine maples, shoving past chest-high ferns, I was stunned when I abruptly found myself there.

I would know the place anywhere—this was our place, which, once upon a time, I had often revisited in my mind. The unusual symmetry, like someone had gone through and intentionally cleared away the trees, was unmistakable.

Without the sunlight, the place wasn't nearly so stunning as it had been that day, but it was still a beautiful place, all the more beautiful for its peaceful tranquility. It was the wrong season for wildflowers, but emerald green grass swayed in the light breeze, soft as cotton.

I stared out at the magical place I had been, and I immediately knew—it had been a mistake to come here.

I staggered back against a tree as a sharp pain cut through my chest. I gripped the front of my shirt. This place I'd been searching for—it was empty. A once magical place that was now a place of nothingness, just like my nightmares.

I lifted my eyes again to the green grass, gritting my teeth against the pain—and that was when I saw it.

Something moved at the very north of the clearing. I squinted, and very suddenly a figure stepped out of the trees into view.

I stared in confusion for a moment. A hiker? But this was so far from any of the trails...Then my brain took in the odd stillness of the figure, the pallid skin, and I knew what it was that stood before me. But it wasn't her. Not the one I would have wanted to see.

For a moment all the pain was driven from my mind, replaced by a spasm of fear. Then my eyes took in the face, and I was stunned to realize I recognized it.

"Lauren?" I said, startled. Then, strangely, I felt a smile spread slowly across my face.

Lauren had been part of Joss's coven when we met. She had opted not to join in Joss's crazed hunt for me, and instead gone on to Alaska, to stay with the other civilized coven there, another group of vampires who also abstained from human blood. Although Lauren had never shied away from a natural vampire diet before, I'd figured staying with that other family she would have had to adopt their ways.

Still, I probably should have been afraid. Alone in the wilderness with a vampire who, up until recently, had had no qualms about eating humans. But I felt strangely elated. In a weird way, Lauren's presence in the meadow restored its magic, reconnected me with the memories that kept threatening to slip away, to dissolve into nothingness. Even if it was a darker magic than the one I remembered, she grounded what sometimes seemed to be nothing more than a fantasy in reality. She did exist, after all.

Lauren looked the same as I remembered. In fact, she seemed almost unnaturally the same—Perhaps it was just my humanness showing that I would have expected to see some change, however minute, in her appearance since I'd last seen her nearly a year ago. However, there was something needling me. Something I couldn't quite put my finger on.

"It's you," said Lauren with surprise as she took me in, standing there. "The human. Beau Swan, wasn't it?"

"Yeah," I said, and I felt my smile widen. She knew me, knew my name. The events that had happened back then were real, not some figment of my imagination.

"I wouldn't have expected to see you here," she said, eying me curiously. She approached slowly, with casual, easy grace, her long, silk black hair rippling in the light breeze.

I shrugged. "I live here. What about you? Last I heard, you were in Alaska."

Lauren paused, stopping barely ten paces from me. She tilted her head to one side. Like all vampires, her face was shockingly beautiful, the most beautiful face I'd seen in what felt like an eternity. Even if it paled in comparison to the beauty I had seen, I couldn't stop myself taking in her every detail. It was such a release, to meet someone who knew everything, who was in on the secret I'd carried all this time. To meet with someone again from her world, even if it wasn't a world for me.

"Yes, I did," she said. "It was nice there, in Alaska. Still, I didn't think for a minute you would still...well, when I found the Cullen place empty, I was certain they must have moved on."

I didn't answer. The sound of the name pierced my chest again, constricting my lungs and I had to take a second to gather myself again. Lauren watched me curiously.

"Yeah," I said at last. "They moved on."

She nodded slowly. "Yes...I thought so. But I must say, I am surprised they left you behind. Weren't you sort of a pet of theirs?"

The cold knife already in chest sank an inch deeper, and I had to wait a minute before my voice was under control enough to answer. "Something...something like that."

"Hmm," she said thoughtfully.

