low voice was gruff and angry. "Screw the treaty."

I glanced up at him, and he scowled at my panicked expression.

"Hurry, Bella," Alice interrupted urgently.

I ran to the kitchen, yanking the drawers open and throwing the contents all over the floor as I searched for a pen. A smooth, brown hand held one out to me.

"Thanks," I mumbled, pulling the cap off with my teeth. He silently handed me the pad of paper we wrote phone messages on. I tore off the top sheet and threw it over my shoulder.

Dad, I wrote. I'm with Alice. Edward's in trouble. You can ground me when I get back. I know it's a bad time. So sorry. Love you so much. Bella.

"Don't go," Jacob whispered. The anger was all gone now that Alice was out of sight.

I wasn't about to waste time arguing with him. "Please, please, please take care of Charlie," I said as I dashed back out to the front room. Alice was waiting in the doorway with a bag over her shoulder.

"Get your wallet—you'll need ID. Please tell me you have a passport. I don't have time to forge one."

I nodded and then raced up the stairs, my knees weak with gratitude that my mother had wanted to marry Phil on a beach in Mexico. Of course, like all her plans, it had fallen through. But not before I'd made all the practical arrangements I could for her.

I tore through my room. I stuffed my old wallet, a clean T-shirt, and sweatpants into my backpack, and then threw my toothbrush on top. I hurled myself back down the stairs. The sense of deja vu was nearly stifling by this point. At least, unlike the last time—when I'd run away from Forks to escape thirsty vampires rather than to find them—I wouldn't have to say goodbye to Charlie in person.

Jacob and Alice were locked in some kind of confrontation in front of the open door, standing so far apart you wouldn't assume at first that they were having a conversation. Neither one seemed to notice my noisy reappearance.

"You might control yourself on occasion, but these leeches you're taking her to—" Jacob was furiously accusing her.

"Yes. You're right, dog." Alice was snarling, too. "The Volturi are the very essence of our kind—they're

the reason your hair stands on end when you smell me. They are the substance of your nightmares, the dread behind your instincts. I'm not unaware of that."

"And you take her to them like a bottle of wine for a party!" he shouted.

"You think she'd be better off if I left her here alone, with Victoria stalking her?"

"We can handle the redhead."

"Then why is she still hunting?"

Jacob growled, and a shudder rippled through his torso.

"Stop that!" I shouted at them both, wild with impatience. "Argue when we get back, let's go!"

Alice turned for the car, disappearing in her haste. I hurried after her, pausing automatically to turn and lock the door.

Jacob caught my arm with a shivering hand. "Please, Bella. I'm begging."

His dark eyes were glistening with tears. A lump filled my throat.

"Jake, I have to—"

"You don't, though. You really don't. You could stay here with me. You could stay alive. For Charlie. For me."

The engine of Carlisle's Mercedes purred; the rhythm of the thrumming spiked when Alice revved it impatiently.

I shook my head, tears spattering from my eyes with the sharp motion. I pulled my arm free, and he didn't fight me.

"Don't die, Bella," he choked out. "Don't go. Don't."

What if I never saw him again?

The thought pushed me past the silent tears; a sob broke out from my chest. I threw my arms around his waist and hugged for one too-short moment, burying my tear-wet face against his chest. He put his big hand on the back of my hair, as if to hold me there.

"Bye, Jake." I pulled his hand from my hair, and kissed his palm. I couldn't bear to look at his face. "Sorry," I whispered.

Then I spun and raced for the car. The door on the passenger side was open and waiting. I threw my backpack over the headrest and slid in, slamming the door behind me.

"Take care of Charlie!" I turned to shout out the window, but Jacob was nowhere in sight. As Alice stomped on the gas and—with the tires screeching like human screams—spun us around to face the road, I caught sight of a shred of white near the edge of the trees. A piece of a shoe.

19. HATE

WE MADE OUR FLIGHT WITH