22 FIRE AND ICE
THE WIND SHOOK THE TENT AGAIN, AND I SHOOK WITH IT.
The temperature was dropping. I could feel it through the down bag, through my jacket. I was fully dressed, my hiking boots still laced into place. It didn’t make any difference. How could it be so cold? How could it keep getting colder? It had to bottom out sometime, didn’t it?
“W-w-w-w-w-what t-t-t-t-time is it?” I forced the words through my rattling teeth.
“Two,” Edward answered.
Edward sat as far from me as possible in the cramped space, afraid to even breathe on me when I was already so cold. It was too dark to see his face, but his voice was wild with worry, indecision, and frustration.
“Maybe . . .”
“No, I’m f-f-f-f-f-fine, r-r-r-really. I don’t w-w-w-want to g-go outside.”
He’d tried to talk me into making a run for it a dozen times already, but I was terrified of leaving my shelter. If it was this cold in here, protected from the raging wind, I could imagine how bad it would be if we were running through it.
And it would waste all our efforts this afternoon. Would we have enough time to reset ourselves when the storm was over? What if it didn’t end? It made no sense to move now. I could shiver my way through one night.
I was worried that the trail I had laid would be lost, but he promised that it would still be plain to the coming monsters.
“What can I do?” he almost begged.
I just shook my head.
Out in the snow, Jacob whined unhappily.
“G-g-g-get out of h-h-h-ere,” I ordered, again.
“He’s just worried about you,” Edward translated. “He’s fine. His body is equipped to deal with this.”
“H-h-h-h-h-h.” I wanted to say that he should still leave, but I couldn’t get it past my teeth. I nearly bit my tongue off trying. At least Jacob did seem to be well equipped for the snow, better even than the others in his pack with his thicker, longer, shaggy russet fur. I wondered why that was.
Jacob whimpered, a high-pitched, grating sound of complaint.
“What do you want me to do?” Edward growled, too anxious to bother with politeness anymore. “Carry her through that? I don’t see you making yourself useful. Why don’t you go fetch a space heater or something?”
“I’m ok-k-k-k-k-k-kay,” I protested. Judging from Edward’s groan and the muted growl outside the tent, I hadn’t convinced anyone. The wind rocked the tent roughly, and I shuddered in harmony with it.
A sudden howl ripped through the roar of the wind, and I covered my ears against the noise. Edward scowled.
“That was hardly necessary,” he muttered. “And that’s the worst idea I’ve ever heard,” he called more loudly.
“Better than anything you’ve come up with,” Jacob answered, his human voice startling me. “Go fetch a space heater,” he grumbled. “I’m not a St. Bernard.”
I heard the sound of the zipper around the tent door pulling swiftly down.
Jacob slid through the smallest opening he could manage, while the arctic air flowed in around him, a few flecks of snow falling to the floor of the tent. I shivered so hard it was a convulsion.
“I don’t like this,” Edward hissed as Jake zipped the tent door shut. “Just give her the coat and get out.”
My eyes were adjusted enough to see shapes — Jacob was carrying the parka that had been hanging on a tree next to the tent.
I tried to ask what they were talking about, but all that came out of my mouth was, “W-w-w-w-w-w,” as the shivering made me stutter uncontrollably.
“The parka’s for tomorrow — she’s too cold to warm it up by herself. It’s frozen.” He dropped it by the door. “You said she needed a space heater, and here I am.” Jacob held his arms as wide as the tent allowed. As usual, when he’d been running around as a wolf, he’d only thrown on the bare essentials — just a pair of sweats, no shirt, no shoes.
“J-J-J-J-Jake, you’ll f-f-f-freez-z-z-ze,” I tried to complain.
“Not me,” he said cheerfully. “I run at a toasty one-oh-eight point nine these days. I’ll have you sweating in no time.”
Edward snarled, but Jacob didn’t even look at him. Instead, he crawled to my side and started unzipping my sleeping bag.
Edward’s hand was suddenly hard on his shoulder, restraining, snow white against the dark skin. Jacob’s jaw clenched, his nostrils flaring, his body recoiling from the cold touch. The long muscles in his arms flexed automatically.
“Get your hand off of me,” he growled through his teeth.
“Keep your hands off of her,” Edward answered blackly.
“D-d-d-don’t f-f-f-f-fight,” I pleaded. Another tremor rocked through me. It felt like my teeth were going to shatter, they were slamming together so hard.
“I’m sure she’ll thank you for this when her toes turn black and drop off,” Jacob snapped.
Edward hesitated, then his hand fell away and he slid back to his position in the corner.
His voice was flat and frightening. “Watch yourself.”
Jacob chuckled.
“Scoot over, Bella,” he said, zipping the sleeping bag open farther.
I stared at him in outrage. No wonder Edward was reacting this way.
“N-n-n-n-n,” I tried to protest.