Something in her tone made me look up—and as my eyes met hers, my stomach plunged, and suddenly I knew what had been bothering me a moment ago. Lauren looked the same as the last time I'd seen her—too much the same. When I'd heard Lauren went to stay with Tanvir's family, I'd grown to picture her with the same golden eyes the other vampires I'd known had. The golden eyes that reflected their mutual life choice. But as I stared into her dark eyes now, I saw the truth.

I took a slow step back, and Lauren's eyes followed my movement. Eyes the color of blood.

"Do they visit often?" she asked, still casual, though I watched as her weight shifted ever so slightly toward me.

"Lie," the familiar voice commanded from the back of my mind.

"Now and then," I said, casually stretching out my arms, as if I were perfectly relaxed. "It probably seems longer to me, you know how they get distracted..."

"Hmm," said Lauren again. "The house smelled like it had been vacant for a while."

"You have to lie better than that, Beau," the voice pressed, with growing fear.

I did my best. "Hey, I'll let Carine know you stopped by. She'll hate that she missed you." I stopped, pretending to think. "Don't worry, I won't mention it to—to Edythe—" my voice cracked on the name "—She still gets touchy about the whole Joss thing. I told her to let that be water under the bridge, but you know how she gets when she's pissed off..."

I shrugged my shoulders, nonchalant. However, my voice was just a little too high.

"I see," said Lauren pleasantly. "Is that so." Her slightly narrowed eyes studied my face.

I tried to shrug again, but it was little more than a jerky twitch. "Yeah," I said. My voice cracked.

Lauren took a casual step to the side, and I noticed she was another pace closer to me. The voice in my head snarled.

"So," I said, swallowing as I tried to force my voice down to a normal level. "So—how has it been going in Denali? What do you think of Tanvir and the others?"

Lauren paused. "I do like Tanvir," she said. "And his brother, Ivan...It's a bit of a novelty, really, staying in one place. Far more pleasant than I expected. But even so, the restrictions. They are impossible. I don't know how a single one of them has managed it for this long." She smiled at me conspiratorially. "I admit, sometimes I cheat."

Something had lodged itself in my throat. I could barely breathe. I felt my foot start to take a step back, but I froze as Lauren's sharp eyes flickered down to catch the movement.

"Don't move," the voice whispered. I stayed still, but it was hard. Every part of me wanted to turn and run.

Lauren lazily took another a step forward.

Desperate for any way to distract her, delay her, I blurted the first question that came to mind. "Did you ever meet up with Victor again?" I grimaced as soon as the words were out. That was the last thing I should be asking right now—Victor was Joss's mate, and he had helped her track me, disappearing after she was killed.

However, Lauren did stop, thoughtful.

"Yes," she said musingly. "In fact, I came out here as a favor to him." She sighed deeply and shook her head. "Ah, Victor. He certainly won't be happy about this."

"About...what?" I was eager for anything to keep the conversation going, and yet I dreaded the answer.

Lauren raised her dark crimson eyes to me, and her face lit up with a sudden smile. The expression made her look like a raven-haired angel.

"About killing you," she said brightly.

I was frozen. I wanted to take a step back, but I couldn't move.

Lauren continued dispassionately, "You see, he wanted to kill you himself. Tear you apart piece by painful piece. Oh, I know what you're thinking. What did you ever do to Victor? It's like this—Joss was Victor's mate. Your little Edythe killed Joss. Now, in Victor's twisted mind, the only way to pay her back is to kill her mate—Ie, you."

Even standing on the point of death, the sound of the name was like a firebrand in my chest, searing, painful.

Lauren continued, oblivious to my reaction, "Victor wanted me to get the lay of the land around here before he made his move. Honestly, I don't think he would have expected to find you so easy to get to. I'm afraid dear Victor's grand plot for revenge isn't quite what he imagined it would be. If she really considered you hermate, I very much doubt she would have just left you here like this. Exposed, without the least defense."

Lauren's weight shifted slightly again, toward me. However, again she sighed. "I suppose he will be angry, all the same. He so hates to be thwarted, Victor. I suppose that's why he and Joss made such a good team—they were both a bit mad, if you ask me."

