Stephenie Meyer owns all things Twilight.

Prologue

Jasper

I heard Peter shift uncomfortably behind me in the darkness as I stared at the water.

"Alright then. I'll go in first and provide a distraction. The rest of you, wait five minutes and then come in from the roof. Get the hostages out. Be smart and stay safe."

I turned and met the eyes of the four vampires behind me. They were all afraid. And, if I was totally honest with myself, so was I.

We were all veterans of the type of fight we were facing, and we all knew how easily this night could turn into the last night on earth for any of us. Or all of us.

I could feel the icy tendrils of their fear. Fortunately, fear was an old enemy of mine. I brushed the cold aside, and sent warm waves of hopefulness to each of my friends. When their fears were quieted, I turned back to the black water.

Only an instant before I sprang into the river, a hand lightly grasped my wrist. I paused.

"No, Jasper. It should be me." She put up a hand before I could protest. "I know that house and I know the vampires in it. You don't; that puts you at a disadvantage. I should be the one to go in first."

I sighed. We didn't have time for heroics. Heroics could get us killed. "That's just foolishness. I'm a much better fighter, and you've described the house and all the newborns you know about. And if we're looking for a distraction, nothing will distract her more than seeing me standing in her living room."

"I'm sure that's true. But it still should be me."

She paused, and I could feel her waiver between telling the truth and trying to lie. She decided on the truth.

"Listen, we all know that whoever goes in as a distraction is as likely as not to come out again. The newborns will attack the closest target and rip it apart. You are a better fighter, but if we're talking about 10, 12 newborns, what difference does that make? Those two are my responsibility. They could be killed because of me. I led them away from here, and in my stupidity, I led them back. I owe them. It has to be me."

She stuffed her hands into her jeans pockets and sighed deeply before continuing. "Besides … Jasper, there's no one to miss me if … well, if I don't make it out."

Her eyes flickered to mine briefly before looking up river.

Alice.

The name hung between us, without either of us saying a word. The silence was broken by the call of a nighthawk.

Her voice dropped to a whisper as she turned back to me, never raising her eyes to meet mine.

"She's seen this moment Jasper. She may be watching us right now. And she's begging you to let me go in first. Please, Jasper. It's the right thing for all of us. I can do this."

She turned away again before continuing. "And if it's humanly or inhumanly possible, I swear to you I'll get out!"

My head snapped up, and I really looked at this girl standing next to me. Her confidence was staggering, overwhelming, but I'd felt that same confidence from hundreds of newborns who never saw another battle.

What I'd never felt from any of those newborns was love.

There was love for her coven, obviously; it was natural for her to love the family she had only so recently found. But behind that there was more; I realized with a start that there was also love for my family … for Alice and for me. She was willing to take the most dangerous task on herself to make sure I went home to Alice.

I remembered Carlisle's words; that, sometimes, families are made in the most unusual ways and in the most unusual places. Although he was referring to this girl and the two children that followed her, his words were equally true now.

I loved this girl.

I loved her because she loved my Alice.

I loved her because she had become something to me that I had never hoped to have.

In that moment, I understood the complexity of Edward's feelings for Renesmee. Because in that same moment, I also knew I would let her go.

Smiling, I gently took her by the shoulders and turned her towards me. I tilted her head up. She met my eyes, but her expression was vacant. I would let her go, but she would know that she was part of my family before she stepped into that water.

"You know, your eyes are completely golden now." I said softly.

She smiled in response, but her eyes stayed carefully blank. Her emotions, however, were tinged with a hopefulness that I recognized from a long time ago in a diner in Philadelphia.

"They're as beautiful as you hoped they would be, darlin'." I leaned down and kissed her cheek. And, suddenly, she understood. Her eyes sparkled in the darkness. "Make sure you get out, darlin', because I really don't know what I'll do if you don't."

"I will. I promise. I'll get out." An instant later, she disappeared into the water and was gone.