Chapter Three

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1 Bella allowed Jacob and Jasper to return her to the Cullen house. She was just glad that everyone else – she knew that there were others; she'd heard them – had gone out of sight. By the time Jacob was leading her up the stairs to the second story, she was glad of Jasper's magical I-don't-give-a-damn mojo. Thoughts of what she'd done kept circling around in her head, over and over, as clear and sharp as if she were still there, still ripping those four innocent campers to pieces, over and over and over until forever. Was this a vampire thing? Non-fading memories? No dimming of once-suffered pain? Was she going to recall this awfulness, this horror, with perfect clarity until the day she ceased to exist?

Well, she did remember every single second of her transformation, so there was some merit to the theory.

Jacob led her upstairs gently, in silence. For a second, she feared she was going to end up in the little room of horrors again, with the metal table and the corner and the broken mirror, but he took her past it and into a big, luxurious bathroom. Looking at the white tiles, the gigantic bathtub, the marble sink, she realised that she'd been in here a number of times before, when...when...what was it again? Something to do with why she'd been dying, why Edward had been compelled to change her. She'd taken baths in here. Someone had helped her.

"Sit here," Jacob said, taking her by the shoulders and guiding her to the toilet.

Obediently, she sat down, wondering when the last time had been that she'd needed one of these contraptions. Odd, wasn't it? She couldn't quite recall. "What happens now?" Focussing solely on him, she was blissfully able to not look down at herself again. Concentrating on his familiar, pleasant, but not at all appetising heartbeat, she managed to tune out all other noises. Unfortunately, what she just couldn't stop perceiving was the stench of coagulated, dead, human blood – to a point, at least. She was still aware of it, as she was aware of all smells within the range of her nostrils.

"Someone's gonna come in here and run you a bath," he said, briefly motioning at the tub, not quite looking her in the eye. "A girl, so don't worry. Not planning to perv on you, or anything."

Briefly, a fragment of a memory flared up: hills, a snowstorm, cold, angry voices, warm hands, a kiss...anguish. As soon as it surfaced, however, it was gone again, and she didn't try to bring it back. Right now, she had bigger problems on her hands. "Girl? What girl?"

Strangely, the question made his entire back tense up. There was a hard line to his mouth, and his pupils narrowed. "Friend of yours," he said, using a snide tone that sounded slightly familiar, but that he hadn't yet used with her – not since she'd died, at least. Maybe never. Then, it looked as if he was chewing on the inside of his cheek. "Alice. You'll remember. Just try not to flip when she bounces in here, chirping, looking weird to you."

"Okay," Bella returned dully, at a loss. The name Alice was familiar to her, and it had positive connotations, just as she'd expect from a friend, but Jacob's demeanour? It was quite unintelligible.

"Okay," he echoed, scratching his neck. "Hey, Bells, can I ask you something...personal?"

She only nodded jerkily, blinking, willing herself to keep her eyes trained on his face and nothing else. Maybe, if she strained herself really hard, she'd be able to separate his scent from all the other smells assaulting her nostrils. It had worked really well with the human blood, after all, earlier.

He crossed his arms before his chest and looked at her squarely, a little frown creasing his forehead. "What do you see when you look at a vampire? Coz you freaked out pretty badly when you saw Wardo for the first time since your...your change."

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