"So wait," I said, desperation and fear warring with the sharp pain Lauren's words had sent shooting through my hollow chest. "Why don't you just wait for him?"

"I could," she said, cocking her head to one side. Then her lips curled into a smile. "But I'm afraid I don't have the will at the moment. I was just out hunting, you see—I haven't had a good meal in some time, since I've been out doing Victor's dirty work. And I must admit that you smell...simply scrumptious."

She looked at me with approval, as though paying me a compliment.

"Threaten her," the beautiful voice ordered, distorted with dread.

"You won't get away with this," I said. "She'll know it was you."

"Will she?" said Lauren, her dark red eyes glittering. "The scent will wash away with the next rain. No one will find your body—you'll simply go missing, like so many, many other humans. Why should Edythe think of me? If she even cares enough to look into it. I promise, it's nothing personal. I just need something to slake my thirst."

"She'll know," I insisted. "She'll see your mind the next time you see her. And even if—even if she doesn't care—you know she'll take it personally. She'll see it as a challenge."

Lauren smiled, taking another step forward. "I'll just have to make certain I don't run into her, then. And you'd be surprised how easy it is to control one's thoughts with practice."

"Beg," my hallucination whispered.

I bent my head in a submissive posture. "Please," I said. "You don't want to do this."

Lauren shook her head, and her beautiful face was oddly gentle. "If you look at it a certain way, Beau, I'm really doing you a favor. I'll be quick, I promise. You won't feel a thing. I'll have to lie to Victor about that later, of course—If you had any idea what he plans to do to you if he gets a hold of you...Well, let's just say, in retrospect, I think he thinks that Joss was a little too gentle with you. Be happy you fell into my hands instead."

My heart was hammering in my chest, and a trickle of sweat slid down my temple.

Lauren leaned forward, closing her eyes and inhaling deeply, breathing in my scent. "Exquisite," she murmured. "Mouthwatering."

I knew what was about to come. I was about to die.

And, knowing that it was over, knowing that it was all about to end, I let it through—the name I hadn't let myself think or speak, for the pain it brought. Edythe, I thought. Edythe. Edythe. Edythe.

"You won't feel a thing," Lauren murmured again.

I looked into her eyes, and saw the hunger there, the greedy longing for my blood. I heard the scream in my head that I had heard in the ballet studio, as Joss sprung toward me for the final kill—the tortured, agonized sound of a chainsaw through steel. Somehow, the wild sound calmed me. I braced myself.

Her lips curled back from her teeth, eyes glinting with anticipation. But suddenly, just as she was breathing in the aroma one last time, she froze.

She turned her head sharply toward the left side of the clearing, and her face went blank with shock.

"I don't believe it," she whispered. "It can't be."

I was afraid to look away from Lauren even for a second, but irresistibly I turned my head, to see what she was looking at. At first I saw nothing, but as I focused, squinting my eyes, I realized I saw movement in the trees—and I watched as a giant black form detached itself from the woods, its giant paws making absolutely no sound on the meadow grass. Head low, the creature stalked toward the vampire.

I didn't know if I'd ever seen any animal so huge. It was big as a horse, on all fours taller than I was, with a powerful body and muscular legs. I watched numbly as the creature drew back its long snout to reveal twin rows of sharp, dagger-like teeth, and a wild snarl echoed across the meadow, sending chills up and down my spine.

Apparently the bear everyone had been seeing was real—only now that I saw it up close, I could see it wasn't a bear at all. But I could certainly see why people had made that mistake. Wolves shouldn't get that big.

The beast was less than ten feet from me and still advancing. I knew that between this beast and the vampire, the vampire was obviously the more dangerous, but something about the creature's towering size awakened in me some instinctual fear, beyond reason. And, morbid as it was, I couldn't help but remember Lauren had promised me a quick, painless death—I doubted this monster would be so accommodating.

"Keep still, Beau," Edythe's voice whispered. "Keep very still."

