He looked over his shoulder, back into the house, and I saw a shudder run through his whole frame. He waved me away without looking in my direction again and then moved out of my view.
What’s going on?
Like I was going to get an answer.
I sat very still in the meadow and listened. With these ears, I could almost hear Seth’s soft footfalls, miles out into the forest. It was easy to hear every sound inside the dark house.
“It was a false alarm,” Edward was explaining in that dead voice, just repeating what I’d told him. “Seth was upset about something else, and he forgot we were listening for a signal. He’s very young.”
“Nice to have toddlers guarding the fort,” a deeper voice grumbled. Emmett, I thought.
“They’ve done us a great service tonight, Emmett,” Carlisle said. “At great personal sacrifice.”
“Yeah, I know. I’m just jealous. Wish I was out there.”
“Seth doesn’t think Sam will attack now,” Edward said mechanically. “Not with us forewarned, and lacking two members of the pack.”
“What does Jacob think?” Carlisle asked.
“He’s not as optimistic.”
No one spoke. There was a quiet dripping sound that I couldn’t place. I heard their low breathing—and I could separate Bella’s from the rest. It was harsher, labored. It hitched and broke in strange rhythms. I could hear her heart. It seemed… too fast. I paced it against my own heartbeat, but I wasn’t sure if that was any measure. It wasn’t like I was normal.
“Don’t touch her! You’ll wake her up,” Rosalie whispered.
Someone sighed.
“Rosalie,” Carlisle murmured.
“Don’t start with me, Carlisle. We let you have your way earlier, but that’s all we’re allowing.”
It seemed like Rosalie and Bella were both talking in plurals now. Like they’d formed a pack of their own.
I paced quietly in front of the house. Each pass brought me a little closer. The dark windows were like a TV set running in some dull waiting room—it was impossible to keep my eyes off them for long.
A few more minutes, a few more passes, and my fur was brushing the side of the porch as I paced.
I could see up through the windows—see the top of the walls and the ceiling, the unlit chandelier that hung there. I was tall enough that all I would have to do was stretch my neck a little… and maybe one paw up on the edge of the porch.…
I peeked into the big, open front room, expecting to see something very similar to the scene this afternoon. But it had changed so much that I was confused at first. For a second I thought I’d gotten the wrong room.
The glass wall was gone—it looked like metal now. And the furniture was all dragged out of the way, with Bella curled up awkwardly on a narrow bed in the center of the open space. Not a normal bed—one with rails like in a hospital. Also like a hospital were the monitors strapped to her body, the tubes stuck into her skin. The lights on the monitors flashed, but there was no sound. The dripping noise was from the IV plugged into her arm—some fluid that was thick and white, not clear.
She choked a little in her uneasy sleep, and both Edward and Rosalie moved in to hover over her. Her body jerked, and she whimpered. Rosalie smoothed her hand across Bella’s forehead. Edward’s body stiffened—his back was to me, but his expression must have been something to see, because Emmett wrenched himself between them before there was time to blink. He held his hands up to Edward.
“Not tonight, Edward. We’ve got other things to worry about.”
Edward turned away from them, and he was the burning man again. His eyes met mine for one moment, and then I dropped back to all fours.
I ran back into the dark forest, running to join Seth, running away from what was behind me.
Worse. Yes, she was worse.
12. SOME PEOPLE JUST DON’T GRASP THE CONCEPT OF “UNWELCOME”
I was right on the edge of sleep.
The sun had risen behind the clouds an hour ago—the forest was gray now instead of black. Seth’d curled up and passed out around one, and I’d woken him at dawn to trade off. Even after running all night, I was having a hard time making my brain shut up long enough to fall asleep, but Seth’s rhythmic run was helping. One, two-three, four, one, two-three, four—dum dum-dum dum—dull paw thuds against the damp earth, over and over as he made the wide circuit surrounding the Cullens’ land. We were already wearing a trail into the ground. Seth’s thoughts were empty, just a blur of green and gray as the woods flew past him. It was restful. It helped to fill my head with what he saw rather than letting my own images take center stage.