Disclaimer: I don't own them, I just manipulate them for my sick, twisted pleasure. XD

Chapter One, Bella Point Of View

Jake pressed his warm cheek against the top of my hair.

If I turned my face to the side–if I pressed my lips against his bare shoulder…I knew without any doubt exactly what would follow. It would be very easy. There would be no need for explanations tonight.

But could I do it? Could I betray my absent heart to save my pathetic life?

Butterflies assaulted my stomach as I though about turning my head.

And then, as clearly as if I were in immediate danger, Edward's velvet voice whispered in my ear.

"Be happy," he told me.

I froze.

Jacob felt me stiffen and released me automatically, reaching for the door.

Wait, I wanted to say. Just a minute. But I was still locked in place, listening to the echo of Edward's voice in my head.

Storm-cooled air blew through the cab of the truck.

"OH!" The breath whooshed out of Jacob like someone had punched him in the gut. "Holy crap!"

He slammed the door and twisted the keys in the ignition in the same moment. His hands were shaking so hard I didn't know how he managed it.

"What's wrong?"

He revved the engine too fast; it sputtered and faltered.

"Vampire," he spit out.

The blood rushed from my head and left me dizzy. "How do you know?"

"Because I can smell it! Dammit!"

Jacob's eyes were wild, raking the dark street. He barely seemed aware of the tremors that were rolling through his body. "Phase or get her out of here?" he hissed at himself.

He looked down at me for a split second, taking in my horror-struck eyes and white face, and then he was scanning the street again. "Right. Get you out."

The engine caught with a roar. The tires squealed as he spun the truck around, turning toward our only escape. The headlights washed across the pavement, lit the front of the line of the black forest, and finally glinted off a car parked across the street from my house.

"Stop!" I gasped.

It was a black car–a car I knew. I might be the furthest thing from an autophile, but I could tell you everything about that particular car. It was a Mercedes S55 AMG. I knew the horsepower and the color of the interior. I knew the feel of the powerful engine purring through the frame. I knew the rich smell of the leather seats and the way the extra-dark tint made noon look like dusk through the windows.