Lauren had begun to back away, toward the edge of the trees, and her eyes were wide with horror to match mine. Why? What did a vampire have to be afraid of from an animal?

I continued to watch the wolf, my stomach twisting inside me, and I could only stare, stunned, as two more mutant wolves emerged from the wood to join the first. One was a deep charcoal gray, the other brown. The gray one was feet from me, and I had stopped breathing.

Before I could even begin to think what to do, two more wolves followed, appearing on either side of the line, the black wolf still at the head. One was a deep rust brown, and it emerged from the wood right beside me, so close I could have reached out and touched it.

In spite of Edythe's warning, a gasp of shock escaped me and I staggered back. Stupid—the wolves had their eyes on Lauren now, but I was obviously the weaker, more delectable prey. An easy target. I wondered briefly if Lauren was just going to stand there and let her prey get torn to shreds. Maybe she thought it would be entertaining. Joss would have certainly thought so.

As I feared, my movement drew the attention of one of the wolves, the rust-colored one. It turned its massive head toward me. Its eyes were dark, nearly black, and I couldn't help but think there seemed to be some intelligence there, more than in a normal wild animal.

As it stared at me with its dark eyes, I suddenly found myself thinking of Jules. I was so glad I'd been on my own when I stumbled into this nightmare. Even if I was about to die here, at least she was safe. I'd thought my luck was bad when I'd found out she had gone out, when we wouldn't be together. But maybe fate had intervened on her behalf—maybe fate had decided that, even if I wasn't worthy to live, Jules was.

The black wolf let out another low growl, and the red wolf's head whipped back around, back to Lauren.

Lauren gaped at the pack with stunned shock, her eyes wide with fear. Then, without warning, she spun and bolted into the trees.

I almost couldn't believe it. Vampires were the ultimate predators. They didn't have anything to fear, except maybe each other. But she took off like the devil was on her heels.

The wolves were after her in an instant, snarling and snapping. As they disappeared from view, the wild sounds faded, until there was silence.

I was alone again.

I fell back against a tree, my hand clutching the front of my shirt. I knew I had to get out of here, before either the wolves or Lauren came back, but I was shaking all over, and I felt weak. I was probably as pale as death.

What I'd just seen didn't make any sense at all. Vampires were like stone. A pack of wolves, even a large pack of mutant monsters like those, couldn't hope to eat one, or even fight one. And why had the wolves simply bypassed me, the obviously easier prey?

A cold breeze whipped through the meadow, rustling the grass, and the noise finally galvanized me. I pushed myself back from the tree, scrambling back a few steps into the woods. Then I turned and ran.

I emerged from the trees hours later, in the wrong place—I'd been so desperate to run I hadn't followed the path I'd taken in very carefully, and almost gotten myself lost. I had to jog a mile up the road to find where I'd parked my truck. I dove inside and immediately locked all the doors. Even though it wouldn't do any good, it calmed me a little, as did the familiar blazing roar of the old engine.

By the time I finally got home, it was dark out, and Charlie's cruiser was already in the driveway. I hadn't realized how long I'd been in the forest.

"Beau?" I heard Charlie call as I came in the door. I bolted it behind me.

"Yeah," I said unsteadily. "Yeah, it's me."

He appeared in the kitchen doorway, and I could tell from his expression that I was in trouble.

"Where have you been?" he demanded.

I had a feeling he had probably called the houses of about all my friends at school, and I knew there was no lying my way out of what I'd been doing.

"Hiking," I admitted.

Charlie looked furious. "Beau, I told you specifically to say out of the forest. I told you it's dangerous. I've never known you to act like this."

"Yeah, I know, it was dumb," I said quickly. "I won't go back again, I swear."

Charlie seemed to really see me for the first time. I was covered in forest debris, scratched up from head to toe from my mad scramble back through the woods. My eyes were wide and freaked out.

"What?" Charlie said. "What happened?"

I was still too shaken to come up with any good lies, and I found myself saying, "I saw—I saw the bear. But it was actually a wolf, a giant wolf. And there wasn't just one, I saw five."

