The Twilight Saga Collection part 2(73)

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.”

“So?”

“So the prime candidates for his father are Quil Ateara Sr., Joshua Uley, or Billy Black, all of them married at that point, of course.”

“No!” I gasped. Edward was right — this was exactly like a soap opera.

“Now Sam, Jacob, and Quil all wonder which of them has a half-brother. They’d all like to think it’s Sam, since his father was never much of a father. But the doubt is always there. Jacob’s never been able to ask Billy about that.”

“Wow. How did you get so much in one night?”

“The pack mind is mesmerizing. All thinking together and then separately at the same time. There’s so much to read!”

He sounded faintly regretful, like someone who’d had to put down a good book just before the climax. I laughed.

“The pack is fascinating,” I agreed. “Almost as fascinating as you are when you’re trying to distract me.”

His expression became polite again — a perfect poker face.

“I have to be in that clearing, Edward.”

“No,” he said in a very final tone.

A certain path occurred to me at that moment.

It wasn’t so much that I had to be in the clearing. I just had to be where Edward was.

Cruel, I accused myself. Selfish, selfish, selfish! Don’t do it!

I ignored my better instincts. I couldn’t look at him while I spoke, though. The guilt had my eyes glued to the table.

“Okay, look, Edward,” I whispered. “Here’s the thing . . . I’ve already gone crazy once. I know what my limits are. And I can’t stand it if you leave me again.”

I didn’t look up to see his reaction, afraid to know how much pain I was inflicting. I did hear his sudden intake of breath and the silence that followed. I stared at the dark wooden tabletop, wishing I could take the words back. But knowing I probably wouldn’t. Not if it worked.