Shifting Moon

Chapter 231 - 231: The List

Three days before Christmas, the Cullen house stopped feeling like a home and started feeling like a very expensive evacuation center for dangerous people with excellent posture.No one said that out loud.

Mostly because all of the dangerous people had excellent hearing.

The first few arrivals had been treated like emergencies. Every sound mattered. Every expression mattered. Every door opened too slowly or too quickly. Every new vampire had to be guided through the same impossible path.

Listen first.

Breathe.

Look second.

Do not panic in front of the children.

That last one had mixed results.

After Denali, the process had not become easier.

It had become organized.

There were too many vampires in the house now. Too many scents layered over one another. Too many ancient eyes tracking every doorway, every heartbeat, every movement from the children. None of them were cruel. Most were careful.

Careful did not mean comfortable.

Harry and Nancy had learned quickly which guests smiled too much, which ones stared too long, and which ones were safest to sit near. Carmen was safe. Maggie was safe. Siobhan was safe if she was not looking thoughtful. Kate was complicated.

Renesmee seemed to understand more than any of us wanted her to.

Bella did not leave her side for long.

Leah did not leave Harry and Nancy's.

And I had somehow become the person everyone asked when they wanted to know whether the vampire in the corner was friendly, gifted, dangerous, or all three.

Which was how Leah found me in the kitchen with a notepad, two pencils, and the expression of a man who had made several poor life choices and was being punished with organization.

"I need a list," she said.

I looked down at the notepad. "That is concerning, because I thought this was already a list."

"That is a disaster with names on it."

"Harsh."

"Accurate." She took one of the pencils from my hand. "I need who is here, who they belong to, what weird thing they can do, and whether I need to worry about it near my children."

"Most of them are very polite."

"Thomas."

"Some of them are very polite."

"Thomas."

"One of them can make you see an entire jungle instead of the living room."

Leah stared at me.

I pointed the pencil at the page. "That one you already know."

Her eyes narrowed. "Zafrina."

"Yes."

"I remember Zafrina."

"I thought you might."

Leah wrote Zafrina's name down with more pressure than necessary. "I also remember that she thinks showing people impossible things is a friendly greeting."

"In her defense, Renesmee likes her."

"Renesmee is not my child."

"Bella was there."

"Bella is still learning how not to break furniture when she turns too fast."

That was fair.

I decided not to defend the furniture.

Leah tapped the pencil against the page. "Start from the top."

"All right. Irish coven. Siobhan, Liam, Maggie."

"Maggie is the truth one."

"Lie detector," I said. "Yes."

Leah wrote that down. "Useful."

"Terrifying, but useful."

"Same thing right now."

I could not argue with that.

"Siobhan might have a gift," I said. "Carlisle thinks she does."

Leah's pencil stopped. "Carlisle thinks."

"Yes."

"Does Siobhan think she does?"

"No."

"Does anyone actually know?"

"Not exactly."

Leah stared at me.

I lifted one shoulder. "Carlisle thinks she can influence outcomes. Maybe. If she wants something badly enough."

"That sounds fake."

"It does."

"Is it?"

"Carlisle does not think so."

"That is slightly more comforting than Edward thinking so, but still not comforting enough."

She wrote: Siobhan — maybe wins by being stubborn.

I looked at the page.

"That is not exactly what I said."

"It is exactly what I heard."

Fair.

"Liam?" she asked.

"No known gift."

She wrote no known gift, then paused. "He stays close to Siobhan."

"Yes."

"Protective?"

"Very."

She added: protective. Watch tone.

"That seems unnecessary."

"That man has looked insulted since he walked in."

"He is Irish."

Leah looked at me.

I looked back.

She moved on.

"Denali," she said.

"Tanya, Kate, Carmen, Eleazar."

Leah's face changed a little at Kate's name.

Not anger.

Memory.

Kate had sat down when Harry told her to. That apparently earned her one thin thread of Leah's tolerance.

"Kate is the electric one," Leah said.

"Yes. Anyone who touches her when she uses it gets shocked."

"How badly?"

"Badly enough that if we win all this, I will give her a smile, not a high five."

Leah looked up.

I looked down at the list.

"Probably."

She wrote: Kate — electric. Do not let kids touch.

"Carmen?" she asked.

"No known gift. Kind. Calm. Good with Renesmee."

Leah wrote: Carmen — safe-ish.

"I feel like she deserves better than safe-ish."

"She can earn better than safe-ish after we survive the murder kings."

Again, I could not argue.

"Eleazar," I said. "He senses gifts. Identifies them. That is how he figured out Bella."

Leah's mouth tightened. "And nobody noticed before him?"

"Aro noticed something. Edward suspected pieces. Bella was too busy becoming a vampire, having a daughter, and being hunted by the Volturi to schedule a gift evaluation."

