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New Moon (The Twilight Saga)(81)

Author:Stephenie Meyer

"Sam was incredibly cool." I glared at him in disbelief, but let it go.

"Then why aren't you supposed to see me?" I demanded.

"It's not safe," he mumbled looking down.

His words sent a thrill of fear through me.

Did he know that, too? Nobody knew that besides me. But he was right–it was the middle of the night, the perfect time for hunting. Jacob shouldn't be here in my room. If someone came for me, I had :o be alone.

"If I thought it was too… too risky," he whispered, "I wouldn't have come. But Bella," he looked at me again, "I made you a promise. I had no idea it would be so hard to keep, but that doesn't mean I'm not going to try."

He saw the incomprehension in my face. "After that stupid movie," he reminded me. "I promised you that I wouldn't ever hurt you… So I really blew it this afternoon, didn't I?"

"I know you didn't want to do it, Jake. It's okay."

"Thanks, Bella." He took my hand. "I'm going to do what I can to be here for you, just like I promised." He grinned at me suddenly. The grin was not mine, nor Sam's, but some strange combination of the two. "It would really help if you could figure this out on your own, Bella. Put some honest effort into it."

I made a weak grimace. "I'll try." "And I'll try to see you soon." He sighed. "And they'll try to talk me out of that." "Don't listen to them."

"I'll try." He shook his head, as if he doubted his success. "Come and tell me as soon as you figure it out." Something occurred to him just then, something that made his hands shake. "If you… if you want to."

"Why wouldn't I want to see you?"

His face turned hard and bitter, one hundred percent the face that belonged to Sam. "Oh, I can think of a reason," he said in a harsh tone. "Look, I really have to go. Could you do something for me?"

I just nodded, frightened of the change in him. "At least call me–if you don't want to see me again. Let me know if it's like that." "That won't happen–" He raised one hand, cutting me off. "Just let me know." He stood and headed for the window.

"Don't be an idiot, Jake," I complained. "You'll break your leg. Use the door. Charlie's not going to catch you."

"I won't get hurt," he muttered, but he turned for the door. He hesitated as he passed me, staring at me with an expression like something was stabbing him. He held one hand out, pleading.

I took his hand, and suddenly he yanked me–too roughly–right off the bed so that I thudded against his chest.

"Just in case," he muttered against my hair, crushing me in a bear hug that about broke my ribs.

"Can't–breathe!" I gasped.

He dropped me at once, keeping one hand at my waist so I didn't fall over. He pushed me, more gently this time, back down on the bed.

"Get some sleep, Bells. You've got to get your head working. I know you can do this. I need you. to understand. I won't lose you, Bella. Not for this."

He was to the door in one stride, opening it quietly, and then disappearing through it. I listened for him to hit the squeaky step in the stairs, but there was no sound.

I lay back on my bed, my head spinning. I was too confused, too worn out. I closed my eyes, trying to make sense of it, only to be swallowed up by unconsciousness so swiftly that it was disorienting.

It was not the peaceful, creamless sleep I'd yearned for–of course not. I was in the forest again, and I started to wander the way I always did.

I quickly became aware that this was not the same dream as usual. For one thing, I felt no compulsion to wander or to search; I was merely wandering out of habit, because that was what was usually expected of me here. Actually, this wasn't even the same forest. The smell was different, and the light, too. It smelled, not like the damp earth of the woods, but like the brine of the ocean. I couldn't see the sky; still, it seemed like the sun must be shining–the leaves above were bright jade green.

This was the forest around La Push–near the beach there, I was sure of it. I knew that if I found the beach, I would be able to see the sun, so I hurried forward, following the faint sound of waves in the distance.

And then Jacob was there. He grabbed my hand, pulling me back toward the blackest part of the forest.

"Jacob, what's wrong?" I asked. His face was the frightened face of a boy, and his hair was beautiful again, swept back into a ponytail on the nape of his neck. He yanked with all his strength, but I resisted; I didn't want to go into the dark.

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