To my husband, Pancho,

for your patience, love, friendship, humor,

and willingness to eat out.


And also to my children, Gabe, Seth, and Eli,

for letting me experience the kind of love that people freely die for.



Fire and Ice

Some say the world will end in fire,

Some say in ice.

From what Ive tasted of desire

I hold with those who favor fire.

But if it had to perish twice,

I think I know enough of hate

To say that for destruction ice

Is also great

And would suffice.

Robert Frost



PREFACE

ALL OUR ATTEMPTS AT SUBTERFUGE HAD BEEN IN VAIN.

With ice in my heart, I watched him prepare to defend me. His intense concentration betrayed no hint of
doubt, though he was outnumbered. I knew that we could expect no help  at this moment, his family
was fighting for their lives just as surely as he was for ours.

Would I ever learn the outcome of that other fight? Find out who the winners and the losers were?
Would I live long enough for that?
The odds of that didnt look so great.

 Black eyes, wild with their fierce craving for my death, watched for the moment when my protectors
attention would be diverted. The moment when I would surely die.

Somewhere, far, far away in the cold forest, a wolf howled.



1. ULTIMATUM

Bella,

 I dont know why youre making Charlie carry notes to Billy like were in second grade  if I wanted
to talk to you I would answer the

You made the choice here, okay? You cant have it both ways when

What part of mortal enemies is too complicated for you to

Look, I know Im being a jerk, but theres just no way around

We cant be friends when youre spending all your time with a bunch of

It just makes it worse when I think about you too much, so dont write anymore

Yeah, I miss you, too. A lot. Doesnt change anything. Sorry.

Jacob

 I ran my fingers across the page, feeling the dents where he had pressed the pen to the paper so hard
that it had nearly broken through. I could picture him writing this  scrawling the angry letters in his
rough handwriting, slashing through line after line when the words came out wrong, maybe even snapping
the pen in his too-big hand; that would explain the ink splatters. I could imagine the frustration pulling his
black eyebrows together and crumpling his forehead. If Id been there, I might have laughed.Dont give
yourself a brain hemorrhage, Jacob, I would have told him.Just spit it out.

 Laughing was the last thing I felt like doing now as I reread the words Id already memorized. His
answer to my pleading note  passed from Charlie to Billy to him, just like second grade, as hed
pointed out  was no surprise. Id known the essence of what it would say before Id opened it.

 What was surprising was how much each crossed-out line wounded me  as if the points of the letters
had cutting edges. More than that, behind each angry beginning lurked a vast pool of hurt; Jacobs pain
cut me deeper than my own.

 While I was pondering this, I caught the unmistakable scent of a smoking burner rising from the kitchen.
In another house, the fact that someone besides myself was cooking might not be a cause for panicking.

I shoved the wrinkled paper into my back pocket and ran, making it downstairs in the nick of time.

The jar of spaghetti sauce Charlied stuck in the microwave was only on its first revolution when I
yanked the door open and pulled it out.

What did I do wrong? Charlie demanded.

 Youre supposed to take the lid off first, Dad. Metals bad for microwaves. I swiftly removed the lid
as I spoke, poured half the sauce into a bowl, and then put the bowl inside the microwave and the jar
back in the fridge; I fixed the time and pressed start.

Charlie watched my adjustments with pursed lips. Did I get the noodles right?

I looked in the pan on the stove  the source of the smell that had alerted me. Stirring helps, I said
mildly. I found a spoon and tried to de-clump the mushy hunk that was scalded to the bottom.

Charlie sighed.

So whats all this about? I asked him.

He folded his arms across his chest and glared out the back windows into the sheeting rain. Dont
know what youre talking about, he grumbled.

 I was mystified. Charlie cooking? And what was with the surly attitude? Edward wasnt here yet; usually
my dad reserved this kind of behavior for my boyfriends benefit, doing his best to illustrate the theme of
unwelcome with every word and posture. Charlies efforts were unnecessary  Edward knew exactly
what my dad was thinking without the show.

The wordboyfriend had me chewing on the inside of my cheek with a familiar tension while I stirred. It
wasnt the right word, not at all. I needed something more expressive of eternal commitment. . . . But
words likedestiny andfate sounded hokey when you used them in casual conversation.

 Edward had another word in mind, and that word was the source of the tension I felt. It put my teeth on
edge just to think it to myself.

Fianc?e. Ugh. I shuddered away from the thought.