Leah wrote: Eleazar — gift reader. Useful. Bad timing.

"That last part is not his gift."

"It is his current status."

"Tanya?" she asked.

"No known gift."

Leah wrote it down, then tapped the pencil twice beside Kate's name. "Kate still wants to save Irina."

"Yes."

"She should."

I looked at her.

Leah did not soften. "Irina was wrong. She may have killed us. But if one of ours made that mistake, I would still want them dragged home alive long enough to answer for it."

That was one of the things about Leah people missed if they only heard the sharp edges.

She could be merciless and loyal at the same time.

Usually in the same sentence.

"Egyptian coven," I said. "Amun, Kebi, Benjamin, Tia."

Leah's eyebrows rose. "The nervous one?"

"Amun."

"The one who looks like he wants to put Benjamin in a box and hide under it?"

"That would also be Amun."

Leah wrote: Amun — paranoid. Protects Benjamin. May bolt.

"That is rude."

"Is it wrong?"

"No."

"Then it stays."

"Kebi has no known gift," I said. "Tia either. Benjamin is the important one."

Leah looked up. "Define important."

"Controls elements."

Her pencil stopped.

"Elements," she repeated.

"Earth. Air. Fire. Water."

Leah stared at me for a long moment.

Then she wrote: Benjamin — absolutely worry.

"Helpful," I said.

"I am being very helpful."

"You underlined absolutely three times."

"I showed restraint."

I decided not to ask what restraint looked like without witnesses.

"Amazons," I said.

Leah's pencil paused again, but this time for a different reason.

"Zafrina and Senna," she said.

"Yes."

"I know them."

"I remember."

Her mouth twisted slightly. "That was supposed to be a honeymoon."

"It was memorable."

"That is not the same thing."

No. It was not.

"Zafrina has the visual illusion gift," I said. "Very real. Very convincing. Very bad if someone panics."

"Or if someone thinks dropping a jungle into a room is a social skill."

"She means well."

"So do toddlers with scissors."

I wisely let that pass.

Leah wrote: Zafrina — illusions. Ask before showing children anything.

Then she added: Again.

I pretended not to see it.

"Senna?" she asked.

"No known gift."

Leah wrote: Senna — quiet. Still scary.

"That is not a gift."

"It is a category."

"Apparently we have a lot of categories."

"We need more paper."

I slid the second sheet toward her.

She took it without thanking me, which felt fair.

"Nomads," I said. "Garrett, Mary, Randall, Peter, Charlotte, Alistair."

"That is too many names."

"It is actually fewer than it could be."

"Not helpful."

"Garrett has no known gift, but he seems very interested in Kate."

Leah gave me a flat look. "Does that affect my children?"

"Probably not."

"Then I do not care."

I crossed out my note.

"Mary and Randall, no known gifts," I said. "Peter and Charlotte, no known gifts. Alistair is a tracker."

Leah wrote: Alistair — tracker. Moody. Stares at exits.

"That is oddly specific."

"He stares at exits."

"He does."

"And he is moody."

"He is."

She set the pencil down.

For a moment, neither of us spoke.

The house was too full. Too quiet in the wrong places. Too loud in others. Vampires had gathered in every room, each one another piece of proof, another set of eyes that might stand between the children and death.

Outside, something hit the frozen ground hard enough to make the kitchen window tremble.

Leah did not flinch.

I did.

She looked at me.

"Bella," she said.

"Probably."

Another thud followed.

Then Emmett laughed.

Definitely Bella.

Leah glanced toward the back of the house. "How is that going?"

"Better than the trees would like."

"She learning?"

"Fast." I leaned back against the counter. "Too fast, according to Emmett. Not fast enough, according to Bella."

Leah's expression shifted.

She knew that kind of anger.

The kind that made learning feel too slow because the people you loved were already standing in the path of whatever was coming.

"She fights like a newborn," I said. "But she thinks like Bella. That is confusing everyone."

"Good."

"You and Kate agree on that."

Leah's eyebrows lifted. "That is a terrifying sentence."

The back door opened before I could answer.

Jacob stepped inside, bringing cold air, wet earth, and the reservation with him.

He looked tired.

Not physically. Wolves did not get tired the way other people did. Not quickly. Not from running.

This was different.

Leah saw it before I did.

"What happened?" she asked.

Jacob shut the door behind him.

His eyes moved once toward the living room, where too many vampires could probably hear every word anyway.

Then back to Leah.

"Two more confirmed."

The kitchen went still.

Leah's pencil rolled off the notepad and hit the floor.

Neither of us picked it up.

"Names?" she asked.

Jacob shook his head once. "Not here."

Good.

That was probably the only privacy he could give them.

"How young?" Leah asked.

Jacob's mouth tightened.

Too young, then.

The answer was in his face before he said anything.

"Old enough to phase," he said.

