As Renesmee's breaths settled, Edward pondered all the questions he had suppressed. The doubts and fears that lingered in the back of his mind each time Renesmee left the house. His daughter, young and naïve, was attracted to possibly one of the most dangerous immortal beings the Cullen family had ever come across and, despite everyone knowing what he was capable of, she always pleaded that they treat him kindly. Him—whose looks were shifty even in her first memory and his motives unknown. The way he carried himself spoke of power, but also of youthful arrogance. Not to mention his arrival coincided with most of the problems they encountered over the past few weeks. Even knowing this, Renesmee still wanted his attention and his friendship.

Why had he let this continue for so long? It was well known that she was the only one still growing up, forming her own opinions about people and the world without subliminal advice from Bella or the rest of the family. He missed the time when his little girl relied on him to satiate her curiosity. Now she was older, trying to act her age and find her own answers. But how she sought them would have given him gray hairs. Trapped in his thoughts, he only looked up when Bella stroked his cheek, her lips quirking in the corner.

"It's not often that I find you lost in thought," she began. "You didn't notice when you entered the house."

"Where did we go wrong?" he asked instead. "He's dangerous and she can't seem to see it."

"It's exactly what she told you," Bella smiled. "You haven't been the only one thinking. She's just like I was with you. And in a way, Nico is just a little like you."

"Bella,"

"No, let me finish. These past few days have been a whirlwind for all of us, but she was not lying when she said that Nico has been trying to look out for her, despite our behavior."

"I don't want her in danger. No one wants that."

"But we are suffocating her, Edward."

"If it's for her best interest, it should not matter," he countered.

"When I first met you, you were just as beautiful and puzzling as you found me. The exact same way she finds that boy, she gets it from me. We like a challenge, even if the challenge wants nothing to do with us, but we find it endearing.

I can't speak to Renesmee's feelings for Nico, I'd imagine she likes him because he looks her for my wellbeing and doesn't expect anything in return. He's nice to her, even if he could be a little more…polite. And for once, it is someone her age who can relate to some of her life experiences. We only know a few hybrids: our daughter, Nahuel, and his sisters. Learning that there are more like her is exciting, Edward, and Nico and his sister gave her hope that she can have more relationships that aren't her family. She's a teenager. She's never had real friends before."

"She has her friends at school. She has Jacob and his pack," it was a weak argument and he knew it. Bella knew it too and it showed in the way her eyes flashed.

"And she's known Jacob since she was born. He's still someone who has seen her diapers. And mortal friends can't talk about half the thing we experience," she squeezed his hand. "Think of this as a positive experience for her."

"Bella, I know. I can read her mind," he understood her point, but that did nothing to calm the maelstrom of thoughts in his mind. "But she's still our daughter. She's our first and our only. We're going to overreact and be more cautious about who she wants in her life and who she falls in love with. Especially when she has a crush on a random vampire that none of us have met from a coven none of us have heard of."

"We could always ask him about his original coven. When he comes back," she frowned. "Although that might be awhile."

"That's another concern. If she plans to keep communicating with him, then the least we can do is learn more about the hidden community he's from. Carlisle and Jasper have found nothing about a coven in California or New York. Then there's the issue of his work. I don't know of any coven other than the Volturi that sends other vampires to do their dirty work."

"You think he's part of the Volturi?" Bella asked. "But they have rules…"

"The Volturi always want to add powerful vampires to their side and they wouldn't mind taking a hybrid as powerful as Nico. With his control of shadows and teleportation, and the ability to walk in broad daylight, he would be an asset to their ranks. Not to mention, he's young and not a full vampire. He could be impressionable."

"Have you told Carlisle about this?"

"He's aware," he nodded and heard shuffling in the main house. "Come, Leah's fully awake now."

The run to the house was short but passing the rotten and dead patchwork formerly known as Esme's landscaping made Edward freeze. This was only a side effect of Nico's trick and what the young man could be hiding up his sleeve scared him more. He would dwell on it more when they talked in the house, but he knew in his heart, this was not someone he wanted Renesmee to have interest in.