Charlie's anger turned to shock. He came forward, grabbing my shoulders and looking me in the eye.

"Are you okay?" he said. "Are you hurt?"

I shook my head. "I'm...okay."

He pulled me toward the couch, and got me to sit down. "Okay, tell me exactly what happened."

I still felt weak, and it took me a minute to collect my thoughts. "They didn't pay any attention to me. I waited until they were gone, and then I just...ran."

Charlie didn't ask about my scratches and bruises, he probably figured how I'd got those. As I often noted, I didn't get my grace from my mother.

Charlie was silent for a moment, then put an arm around me and pulled me into a one-armed hug.

"Wolves," he said shaking his head. "The rangers did say the tracks we've been finding are wrong for a bear—but they were so big. Too big for wolves."

"They were mutants," I said. "I swear, they were monsters. Bigger than bears."

"And you said you saw five?"

I nodded.

Charlie looked me in the eye. "Promise me, Beau. You won't go out there again."

"No problem," I said with feeling.

Charlie called the station to report what I'd seen, and when he hung up he turned back to me.

Before he could ask me anything else, I said, "I think I'm just going to head up to bed. I'm not feeling all that hungry..."

Charlie nodded. However, before he turned back for the kitchen, he suddenly frowned. "Hey, by the way, Beau...Didn't you say Bonnie said Jules went up to Port Angeles today?"

I nodded slowly, wondering where that had come from. In the course of the latest crisis, I'd almost forgotten my worries from that morning. "That's what she told me."

"Huh," he said, frowning again. "That's funny. When I went to pick up Holly and Saul, I thought I saw her hanging around down in front of the store with some friends. I waved to her, but I think she must not have seen me."

"Oh," I said, and this interested me. When I'd talked to Bonnie, she'd made it sound like Jules had already left. "Maybe they were just waiting for someone to meet them before they started out."

Charlie nodded absently. "I was a bit surprised," he said. "I've always thought Bonnie had a pretty easy going kid, but Julie seemed a bit agitated. I thought it looked like they were having some kind of argument. She looked a bit different...I think she might have cut her hair."

"Oh," I said again, not really listening as my mind worked. It suddenly occurred to me that maybe it had been premature to think Jules might have made up with Emma. Rather, maybe she had ditched out today because she'd finally made up her mind to confront Sam precisely about the situation with Em. I suddenly felt doubly guilty, for even for a moment being troubled by the thought of her making up with Emma. I really hoped she was able to sort things out—she would be so relieved when she had.

Before heading upstairs, I double-checked the locks again. It was dumb, meaningless—if Lauren came here to finish me off, locks wouldn't stop her. And they certainly wouldn't stop...

My mind flashed back to a sinuous, feline figure with blazing red hair, and I felt my stomach turn to ice.

Victor.

As I lay back on my bed, I found myself shivering violently, my stomach queasy from something other than my nightmares for once.

I was hit with the realization that just because I had escaped the clearing didn't mean that I was safe. Victor was after me, and maybe Lauren, too, if she was afraid I might tell Edythe what she had been about to do. And there was absolutely nothing I could do about it—no place to hide, no precautions I could take. There was not a soul who had the power to help me.

But what made it worse was that it wasn't just me in danger, but Charlie. My dad, sleeping in just the next room over, was in almost in as much danger as I was, simply because of his proximity to me. My scent would lead them straight here, and anything too close would become collateral damage.

To calm myself, I worked to form a picture in my mind, pretend that maybe, just maybe, the wolves had caught up to Lauren and torn her to bits, just as they would a normal person. If only Lauren were gone, then she couldn't report back to Victor that I was alone, without protection. If only...

I closed my eyes, almost eager to throw myself into my usual nightmare. Better nothingness than the cold, nasty grin of the face that was burning in my mind now. I could see his face, eyes black with thirst, his wild red hair standing up in spikes. I could see his grin grow wider, with the anticipation of what he would put me through.

A violent tremor of fear wracked my frame as I turned my face into my pillow.