Leah's eyes hardened. "That is not what I asked."

"I know."

For a moment, they only looked at each other.

Pack things moved under the silence. Grief. Anger. Duty. The terrible math of children becoming weapons because monsters had gathered too close to home.

I hated understanding even part of it.

Jacob leaned back against the door. "Sam says the count is still moving. Two confirmed today. More showing signs."

Leah looked toward the window.

Toward the forest.

Toward the house full of vampires.

"As long as this many stay this close," she said.

Jacob nodded. "Yeah."

No one had to finish it.

The blood would keep answering.

The tribe would keep changing.

More kids would wake up with fever and anger and bones that no longer knew how to stay human. More families would get explanations that were not explanations. More children would be pulled into a war old enough to have forgotten mercy.

Leah bent and picked up the pencil.

Her hand was steady when she wrote at the bottom of the page:

Two more wolves.

Then, after a pause, she added:

More coming if vampires stay.

Jacob looked at the list. "That supposed to help?"

"No," Leah said. "It is supposed to keep me from screaming."

Jacob nodded once. "Let me know if it works."

"It does not."

"Good to know."

Another crash came from outside.

This one was followed by Emmett saying, "That one was better!"

Bella answered too quietly for me to catch.

Edward did not.

That meant he was either proud, worried, or both.

Probably both.

Jacob looked toward the sound. "She still training?"

"Apparently the forest owed her money," I said.

Leah set the pencil down again. "She needs it."

Jacob's face tightened, but he nodded.

"She needs more than that," Leah added.

I looked at her.

She did not look away from the window. "Learning how to hit someone is one thing. Learning how to stand there while every instinct says cover your kid and run is another."

Jacob's voice lowered. "Bella does not run."

"No," Leah said. "She throws herself in front of things."

That was also true.

Outside, the training stopped.

The sudden absence of impact made the whole house seem louder.

A moment later, Bella came into view through the kitchen window, walking beside Edward. Her clothes were torn at one shoulder. Her hair had leaves in it. She looked furious, focused, and entirely too pleased for someone who had probably been thrown into at least one tree.

Kate stood near the edge of the yard, watching.

Not smiling.

Not mocking.

Watching.

Bella said something to Edward, then turned as Kate approached.

Leah's eyes narrowed.

Jacob muttered, "This should be good."

I opened the back door before either of them could decide to listen from inside like civilized people.

Civilized people were overrated.

Cold air rushed in again.

Kate stopped a few feet from Bella.

"You are improving," she said.

Bella looked at her warily. "Thank you?"

"That was not praise."

Emmett laughed from somewhere beyond the trees. "I like her."

Kate ignored him. "Your body is learning. That is useful. But it will not be enough."

Edward's expression sharpened.

Bella did not move. "Eleazar told you something."

"Eleazar told all of us something," Kate said. "You are a shield."

Bella's jaw tightened.

The word still looked new on her.

Kate's voice changed. Not softer exactly. More careful. "If that shield can move, you need to learn how to move it. If it can stretch, you need to know how far. If it breaks when you are afraid, you need to find that out before Jane or Alec teaches you."

Edward went very still.

Bella's eyes flashed at the names.

Kate held her ground. "You are learning to fight with your body. Let me help you train the part of you the Volturi will actually fear."

The yard went quiet.

Even Emmett stopped laughing.

Bella studied Kate for a long moment.

"You want to help me?"

Kate's mouth tightened. "I want the children alive. I want my sister alive if that is still possible. I want the Volturi to regret using her grief as a weapon." Her eyes moved briefly toward the house, toward where Harry, Nancy, and Renesmee were somewhere behind too many walls and too many witnesses. "And I owe them better than what they saw from me."

Bella's expression changed.

Not forgiveness.

Not trust.

Something closer to recognition.

Kate lifted one hand slowly, palm out.

No sparks.

No threat.

"My gift is not Jane's," she said. "But it is something to push against."

Bella looked at the offered hand.

Edward did not speak.

That mattered.

This had to be Bella's choice.

After a moment, Bella stepped forward.

She did not take Kate's hand yet.

But she stepped closer.

"Not near the children," Bella said.

Kate nodded once. "Never."

"And if I say stop?"

"I stop."

Bella looked at Edward.

Then at the house.

Then back at Kate.

"All right," she said.

Leah exhaled beside me.

Jacob leaned closer and muttered, "So we're adding vampire shock therapy to the schedule."

Leah picked up the notepad and wrote without looking down.

Bella — shield practice with Kate. Away from kids.

Then she underlined away from kids twice.

I looked at the page.

"At least the list is helping."

Leah stared out at Bella and Kate standing in the frozen yard, two women who had every reason to be angry and no time to waste it in the wrong direction.

"Maybe," she said.

Then she added one more line.

Everyone trains.

No exceptions.