“Don’t be stupid,” he said, exasperated. “Don’t you like having ten toes?”
He crammed his body into the nonexistent space, forcing the zipper up behind himself.
And then I couldn’t object — I didn’t want to anymore. He was so warm. His arms constricted around me, holding me snugly against his bare chest. The heat was irresistible, like air after being underwater for too long. He cringed when I pressed my icy fingers eagerly against his skin.
“Jeez, you’re freezing, Bella,” he complained.
“S-s-s-s-sorry,” I stuttered.
“Try to relax,” he suggested as another shiver rippled through me violently. “You’ll be warm in a minute. Of course, you’d warm up faster if you took your clothes off.”
Edward growled sharply.
“That’s just a simple fact,” Jacob defended himself. “Survival one-oh-one.”
“C-c-cut it out, Jake,” I said angrily, though my body refused to even try to pull away from him. “N-n-n-nobody really n-n-n-n-needs all ten t-t-t-toes.”
“Don’t worry about the bloodsucker,” Jacob suggested, and his tone was smug. “He’s just jealous.”
“Of course I am.” Edward’s voice was velvet again, under control, a musical murmur in the darkness. “You don’t have the faintest idea how much I wish I could do what you’re doing for her, mongrel.”
“Those are the breaks,” Jacob said lightly, but then his tone soured. “At least you know she wishes it was you.”
“True,” Edward agreed.
The shuddering slowed, became bearable while they wrangled.
“There,” Jacob said, pleased. “Feeling better?”
I was finally able to speak clearly. “Yes.”
“Your lips are still blue,” he mused. “Want me to warm those up for you, too? You only have to ask.”
Edward sighed heavily.
“Behave yourself,” I muttered, pressing my face against his shoulder. He flinched again when my cold skin touched his, and I smiled with slightly vindictive satisfaction.
It was already warm and snug inside the sleeping bag. Jacob’s body heat seemed to radiate from every side — maybe because there was so much of him. I kicked my boots off, and pushed my toes against his legs. He jumped slightly, and then leaned his head down to press his hot cheek against my numb ear.
I noticed that Jacob’s skin had a woodsy, musky scent — it fit the setting, here in the middle of the forest. It was nice. I wondered if the Cullens and the Quileutes weren’t just playing up that whole odor issue because of their prejudices. Everyone smelled fine to me.
The storm howled like an animal attacking the tent, but it didn’t worry me now. Jacob was out of the cold, and so was I. Plus, I was simply too exhausted to worry about anything — tired from just staying awake so late, and aching from the muscle spasms. My body relaxed slowly as I thawed, piece by frozen piece, and then turned limp.
“Jake?” I mumbled sleepily. “Can I ask you something? I’m not trying to be a jerk or anything, I’m honestly curious.” They were the same words he’d used in my kitchen . . . how long ago was it now?
“Sure,” he chuckled, remembering.
“Why are you so much furrier than your friends? You don’t have to answer if I’m being rude.” I didn’t know the rules for etiquette as they applied to werewolf culture.
“Because my hair is longer,” he said, amused — my question hadn’t offended him, at least. He shook his head so that his unkempt hair — grown out to his chin now — tickled my cheek.
“Oh.” I was surprised, but it made sense. So that was why they’d all cropped their hair in the beginning, when they joined the pack. “Then why don’t you cut it? Do you like to be shaggy?”
He didn’t answer right away this time, and Edward laughed under his breath.
“Sorry,” I said, pausing to yawn. “I didn’t mean to pry. You don’t have to tell me.”
Jacob made an annoyed sound. “Oh, he’ll tell you anyway, so I might as well. . . . I was growing my hair out because . . . it seemed like you liked it better long.”
“Oh.” I felt awkward. “I, er, like it both ways, Jake. You don’t need to be . . . inconvenienced.”
He shrugged. “Turns out it was very convenient tonight, so don’t worry about it.”
I didn’t have anything else to say. As the silence lengthened, my eyelids drooped and shut, and my breathing grew slower, more even.
“That’s right, honey, go to sleep,” Jacob whispered.
I sighed, content, already half-unconscious.
“Seth is here,” Edward muttered to Jacob, and I suddenly understood the point of the howling.
“Perfect. Now you can keep an eye on everything else, while I take care of your girlfriend for you.”
Edward didn’t answer, but I groaned groggily. “Stop it,” I muttered.
It was quiet then, inside at least. Outside, the wind shrieked insanely through the trees. The shimmying of the tent made it hard to sleep. The poles would suddenly jerk and quiver, pulling me back from the edge of unconsciousness each time I was close to slipping under. I felt so bad for the wolf, the boy that was stuck outside in the snow.
My mind wandered as I waited for sleep to find me. This warm little space made me think of the early days with Jacob, and I remembered how it used to be when he was my replacement sun, the warmth that made my empty life livable. It had been a while since I’d thought of Jake that way, but here he was, warming me again.