 Did I miss something? Since when do you make dinner? I asked Charlie. The pasta lump bobbed in
the boiling water as I poked it. Ortry to make dinner, I should say.

Charlie shrugged. Theres no law that says I cant cook in my own house.

You would know, I replied, grinning as I eyed the badge pinned to his leather jacket.

 Ha. Good one. He shrugged out of the jacket as if my glance had reminded him he still had it on, and
hung it on the peg reserved for his gear. His gun belt was already slung in place  he hadnt felt the need
to wear that to the station for a few weeks. There had been no more disturbing disappearances to trouble
the small town of Forks, Washington, no more sightings of the giant, mysterious wolves in the ever-rainy
woods. . . .

 I prodded the noodles in silence, guessing that Charlie would get around to talking about whatever was
bothering him in his own time. My dad was not a man of many words, and the effort he had put into
trying to orchestrate a sit-down dinner with me made it clear there were an uncharacteristic number of
words on his mind.
I glanced at the clock routinely  something I did every few minutes around this time. Less than a half
hour to go now.

 Afternoons were the hardest part of my day. Ever since my former best friend (and werewolf), Jacob
Black, had informed on me about the motorcycle Id been riding on the sly  a betrayal he had devised
in order to get me grounded so that I couldnt spend time with my boyfriend (and vampire), Edward
Cullen  Edward had been allowed to see me only from seven till nine-thirty p.m., always inside the
confines of my home and under the supervision of my dads unfailingly crabby glare.

This was an escalation from the previous, slightly less stringent grounding that Id earned for an
unexplained three-day disappearance and one episode of cliff diving.

 Of course, I still saw Edward at school, because there wasnt anything Charlie could do about that. And
then, Edward spent almost every night in my room, too, but Charlie wasnt precisely aware of that.
Edwards ability to climb easily and silently through my second-story window was almost as useful as his
ability to read Charlies mind.

 Though the afternoon was the only time I spent away from Edward, it was enough to make me restless,
and the hours always dragged. Still, I endured my punishment without complaining because  for one
thing  I knew Id earned it, and  for another  because I couldnt bear to hurt my dad by moving
out now, when a much more permanent separation hovered, invisible to Charlie, so close on my horizon.

My dad sat down at the table with a grunt and unfolded the damp newspaper there; within seconds he
was clucking his tongue in disapproval.

I dont know why you read the news, Dad. It only ticks you off.

He ignored me, grumbling at the paper in his hands. This is why everyone wants to live in a small town!
Ridiculous.

What have big cities done wrong now?

Seattles making a run for murder capital of the country. Five unsolved homicides in the last two weeks.
Can you imagine living like that?

 I think Phoenix is actually higher up the homicide list, Dad. Ihave lived like that. And Id never come
close to being a murder victim until after I moved to his safe little town. In fact, I was still on several hit
lists. . . . The spoon shook in my hands, making the water tremble.

Well, you couldnt pay me enough, Charlie said.

 I gave up on saving dinner and settled for serving it; I had to use a steak knife to cut a portion of
spaghetti for Charlie and then myself, while he watched with a sheepish expression. Charlie coated his
helping with sauce and dug in. I disguised my own clump as well as I could and followed his example
without much enthusiasm. We ate in silence for a moment. Charlie was still scanning the news, so I
picked up my much-abused copy ofWuthering Heights from where Id left it this morning at breakfast,
and tried to lose myself in turn-of-the-century England while I waited for him to start talking.

 I was just to the part where Heathcliff returns when Charlie cleared his throat and threw the paper to the
floor.
 Youre right, Charlie said. I did have a reason for doing this. He waved his fork at the gluey spread.
I wanted to talk to you.

 I laid the book aside; the binding was so destroyed that it slumped flat to the table. You could have just
asked.

He nodded, his eyebrows pulling together. Yeah. Ill remember that next time. I thought taking dinner
off your hands would soften you up.

I laughed. It worked  your cooking skills have me soft as a marshmallow. What do you need, Dad?

Well, its about Jacob.

I felt my face harden. What about him? I asked through stiff lips.

 Easy, Bells. I know youre still upset that he told on you, but it was the right thing. He was being
responsible.

Responsible, I repeated scathingly, rolling my eyes. Right. So, what about Jacob?

The careless question repeated inside my head, anything but trivial.What about Jacob? Whatwas I
going to do about him? My former best friend who was now . . . what? My enemy? I cringed.

