I don't want to be a vampire. A lot of other people do and I think it's that dual nature - we have, you know, terrifying/intriguing.

I tensed, waiting for the fury - both his and mine - but it was only quiet and calm in the darkness of his room. I could almost taste the sweetness of reunion in the air, a separate fragrance from the perfume of his breath; the emptiness when we were apart left its own bitter aftertaste, something I didn't consciously notice until it was removed. There was no friction in the space between us. The stillness was peaceful - not like the calm before the tempest, but like a clear night untouched by even the dream of a storm.

Speak of the devil, and the devil shall appear.

My name is Jared Howe. I haven't spoken to another human being in more than two years, so I'm sure I must seem...a little crazy to you.

I wondered – would a bullet through my temple actually kill me or just leave a really big mess for me to clean up?

How sad. How frightening. To be filled with so much hate that you could not even rejoice in the healing of a child...How did anyone ever come to that point?

"Hey Jacob!" I felt an unfamiliar surge of enthusiasm at his smile. I realized that I was pleased to see him. This knowledge surprised me. I smiled back, and something clicked silently into place, like two corresponding puzzle pieces. I'd forgotten how much I really liked Jacob Black.