Leah was seated on the white couch in the living room, a blanket draped across her shoulders and a mug of Earl Grey in her hands. Seth sat next to her, fretting about her needs and if she was warm enough or needed something else. Jacob was perched protectively behind her, his thoughts ruminating on his guilt over what caused her coma in the first place. The Cullens were spread across the room as Bella and Edward entered and a discomforting silence settled on the group.

"Why didn't you tell us you thought he was part of the Volturi?" Jacob growled.

"We don't have any proof," Carlisle cautioned.

"But it would fit everything we know about him," Jasper threw some papers on to the table. "I managed to get a copy of the records he left in the office. Someone has obviously altered them."

The pages presented typical information including his full name, his transcript, immunization records and immigrant status. Edward frowned when he saw that the boy was originally from Italy, putting his Volturi theory to the test.

"Jasper, these look real. There's nothing wrong," Rosalie pursed her lips. "Wait," and she grasped the lamp next to her and moved it over the table. Slowly the pages morphed to present newspaper headlines and random flyers. As she pulled the light back, the pages shifted back into the records.

"That is strong perceptional manipulation," Carlisle remarked. He picked up the pages and began to examine them himself, watching the seamless transition between real and fake. "There is no one in the Volturi with abilities like this."

"There was no one in the Volturi with electrical arrows either," Emmett huffed.

"So, what does this mean for us?" Seth asked. "He said his job was to find other vampires, but that doesn't explain why he's going to the school."

"If he is undercover, he still is a teen. It would be strange if other people caught him wandering around such a small-town during school hours without anyone noticing," Esme asserted.

"Why are we even discussing this? He's a threat to us, regardless of whether he's working with the Volturi or not," Jacob seethed.

"Jake, he came to us with true information—"

"And nothing," Leah's hoarse voice croaked from the couch. She sipped her tea to soothe her aching throat. "He's too dangerous to stay. Either you get rid of him or we will. The things I saw—"

She shuddered. In her mind, Edward could see fields of gray. Everything was dull, from the textures to the colors and the sounds. People who had no notice of the way they moved, unnatural and untethered to reality. He could feel the despair that she choked on when she realized where she was—in a field of dead men and women and children.

"I woke in a field and it was cold. There was no sky, only darkness. And all I knew was that if I kept walking, I would be able to find my way to where I needed to go, but I had no clue where that was. With every step, my strength was ebbing away from me and all I wanted to do was" her lips wobbled over her next words.

"Leah, you don't have to say anything," Seth interjected.

"Stop babying me, "Leah snapped, if only to mask her own fear. "The worst part was that I wasn't alone. There were others. Some had no memory and the ones who were lucid could only ask if I could show them their families. That they should be together because they were dead! What matters is that those things in that place weren't sane.

"And if that is what happens to every person that comes across him than he has no place here. Think of the danger he poses to both packs and the rest of the town. You can't trust him."

Silence fell upon them for only a moment, tension high before Carlisle nodded.

"I respect that this is difficult for you. I will not insist that you stay if he comes around and I will not argue about the decisions your packs will make. Unfortunately, I must ask you all to consider that he may be the only one that can cure Sam Uley."

"But he could have shot Sam!" Jake yelled.

"We have no other options if we want to save him. I tested his dagger and his blood. Unlike Renesmee or the other shifters, he only has 23 chromosomes in total."

"That's not possible," Edward's brow furrowed.

"Originally, I also believe I was wrong. But I ran the test again and found the result the same. I believe he lacks genetic material from his father, but I wonder if his mother is fully human. According to physiology, humans have 23 pairs and both shifters and hybrids have 24. But this boy lacks half as much, which could represent a difference in the evolutional chain of hybridization.

"Moreover, it explains his impressive power set. His dagger must be attuned to his abilities, which eats away at organic material. If Sam is experiencing the same thing, then Nico is required to wake him as he did you," Carlisle summarized.

"If he is that powerful, then why does he need weapons?" Rosalie narrowed her eyes.

"I have a very different theory for Renesmee's new friend. As we saw in her memories, Nico can move in and out of pockets of space using the shadows. This glamour, for the lack of a better description, is meant to hide his identity. His sister admitted that their covens prefer to be separate from the outside world for their own protection. It could be possible that they are hiding from the Volturi."