Charlies face was suddenly wary. Dont get mad at me, okay?

Mad?

Well, its about Edward, too.

My eyes narrowed.

Charlies voice got gruffer. I let him in the house, dont I?

 You do, I admitted. For brief periods of time. Of course, you might let meout of the house for brief
periods now and then, too, I continued  only jokingly; I knew I was on lockdown for the duration of
the school year. Ive been pretty good lately.

Well, thats kind of where I was heading with this. . . . And then Charlies face stretched into an
unexpected eye-crinkling grin; for a second he looked twenty years younger.

 I saw a dim glimmer of possibility in that smile, but I proceeded slowly. Im confused, Dad. Are we
talking about Jacob, or Edward, or me being grounded?

The grin flashed again. Sort of all three.

And how do they relate? I asked, cautious.

Okay. He sighed, raising his hands as if in surrender. So Im thinking maybe you deserve a parole for
good behavior. For a teenager, youre amazingly non-whiney.
My voice and eyebrows shot up. Seriously? Im free?

 Where was this coming from? Id been positive I would be under house arrest until I actually moved out,
and Edward hadnt picked up any wavering in Charlies thoughts. . . .

Charlie held up one finger. Conditionally.

The enthusiasm vanished. Fantastic, I groaned.

 Bella, this is more of a request than a demand, okay? Youre free. But Im hoping youll use that
freedom . . . judiciously.

What does that mean?

He sighed again. I know youre satisfied to spend all of your time with Edward 

I spend time with Alice, too, I interjected. Edwards sister had no hours of visitation; she came and
went as she pleased. Charlie was putty in her capable hands.

Thats true, he said. But you have other friends besides the Cullens, Bella. Or youused to.

We stared at each other for a long moment.

When was the last time you spoke to Angela Weber? he threw at me.

Friday at lunch, I answered immediately.

 Before Edwards return, my school friends had polarized into two groups. I liked to think of those
groups asgood vs.evil. Us andthem worked, too. The good guys were Angela, her steady boyfriend
Ben Cheney, and Mike Newton; these three had all very generously forgiven me for going crazy when
Edward left. Lauren Mallory was the evil core of thethem side, and almost everyone else, including my
first friend in Forks, Jessica Stanley, seemed content to go along with her anti-Bella agenda.

With Edward back at school, the dividing line had become even more distinct.

 Edwards return had taken its toll on Mikes friendship, but Angela was unswervingly loyal, and Ben
followed her lead. Despite the natural aversion most humans felt toward the Cullens, Angela sat dutifully
beside Alice every day at lunch. After a few weeks, Angela even looked comfortable there. It was
difficult not to be charmed by the Cullens  once one gave them the chance to be charming.

Outside of school? Charlie asked, calling my attention back.

I havent seenanyone outside of school, Dad. Grounded, remember? And Angela has a boyfriend, too.
Shes always with Ben.If Im really free, I added, heavy on the skepticism, maybe we could double.

Okay. But then . . . He hesitated. You and Jake used to be joined at the hip, and now 

I cut him off. Can you get to the point, Dad? Whats your condition  exactly?

 I dont think you should dump all your other friends for your boyfriend, Bella, he said in a stern voice.
Its not nice, and I think your life would be better balanced if you kept some other people in it. What
happened last September . . .

I flinched.

 Well, he said defensively. If youd had more of a life outside of Edward Cullen, it might not have been
like that.

It would have been exactly like that, I muttered.

Maybe, maybe not.

The point? I reminded him.

Use your new freedom to see your other friends, too. Keep it balanced.

I nodded slowly. Balance is good. Do I have specific time quotas to fill, though?

 He made a face, but shook his head. I dont want to make this complicated. Just dont forget your
friends . . .

It was a dilemma I was already struggling with. My friends. People who, for their own safety, I would
never be able to see again after graduation.

So what was the better course of action? Spend time with them while I could? Or start the separation
now to make it more gradual? I quailed at the idea of the second option.

. . . particularly Jacob, Charlie added before I could think things through more than that.

 A greater dilemma than the first. It took me a moment to find the right words. Jacob might be . . .
difficult.

The Blacks are practically family, Bella, he said, stern and fatherly again. And Jacob has been a very,
very good friend to you.

I know that.

Dont you miss him at all? Charlie asked, frustrated.

