“It’s twilight,” Edward murmured, looking at the western horizon, obscured as it was with clouds. His voice was thoughtful, as if his mind were somewhere far away. I stared at him as he gazed unseeingly out the windshield.
I was still staring when his eyes suddenly shifted back to mine.
“It’s the safest time of day for us,” he said, answering the unspoken question in my eyes. “The easiest time. But also the saddest, in a way . . . the end of another day, the return of the night. Darkness is so predictable, don’t you think?” He smiled wistfully.
“I like the night. Without the dark, we’d never see the stars.” I frowned. “Not that you see them here much.”
He laughed, and the mood abruptly lightened.
“Charlie will be here in a few minutes. So, unless you want to tell him that you’ll be with me Saturday . . .” He raised one eyebrow.
“Thanks, but no thanks.” I gathered my books, realizing I was stiff from sitting still so long. “So is it my turn tomorrow, then?”
“Certainly not!” His face was teasingly outraged. “I told you I wasn’t done, didn’t I?”
“What more is there?”
“You’ll find out tomorrow.” He reached across to open my door for me, and his sudden proximity sent my heart into frenzied palpitations.
But his hand froze on the handle.
“Not good,” he muttered.
“What is it?” I was surprised to see that his jaw was clenched, his eyes disturbed.
He glanced at me for a brief second. “Another complication,” he said glumly.
He flung the door open in one swift movement, and then moved, almost cringed, swiftly away from me.
The flash of headlights through the rain caught my attention as a dark car pulled up to the curb just a few feet away, facing us.
“Charlie’s around the corner,” he warned, staring through the downpour at the other vehicle.
I hopped out at once, despite my confusion and curiosity. The rain was louder as it glanced off my jacket.
I tried to make out the shapes in the front seat of the other car, but it was too dark. I could see Edward illuminated in the glare of the new car’s headlights; he was still staring ahead, his gaze locked on something or someone I couldn’t see. His expression was a strange mix of frustration and defiance.
Then he revved the engine, and the tires squealed against the wet pavement. The Volvo was out of sight in seconds.
“Hey, Bella,” called a familiar, husky voice from the driver’s side of the little black car.
“Jacob?” I asked, squinting through the rain. Just then, Charlie’s cruiser swung around the corner, his lights shining on the occupants of the car in front of me.
Jacob was already climbing out, his wide grin visible even through the darkness. In the passenger seat was a much older man, a heavyset man with a memorable face — a face that overflowed, the cheeks resting against his shoulders, with creases running through the russet skin like an old leather jacket. And the surprisingly familiar eyes, black eyes that seemed at the same time both too young and too ancient for the broad face they were set in. Jacob’s father, Billy Black. I knew him immediately, though in the more than five years since I’d seen him last I’d managed to forget his name when Charlie had spoken of him my first day here. He was staring at me, scrutinizing my face, so I smiled tentatively at him. His eyes were wide, as if in shock or fear, his nostrils flared. My smile faded.
Another complication, Edward had said.
Billy still stared at me with intense, anxious eyes. I groaned internally. Had Billy recognized Edward so easily? Could he really believe the impossible legends his son had scoffed at?
The answer was clear in Billy’s eyes. Yes. Yes, he could.
12. BALANCING
“BILLY!” CHARLIE CALLED AS SOON AS HE GOT OUT OF the car.
I turned toward the house, beckoning to Jacob as I ducked under the porch. I heard Charlie greeting them loudly behind me.
“I’m going to pretend I didn’t see you behind the wheel, Jake,” he said disapprovingly.
“We get permits early on the rez,” Jacob said while I unlocked the door and flicked on the porch light.
“Sure you do,” Charlie laughed.
“I have to get around somehow.” I recognized Billy’s resonant voice easily, despite the years. The sound of it made me feel suddenly younger, a child.
I went inside, leaving the door open behind me and turning on lights before I hung up my jacket. Then I stood in the door, watching anxiously as Charlie and Jacob helped Billy out of the car and into his wheelchair.
I backed out of the way as the three of them hurried in, shaking off the rain.