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.