 My throat suddenly felt swollen; I had to clear it twice before I answered. Yes, I do miss him, I
admitted, still looking down. I miss him a lot.

Then why is it difficult?

 It wasnt something I was at liberty to explain. It was against the rules for normal people human
people like me and Charlie  to know about the clandestine world full of myths and monsters that
existed secretly around us. I knew all about that world  and I was in no small amount of trouble as a
result. I wasnt about to get Charlie in the same trouble.

With Jacob there is a . . . conflict, I said slowly. A conflict about the friendship thing, I mean.
Friendship doesnt always seem to be enough for Jake. I wound my excuse out of details that were true
but insignificant, hardly crucial compared to the fact that Jacobs werewolf pack bitterly hated Edwards
vampire family  and therefore me, too, as I fully intended to join that family. It just wasnt something I
could work out with him in a note, and he wouldnt answer my calls. But my plan to deal with the
werewolf in person had definitely not gone over well with the vampires.

Isnt Edward up for a little healthy competition? Charlies voice was sarcastic now.

I leveled a dark look at him. Theres no competition.

Youre hurting Jakes feelings, avoiding him like this. Hed rather be just friends than nothing.

Oh, nowI was avoidinghim ?

Im pretty sure Jake doesnt want to be friends at all. The words burned in my mouth. Whered you
get that idea, anyway?

Charlie looked embarrassed now. The subject might have come up today with Billy. . . .

 You and Billy gossip like old women, I complained, stabbing my fork viciously into the congealed
spaghetti on my plate.

Billys worried about Jacob, Charlie said. Jakes having a hard time right now. . . . Hes depressed.

I winced, but kept my eyes on the blob.

And then you were always so happy after spending the day with Jake. Charlie sighed.

Im happynow , I growled fiercely through my teeth.

The contrast between my words and tone broke through the tension. Charlie burst into laughter, and I
had to join in.

Okay, okay, I agreed. Balance.

And Jacob, he insisted.

Ill try.

Good. Find that balance, Bella. And, oh, yeah, youve got some mail, Charlie said, closing the subject
with no attempt at subtlety. Its by the stove.

 I didnt move, my thoughts twisting into snarls around Jacobs name. It was most likely junk mail; Id
just gotten a package from my mom yesterday and I wasnt expecting anything else.

 Charlie shoved his chair away from the table and stretched as he got to his feet. He took his plate to the
sink, but before he turned the water on to rinse it, he paused to toss a thick envelope at me. The letter
skidded across the table andthunk ed into my elbow.

 Er, thanks, I muttered, puzzled by his pushiness. Then I saw the return address  the letter was from
the University of Alaska Southeast. That was quick. I guess I missed the deadline on that one, too.

Charlie chuckled.
I flipped the envelope over and then glared up at him. Its open.

I was curious.

Im shocked, Sheriff. Thats a federal crime.

Oh, just read it.

I pulled out the letter, and a folded schedule of courses.

Congratulations, he said before I could read anything. Your first acceptance.

Thanks, Dad.

We should talk about tuition. Ive got some money saved up 

Hey, hey, none of that. Im not touching your retirement, Dad. Ive got my college fund. What was left
of it  and there hadnt been much to begin with.

 Charlie frowned. Some of these places are pretty pricey, Bells. I want to help. You dont have to go to
all the way to Alaska just because its cheaper.

 It wasnt cheaper, not at all. But itwas far away, and Juneau had an average of three hundred
twenty-one overcast days per year. The first was my prerequisite, the second was Edwards.

Ive got it covered. Besides, theres lots of financial aid out there. Its easy to get loans. I hoped my
bluff wasnt too obvious. I hadnt actually done a lot of research on the subject.

So . . . , Charlie began, and then he pursed his lips and looked away.

So what?

Nothing. I was just . . . He frowned. Just wondering what . . . Edwards plans are for next year?

Oh.

Well?

Three quick raps on the door saved me. Charlie rolled his eyes and I jumped up.

Coming! I called while Charlie mumbled something that sounded like, Go away. I ignored him and
went to let Edward in.

I wrenched the door out of my way  ridiculously eager  and there he was, my personal miracle.

