Defective - Jacob Black {1}

Chapter 55: Accusations

There was no perfect way to describe it, to describe what our lives had become in the last three months.

All of us, wolves and vampires, were completely entwined in one another's lives. Renesmee and I had joined the families in ways I had never thought were possible. Boundaries, though slight and less strict, were still enforced - the Cullens could not cross over onto Quileute lands - but the Cullens took no offence to it. It was just the atmosphere between the two groups had completely relaxed.

A mere week after Jake and I's reunion with our family and friends, Quil and Embry took it upon themselves to join Jacob's pack. Gratefully, Sam wasn't even against the change. They were Jacob's best friends, it made sense for them all to be together.

Sue had also seemed to have taken it upon herself to smooth Uncle Charlie's transition into the world of make-believe. She came with him to the Cullens' most days, though she never seemed truly comfortable here the way her son and daughter and the rest of Jake's pack did. She did not speak often; she just hovered protectively near Uncle Charlie. She was always the first person he looked to when Renesmee did something disturbingly advanced - which was often.

Renesmee spoke her first word when she was exactly one week old. The word was Momma. It was hard to react joyously, we smiled stiffly at her, trying to keep the happy atmosphere flowing and to not upset Renesmee. It didn't help that she continued from her first word to her first sentence in the same breath. "Momma, where is Grandpa?" she'd asked in a clear, high voice, only bothering to speak aloud because Bella was across the room from her. She'd already asked Rosalie, using her normal means of touch communication. Rosalie hadn't known the answer, so Renesmee had turned to Bella.

When she walked for the first time, fewer than three weeks later, it was similar. She'd simply stared at Alice for a long moment, watching intently as her aunt arranged bouquets in the vases scattered around the room, dancing back and forth across the floor with her arms full of flowers. Renesmee got to her feet, not in the least bit shaky, and crossed the floor almost as gracefully.

Seth had burst into applause, because that was clearly the response Renesmee wanted. The way he was tied to her made his own reactions secondary; his first reflex was always to give Renesmee whatever she needed. But our eyes met, and I saw all the panic in mine echoed in his. I made my hands clap together, too, trying to hide my fear from her. The rest of the family applauded quietly as well, and we didn't need to speak our thoughts to know they were the same.

Edward and Carlisle threw themselves into research, looking for any answers, anything to expect. There was very little to be found, and none of it verifiable.

Alice and Rosalie usually began everyone's day with a fashion show. Renesmee never wore the same clothes twice, (quite like myself when I was staying here at the Cullens') partly because she outgrew her clothes almost immediately and partly because Alice and Rosalie were trying to create a baby album that appeared to span years rather than weeks. They took thousands of pictures, documenting every phase of her accelerated childhood.

At three months, Renesmee could have been a big one-year-old, or a small two-year-old. She wasn't shaped exactly like a toddler; she was leaner and more graceful, her proportions were more even, like an adult's. Her bronze ringlets hung to her waist; we couldn't bring ourselves to cut them. Renesmee could speak with flawless grammar and articulation, but she rarely bothered, preferring to simply show people what she wanted. She could not only walk but run and dance. She could even read.

By Carlisle's calculations, the growth of her body was gradually slowing; her mind continued to race on ahead. Even if the rate of decrease held steady, she'd still be an adult in no more than four years.