Anger flickered across his face, and then he took a deep breath and composed himself. "That might have worked . . . if you hadn't told me. Now I'll just ask Sam to give Seth certain orders. Much as he might want to, Seth won't be able to ignore that kind of injunction."
I kept my smile pleasant. "But why would Sam give those orders? If I tell him how it would help for me to be there? I'll bet Sam would rather do me a favor than you."
He had to compose himself again. "Maybe you're right. But I'm sure Jacob would be only too eager to give those same orders."
I frowned. "Jacob?"
"Jacob is second in command. Did he never tell you that? His orders have to be followed, too."
He had me, and by his smile, he knew it. My forehead crumpled. Jacob would be on his side-in this one instance-I was sure. And Jacob never had told me that.
Edward took advantage of the fact that I was momentarily stumped, continuing in a suspiciously smooth and soothing voice.
"I got a fascinating look into the pack's minds last night. It was better than a soap opera. I had no idea how complex the dynamic is with such a large pack. The pull of the individual against the plural psyche . . . Absolutely fascinating."
He was obviously trying to distract me. I glared at him.
"Jacob's been keeping a lot of secrets," he said with a grin.
I didn't answer, I just kept glaring, holding on to my argument and waiting for an opening.
"For instance, did you note the smaller gray wolf there last night?"
I nodded one stiff nod.
He chuckled. "They take all of their legends so seriously. It turns out there are things that none of their stories prepared them for."
I sighed. "Okay, I'll bite. What are you talking about?"
"They always accepted without question that it was only the direct grandsons of the original wolf who had the power to transform."
"So someone changed who wasn't a direct descendant?"
"No. She's a direct descendant, all right."
I blinked, and my eyes widened. "She?"
He nodded. "She knows you. Her name is Leah Clearwater."
"Leah's a werewolf!" I shrieked. "What? For how long? Why didn't Jacob tell me?"
"There are things he wasn't allowed to share-their numbers, for instance. Like I said before, when Sam gives an order, the pack simply isn't able to ignore it. Jacob was very careful to think of other things when he was near me. Of course, after last night that's all out the window."
"I can't believe it. Leah Clearwater!" Suddenly, I remembered Jacob speaking of Leah and Sam, and the way he acted as if he'd said too much-after he'd said something about Sam having to look in Leah's eyes every day and know that he'd broken all his promises . . . Leah on the cliff, a tear glistening on her cheek when Old Quil had spoken of the burden and sacrifice the Quileute sons shared . . . And Billy, spending time with Sue because she was having trouble with her kids . . . and here the trouble actually was that both of them were werewolves now!
I hadn't given much thought to Leah Clearwater, just to grieve for her loss when Harry had passed away, and then to pity her again when Jacob had told her story, about how the strange imprinting between Sam and her cousin Emily had broken Leah's heart.
And now she was part of Sam's pack, hearing his thoughts . . . and unable to hide her own.
I really hate that part, Jacob had said. Everything you're ashamed of, laid out for everyone to see.
"Poor Leah," I whispered.
Edward snorted. "She's making life exceedingly unpleasant for the rest of them. I'm not sure she deserves your sympathy."
"What do you mean?"
"It's hard enough for them, having to share all their thoughts. Most of them try to cooperate, make it easier. When even one member is deliberately malicious, it's painful for everyone."
"She has reason enough," I mumbled, still on her side.
"Oh, I know," he said. "The imprinting compulsion is one of the strangest things I've ever witnessed in my life, and I've seen some strange things." He shook his head wonderingly. "The way Sam is tied to his Emily is impossible to describe-or I should say her Sam. Sam really had no choice. It reminds me of A Midsummer Night's Dream with all the chaos caused by the fairies' love spells . . . like magic." He smiled. "It's very nearly as strong as the way I feel about you."
"Poor Leah," I said again. "But what do you mean, malicious?"
"She's constantly bringing up things they'd rather not think of," he explained. "For example, Embry."
"What's with Embry?" I asked, surprised.
"His mother moved down from the Makah reservation seventeen years ago, when she was pregnant with him. She's not Quileute. Everyone assumed she'd left his father behind with the Makahs. But then he joined the pack."