 Time had not made me immune to the perfection of his face, and I was sure that I would never take any
aspect of him for granted. My eyes traced over his pale white features: the hard square of his jaw, the
softer curve of his full lips  twisted up into a smile now, the straight line of his nose, the sharp angle of
his cheekbones, the smooth marble span of his forehead  partially obscured by a tangle of
rain-darkened bronze hair. . . .
 I saved his eyes for last, knowing that when I looked into them I was likely to lose my train of thought.
They were wide, warm with liquid gold, and framed by a thick fringe of black lashes. Staring into his eyes
always made me feel extraordinary  sort of like my bones were turning spongy. I was also a little
lightheaded, but that could have been because Id forgotten to keep breathing. Again.

 It was a face any male model in the world would trade his soul for. Of course, that might be exactly the
asking price: one soul.

No. I didnt believe that. I felt guilty for even thinking it, and was glad  as I was often glad  that I
was the one person whose thoughts were a mystery to Edward.

 I reached for his hand, and sighed when his cold fingers found mine. His touch brought with it the
strangest sense of relief  as if Id been in pain and that pain had suddenly ceased.

Hey. I smiled a little at my anticlimactic greeting.

 He raised our interlaced fingers to brush my cheek with the back of his hand. How was your
afternoon?

Slow.

For me, as well.

 He pulled my wrist up to his face, our hands still twisted together. His eyes closed as his nose skimmed
along the skin there, and he smiled gently without opening them. Enjoying the bouquet while resisting the
wine, as hed once put it.

I knew that the scent of my blood  so much sweeter to him than any other persons blood, truly like
wine beside water to an alcoholic  caused him actual pain from the burning thirst it engendered. But he
didnt seem to shy away from it as much as he once had. I could only dimly imagine the Herculean effort
behind this simple gesture.

 It made me sad that he had to try so hard. I comforted myself with the knowledge that I wouldnt be
causing him pain much longer.

I heard Charlie approaching then, stamping his feet on the way to express his customary displeasure with
our guest. Edwards eyes snapped open and he let our hands fall, keeping them twined.

Good evening, Charlie. Edward was always flawlessly polite, though Charlie didnt deserve it.

Charlie grunted at him, and then stood there with his arms crossed over his chest. He was taking the idea
of parental supervision to extremes lately.

I brought another set of applications, Edward told me then, holding up a stuffed manila envelope. He
was wearing a roll of stamps like a ring around his littlest finger.

I groaned. How were there any colleges left that he hadnt forced me to apply to already? And how did
he keep finding these loophole openings? It was so late in the year.

He smiled as if hecould read my thoughts; they must have been very obvious on my face. There are still
a few open deadlines. And a few places willing to make exceptions.

I could just imagine the motivations behind such exceptions. And the dollar amounts involved.

Edward laughed at my expression.

Shall we? he asked, towing me toward the kitchen table.

 Charlie huffed and followed behind, though he could hardly complain about the activity on tonights
agenda. Hed been pestering me to make a decision about college on a daily basis.

I cleared the table quickly while Edward organized an intimidating stack of forms. When I moved
Wuthering Heights to the counter, Edward raised one eyebrow. I knew what he was thinking, but
Charlie interrupted before Edward could comment.

 Speaking of college applications, Edward, Charlie said, his tone even more sullen  he tried to avoid
addressing Edward directly, and when he had to, it exacerbated his bad mood. Bella and I were just
talking about next year. Have you decided where youre going to school?

 Edward smiled up at Charlie and his voice was friendly. Not yet. Ive received a few acceptance
letters, but Im still weighing my options.

Where have you been accepted? Charlie pressed.

 Syracuse . . . Harvard . . . Dartmouth . . . and I just got accepted to the University of Alaska Southeast
today. Edward turned his face slightly to the side so that he could wink at me. I stifled a giggle.

 Harvard? Dartmouth? Charlie mumbled, unable to conceal his awe. Well thats pretty . . . thats
something. Yeah, but the University of Alaska . . . you wouldnt really consider that when you could go
Ivy League. I mean, your father would want you to . . .

Carlisles always fine with whatever I choose to do, Edward told him serenely.

Hmph.

Guess what, Edward? I asked in a bright voice, playing along.

What, Bella?

I pointed to the thick envelope on the counter. I just gotmy acceptance to the University of Alaska!

Congratulations! He grinned. What a coincidence.

 Charlies eyes narrowed and he glared back and forth between the two of us. Fine, he muttered after
a minute. Im going to go watch the game, Bella. Nine-thirty.

That was his usual parting command.

Er, Dad? Re