"Carlisle, why would they hide if they have hybrids like him in their ranks?" Emmett snorted.

"Because they're fragile," Edward interrupted. "Nico's fast, clever, and powerful, but not physically."

"Exactly," Carlisle smiled. "I think Nico's hybrids realized, that while they are very alike to vampires, they do not possess the same strength or speed, so they created weapons that amplify their abilities to affect even a well-fed vampire. It would explain why a group so young would be in hiding together."

"If that was the case, then why did any of them venture into Forks?"

"Classic revenge," Alice muttered. "He mentioned tracking, which means the other group had passed through their area and they didn't appreciate it much. Whoever came first was not truly prepared for wolves, so they sent someone who was—if the Volturi have not heard of this group because they are hidden, then we have to help him."

Flashes of black coats and boots marching across snow flickered into Edward's mind and he turned to look at his adoptive sister.

"Alice, when are the Volturi coming?" As she opened her mouth to speak, there was a piercing scream, the high pitch of a young girl echoing across the town of Forks, and then nothing.

"Renesmee!" Edward left the room, a host of other vampires and Jake leaving with him. The last he heard from the house was Leah's ominous call.

"I told you he couldn't be trusted. Monsters like him you only kill."

For a moment, only the tiniest sliver of eternity, time slowed down. And in its current molasses-paced state, all Nico could feel was complete and utter agony. He had not felt that way at first; the bite was a mere nuisance accompanied by minimal throbbing. But, after the vampire fell back, the wound began to blaze until his arm was engulfed in a raging inferno and the excruciating pain made it almost impossible to think. It felt as though he was being stripped down to the wire, his veins exposed and receptive to the pain now coursing through his body. Henry's memories did little justice compared to the actual experience. Perspiration gathered on his face, even as he felt Renesmee's cool hands touch his. His sight was slightly blurry, his blood was boiling, and all his operating systems wanted to shut down and he reacted.

Nico fell out of the shadows onto his hands and knees on a rough patch of grass, a shaking Renesmee by his side. He tilted his chin toward her face, eyes watering and lips twisting in distress. Her pink mouth moved, but he could not hear a single sound over the ringing in his ears. He squinted up at her pretty face, his eyes beginning to drift close if only for a little while—

"N—o, ge—c'mon you—GET UP," she screamed, but her words fell on deaf ears. The young woman scrambled to turn Nico onto his back. "I don't know where we are, so you have to tell me where to go. You can't leave me."

Renesmee watched in stunned disbelief as Nico's head lolled on her lap. His skin was too clammy, sweat overtaking his deathly pallor. She needed to get him help, but where. Before she could ponder her options, Nico gasped and coughed wetly, blood dripping down his chin. He bucked in her grasp, back arching as he groaned. Hang on, Nico, she pleaded as she hauled up the limp body and dragged/carried the young man up a hill. There was a stone cottage near the top, door locked. She grasped the doorknob and forced it open, wincing at the squeak of the metal as it gave way.

"Sorry," she whispered as she continued to maneuver Nico's body into the house. The inside was completely dark, but luckily her vision and the sliver of moonlight from the opened door gave her room to examine his prone body as she lowered him to the cool stone floor. She wished she had her grandfather here. He was a professional who could have fixed Nico, without question, and Renesmee had none of the experience. She hurriedly pulled up the sleeve and looked at the wound. The bite was red and inflamed, clear liquid pulsing out with a slow stream of red. His body was already combating the poison, but not quickly enough.

As her heart rate settled, she began to smell it. The heady scent of pomegranate, chocolate, and the promise of a cool winter all assaulted her nostrils. Her jaw subtly throbbed and she ached inside, a part of her that had laid dormant now calling for a fresh meal. She could feel the pull—the pull that her father felt when he saved her mother all those years ago.

