I shuddered again. "What can we do?"
"We need to know more before we can decide that. Perhaps if we can talk to these young ones, explain the rules, it can be resolved peacefully." He frowned, like he didn't think the chances of that were good. "We'll wait until Alice has an idea of what's going on. . . . We don't want to step in until it's absolutely necessary. After all, it's not our responsibility. But it's good we have Jasper," he added, almost to himself. "If we are dealing with newborns, he'll be helpful."
"Jasper? Why?"
Edward smiled darkly. "Jasper is sort of an expert on young vampires."
"What do you mean, an expert?"
"You'll have to ask him - the story is involved."
"What a mess," I mumbled.
"It does feel that way, doesn't it? Like it's coming at us from all sides these days." He sighed. "Do you ever think that your life might be easier if you weren't in love with me?"
"Maybe. It wouldn't be much of a life, though."
"For me," he amended quietly. "And now, I suppose," he continued with a wry smile, "you have something you want to ask me?"
I stared at him blankly. "I do?"
"Or maybe not." He grinned. "I was rather under the impression that you'd promised to ask my permission to go to some kind of werewolf soirée tonight."
"Eavesdropping again?"
He grinned. "Just a bit, at the very end."
"Well, I wasn't going to ask you anyway. I figured you had enough to stress about."
He put his hand under my chin, and held my face so that he could read my eyes. "Would you like to go?"
"It's no big thing. Don't worry about it."
"You don't have to ask my permission, Bella. I'm not your father - thank heaven for that. Perhaps you should ask Charlie, though."
"But you know Charlie will say yes."
"I do have a bit more insight into his probable answer than most people would, it's true."
I just stared at him, trying to understand what he wanted, and trying to put out of my mind the yearning I felt to go to La Push so that I wouldn't be swayed by my own wishes. It was stupid to want to go hang out with a bunch of big idiot wolf-boys right now when there was so much that was frightening and unexplained going on. Of course, that was exactly why I wanted to go. I wanted to escape the death threats, for just a few hours . . . to be the less-mature, more-reckless Bella who could laugh it off with Jacob, if only briefly. But that didn't matter.
"Bella," Edward said. "I told you that I was going to be reasonable and trust your judgment. I meant that. If you trust the werewolves, then I'm not going to worry about them."
"Wow," I said, as I had last night.
"And Jacob's right - about one thing, anyway - a pack of werewolves ought to be enough to protect even you for one evening."
"Are you sure?"
"Of course. Only . . ."
I braced myself.
"I hope you won't mind taking a few precautions? Allowing me to drive you to the boundary line, for one. And then taking a cell phone, so that I'll know when to pick you up?"
"That sounds . . . very reasonable."
"Excellent."
He smiled at me, and I could see no trace of apprehension in his jewel-like eyes.
To no one's surprise, Charlie had no problem at all with me going to La Push for a bonfire. Jacob crowed with undisguised exultation when I called to give him the news, and he seemed eager enough to embrace Edward's safety measures. He promised to meet us at the line between territories at six.
I had decided, after a short internal debate, that I would not sell my motorcycle. I would take it back to La Push where it belonged and, when I no longer needed it anymore . . . well, then, I would insist that Jacob profit from his work somehow. He could sell it or give it to a friend. It didn't matter to me.
Tonight seemed like a good opportunity to return the bike to Jacob's garage. As gloomy as I was feeling about things lately, every day seemed like a possible last chance. I didn't have time to procrastinate any task, no matter how minor.
Edward only nodded when I explained what I wanted, but I thought I saw a flicker of consternation in his eyes, and I knew he was no happier about the idea of me on a motorcycle than Charlie was.
I followed him back to his house, to the garage where I'd left the bike. It wasn't until I pulled the truck in and got out that I realized the consternation might not be entirely about my safety this time.
Next to my little antique motorcycle, overshadowing it, was another vehicle. To call this other vehicle a motorcycle hardly seemed fair, since it didn't seem to belong to the same family as my suddenly shabby- looking bike.
It was big and sleek and silver and - even totally motionless - it looked fast.
"What is that?"
"Nothing," Edward murmured.
"It doesn't look like nothing."
Edward's expression was casual; he seemed determined to blow it off. "Well, I didn't know if you were going to forgive your friend, or he you, and I wondered if you would still want to ride your bike anyway. It sounded like it was something that you enjoyed. I thought I could go with you, if you wished." He shrugged.
I stared at the beautiful machine. Beside it, my bike looked like a broken tricycle. I felt a sudden wave of sadness when I realized that this was not a bad analogy for the way I probably looked next to Edward.
"I wouldn't be able to keep up with you," I whispered.
Edward put his hand under my chin and pulled my face around so that he could see it straight on. With one finger, he tried to push the corner of my mouth up.