Eclipse (Twilight #3)(130)

"Near the end, though, you started mumbling some nonsense about 'Jacob, my Jacob.'" I could hear the pain, even in the whisper. "Your Jacob enjoyed that quite a lot."

I stretched my neck up, straining to reach my lips to the edge of his jaw. I couldn't see into his eyes. He was staring up at the ceiling of the tent.

"Sorry," I murmured. "That's just the way I differentiate."

"Differentiate?"

"Between Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. Between the Jacob I like and the one who annoys the hell out of me," I explained.

"That makes sense." He sounded slightly mollified. "Tell me another favorite night."

"Flying home from Italy."

He frowned.

"Is that not one of yours?" I wondered.

"No, it is one of mine, actually, but I'm surprised it's on your list. Weren't you under the ludicrous impression I was just acting from a guilty conscience, and I was going to bolt as soon as the plane doors opened?"

"Yes." I smiled. "But, still, you were there."

He kissed my hair. "You love me more than I deserve."

I laughed at the impossibility of that idea. "Next would be the night after Italy," I continued.

"Yes, that's on the list. You were so funny."

"Funny?" I objected.

"I had no idea your dreams were so vivid. It took me forever to convince you that you were awake."

"I'm still not sure," I muttered. "You've always seemed more like a dream than reality. Tell me one of yours, now. Did I guess your first place?"

"No - that would be two nights ago, when you finally agreed to marry me."

I made a face.

"That doesn't make your list?"

I thought about the way he'd kissed me, the concession I'd gained, and changed my mind. "Yes . . . it does. But with reservations. I don't understand why it's so important to you. You already had me forever."

"A hundred years from now, when you've gained enough perspective to really appreciate the answer, I will explain it to you."

"I'll remind you to explain - in a hundred years."

"Are you warm enough?" he asked suddenly.

"I'm fine," I assured him. "Why?"

Before he could answer, the silence outside the tent was ripped apart by an earsplitting howl of pain. The sound ricocheted off the bare rock face of the mountain and filled the air so that it seared from every direction.

The howl tore through my mind like a tornado, both strange and familiar. Strange because I'd never heard such a tortured cry before. Familiar because I knew the voice at once - I recognized the sound and understood the meaning as perfectly as if I'd uttered it myself. It made no difference that Jacob was not human when he cried out. I needed no translation.

Jacob was close. Jacob had heard every word we'd said. Jacob was in agony.

The howl choked off into a peculiar gurgled sob, and then it was quiet again.

I did not hear his silent escape, but I could feel it - I could feel the absence I had wrongly assumed before, the empty space he left behind.

"Because your space heater has reached his limit," Edward answered quietly. "Truce over," he added, so low I couldn't be sure that was really what he'd said.

"Jacob was listening," I whispered. It wasn't a question.

"Yes."

"You knew."

"Yes."

I stared at nothing, seeing nothing.

"I never promised to fight fair," he reminded me quietly. "And he deserves to know."

My head fell into my hands.

"Are you angry with me?" he asked.

"Not you," I whispered. "I'm horrified at me."

"Don't torment yourself," he pleaded.

"Yes," I agreed bitterly. "I should save my energy to torment Jacob some more. I wouldn't want to leave any part of him unharmed."

"He knew what he was doing."

"Do you think that matters?" I was blinking back tears, and this was easy to hear in my voice. "Do you think I care whether it's fair or whether he was adequately warned? I'm hurting him. Every time I turn around, I'm hurting him again." My voice was getting louder, more hysterical. "I'm a hideous person."

He wrapped his arms tightly around me. "No, you're not."

"I am! What's wrong with me?" I struggled against his arms, and he let them drop. "I have to go find him."

"Bella, he's already miles away, and it's cold."

"I don't care. I can't just sit here." I shrugged off Jacob's parka, shoved my feet into my boots, and crawled stiffly to the door; my legs felt numb. "I have to - I have to . . ." I didn't know how to finishthe sentence, didn't know what there was to do, but I unzipped the door anyway, and climbed out into the bright, icy morning.

There was less snow than I would have thought after the fury of last night's storm. Probably it had blown away rather than melted in the sun that now shone low in the southeast, glancing off the snow that lingered and stabbing at my unadjusted eyes. The air still had a bite to it, but it was dead calm and slowly becoming more seasonable as the sun rose higher.