"Is it really bad, Jake?" I asked anxiously, wishing I had some way to help him. "Are you miserable?"
"No, I'm not miserable," he told me. "Not anymore. Not now that you know. That was hard, before." He leaned over so that his cheek was resting on top of my head.
He was quiet for a moment, and I wondered what he was thinking about. Maybe I didn't want to know. "What's the hardest part?" I whispered, still wishing I could help.
"The hardest part is feeling… out of control," he said slowly. "Feeling like I can't be sure of myself–like maybe you shouldn't be around me, like maybe nobody should. Like I'm a monster who might hurt somebody. You've seen Emily. Sam lost control of his temper for just one second… and she was standing too close. And now there's nothing he can ever do to put it right again. I hear his thoughts–I know what that feels like…
"Who wants to be a nightmare, a monster?
"And then, the way it comes so easily to me, the way I'm better at it than the rest of them–does that make me even less human than Enbry or Sam? Sometimes I'm afraid that I'm losing myself."
"Is it hard? To find yourself again?" "At first," he said. "It takes some practice to phase back and forth. But it's easier tor me." "Why?" I wondered.
"Because Ephraim Black was my father's grandfather, and Quil Ateara was my mother's grandfather."
"Quil?" I asked in confusion.
"His great-grandfather," Jacob clarified. "The Quil you know is my second cousin." "But why does it matter who your great-grandfathers are?"
"Because Ephraim and Quil were in the last pack. Levi Uley was the third. It's in my blood on both sides. I never had a chance. Like Quil doesn't have a chance."
His expression was bleak.
"What's the very best part?" I asked, hoping to cheer him up.
"The best part," he said, suddenly smiling again, "is the speed."
"Better than the motorcycles?"
He nodded, enthusiastic. "There's no comparison."
"How fast can you… ?"
"Run?" he finished my question. "Fast enough. What can I measure it by? We caught… what was his name? Laurent? I imagine that means more to you than it would to someone else." It did mean something to me. I couldn't imagine that–the wolves running faster than a vampire. When the Cullens ran, they all but turned invisible with speed.
"So, tell me something I don't know," he said. "Something about vampires. How did you stand it, being around them? Didn't it creep you out?"
"No," I said curtly. My tone made him thoughtful for a moment. "Say, why'd your bloodsucker kill that James, anyway?" he asked suddenly.
"James was trying to kill me–it was like a game for him. He lost. Do you remember last spring when I was in the hospital down in Phoenix?"
Jacob sucked in a breath. "He got that close?"
"He got very, very close." I stroked my scar. Jacob noticed, because he held the hand I moved.
"What's that?" He traded hands, examining my right. "This is your funny scar, the cold one." He looked at it closer, with new eyes, and gasped.
"Yes, it's what you think it is," I said. "James bit me."
His eyes bulged, and his face turned a strange, sallow color under the russet surface. He looked like he was about to be sick.
"But if he bit you… ? Shouldn't you be… ?" He choked.
"Edward saved me twice," I whispered. "He sucked the venom out–you know, like with a rattlesnake." I twitched as the pain lashed around the edges of the hole.
But I wasn't the only one twitching. I could feel Jacob's whole body trembling next to mine. Even the car shook.
"Careful, Jake. Easy. Ca in down."
"Yeah," he panted. "Calm." He shook his head back and forth quickly. After a moment, only his hands were shaking.
"You okay?"
"Yeah, almost. Tell me something else. Give me something else to think about." "What do you want to know?"
"I don't know." He had his eyes closed, concentrating. "The extra stuff I guess. Did any of the other Cullens have… extra talents? Like the mind reading?"
I hesitated a second. This felt like a question he would ask of his spy, not his friend. But what was the point of hiding what I knew? It didn't matter now, and it would help him control himself.
So I spoke quickly, the image of Emily's ruined face in my mind, and the hair rising on my arms. I couldn't imagine how the russet wolf would fit inside the Rabbit–Jacob would tear the whole garage apart if he changed now.