Eclipse - Stephenie Meyer [199]
I remembered back to when I used to think that Leah was pretty, maybe even beautiful. That was a long time ago. No one thought of her that way now. Except for Sam. He was never going to forgive himself. Like it was his fault that she’d turned into this bitter harpy.
Her scowl heated up, as if she could guess what I was thinking. Probably could.
“This is making me sick, Jacob. Can you imagine what this feels like to me? I don’t even like Bella Swan. And you’ve got me grieving over this leech-lover like I’m in love with her, too. Can you see where that might be a little confusing? I dreamed about kissing her last night! What the hell am I supposed to do with that?”
“Do I care?”
“I can’t stand being in your head anymore! Get over her already! She’s going to marry that thing. He’s going to try to change her into one of them! Time to move on, boy.”
“Shut up,” I growled.
It would be wrong to strike back. I knew that. I was biting my tongue. But she’d be sorry if she didn’t walk away. Now.
“He’ll probably just kill her anyway,” Leah said. Sneering. “All the stories say that happens more often than not. Maybe a funeral will be better closure than a wedding. Ha.”
This time I had to work. I closed my eyes and fought the hot taste in my mouth. I pushed and shoved against the slide of fire down my back, wrestling to keep my shape together while my body tried to shake apart.
When I was in control again, I glowered at her. She was watching my hands as the tremors slowed. Smiling.
Some joke.
“If you’re upset about gender confusion, Leah . . . ,” I said. Slow, emphasizing each word. “How do you think the rest of us like looking at Sam through your eyes? It’s bad enough that Emily has to deal with your fixation. She doesn’t need us guys panting after him, too.”
Pissed as I was, I still felt guilty when I watched the spasm of pain shoot across her face.
She scrambled to her feet — pausing only to spit in my direction — and ran for the trees, vibrating like a tuning fork.
I laughed darkly. “You missed.”
Sam was going to give me hell for that, but it was worth it. Leah wouldn’t bug me anymore. And I’d do it again if I had the chance.
Because her words were still there, scratching themselves into my brain, the pain of it so strong that I could hardly breathe.
It didn’t matter so much that Bella’d chosen someone else over me. That agony was nothing at all. That agony I could live with for the rest of my stupid, too long, stretched-out life.
But it did matter that she was giving up everything — that she was letting her heart stop and her skin ice over and her mind twist into some crystallized predator’s head. A monster. A stranger.
I would have thought there was nothing worse than that, nothing more painful in the whole world.
But, if he killed her . . .
Again, I had to fight the rage. Maybe, if not for Leah, it would be good to let the heat change me into a creature who could deal with it better. A creature with instincts so much stronger than human emotions. An animal who couldn’t feel pain in the same way. A different pain. Some variety, at least. But Leah was running now, and I didn’t want to share her thoughts. I cussed her under my breath for taking away that escape, too.
My hands were shaking in spite of me. What shook them? Anger? Agony? I wasn’t sure what I was fighting now.
I had to believe that Bella would survive. But that required trust — a trust I didn’t want to feel, a trust in that bloodsucker’s ability to keep her alive.
She would be different, and I wondered how that would affect me. Would it be the same as if she had died, to see her standing there like a stone? Like ice? When her scent burned in my nostrils and triggered the instinct to rip, to tear . . . How would that be? Could I want to kill her? Could I not want to kill one of them?
I watched the swells roll toward the beach. They disappeared from sight under the edge of the cliff, but I heard them beat against the sand. I watched them until it was late, long after dark.
Going home was probably a bad idea.