For once in her life, Renesmee was genuinely terrified. Her nervousness around the Volturi could not compare to this situation. The worst part was she knew how to help him. But she lacked all the self-control her father had, and she proved time and time again she had her mother's impulsive nature. If anything, she should have been feasting already, reveling in her lust for the blood song radiating from the boy she liked. But he was dying before her eyes, if the steady dribble of blood and his heartbeat were anything to go by. She gripped his arm tightly, the rivers of red racing down to his fingertips in its hurry to stain the couch and her dress. She whimpered and clenched her eyes, hoping it was all a horrible dream.

"Nes...me," she raised her tearstained face. He gave her a weak grin.

"It's al... righ…" her lips quivered as she cried. Here she was, attempting to overcome a moral dilemma and he was comforting her. In every interaction with her, he always knew something to say to tease her, to make her feel better, to protect her even if she wanted none of those things. She owed him this much.

Renesmee leaned down and kissed his forehead. I hope you can forgive me for this. This act was so instinctively intimate, and this would be a betrayal of his trust in her ability to respect his personal space, not that she has over the entire span of time she had known him. But if she did not, he would die. And she would not let him die.

"I don't know if I can control myself, but I want to help. I'm going to save you," she whispered against his ear. And then she leaned down to his wound and pressed her lips to his sweat-slicked skin.

The moment she bit down, the taste exploded in her mouth and she groaned. She had not been allowed to drink blood since she was little and could not curb her own urges, but this put all the blood bag memories to shame. This was a delicacy and she would savor it. The exotic taste danced along her tongue, even tainted with the bitter twang of venom. She could ignore it as she gulped greedily, not noticing the thinning of the venom in his blood. Drinking was blissful.

"Ness, Ness, I'm fine," the words were slurred softly, but he was not better yet. She could make him better if he just let her drink.

"Nessie, you did it."

"Renesmee," she stilled at the ice in his voice, and backed away from his wound. The girl froze as a single pale finger lifted her chin.

"Thank you," he whispered. His voice was rougher than it had sounded when they first met. His skin was clammy, body covered in his own blood, and his hair slick with sweat. And, yet, she found him handsome.

"Nico, I'm so sorry. You were dying and I—"

"You did good," he interrupted, and she started. "If you hadn't have—well," he finished lamely.

There was none of that earlier cockiness. The confidence and snark that infuriated her in the first place. Instead, he seemed softer and a little more vulnerable, as if reminded by his own mortality. And in that moment, she could only swallow, the last taste of blood rushing down her throat and she felt drunk. His eyes, once black, were a warm brown that called to her like a siren song. And she let it.

Renesmee leaned forward and tilted her head just enough for her lips to connect with his chapped ones. His eyes widened as their noses shyly bumped awkwardly and when finally touched, he backed away with an uncharacteristic yelp, gazing at her with a mix of shock and something else she could not comprehend. He visibly shook himself as Renesmee began to fret. Did he not like it? Does he even like her? Was it the fact that she possibly tasted li... like him? Immediately she recoiled in horror, hands flying to her mouth to cover it in shame. Tears began to leak from the corner of her eyes and Nico only watched, mouth slightly gaping and lips rosy from the stain.

"I'm such an idiot," she moaned, her face buried in her hands. "I didn't mean to do that."

"You didn't mean to kiss me?" he asked uncertainly.

"I meant to do that," she admitted and let her eyes peak over the tips of her finger at him. "I didn't mean to do it now like this."

"Like what?"

"Covered in blood mostly," her awkward laugh hitched at the end before she devolved into hysterical tears.

"Are you," his hands hovered strangely over her shoulders. "Are you okay?"

"Just a little overcome by emotion, right now," When she peaked through her hands again, Nico was resolutely looking anywhere but at her. This was it. She had irrevocably changed their current relationship paradigm. He couldn't even bear to look at her.

"Do you need,"

"Will you stop asking me questions!" She cried out. "You can just say that you didn't want me to kiss you. Instead of not looking at me like I'm Medusa or something."

Nico did a double take. "No, I'm not. I'm just," he gestured at her person. "Not good with women things."

"And crying is a woman thing?" she said weakly. Nico sighed and shuffled a little closer, opening his arms a little. "What's this? You're going to comfort me."

"If Hazel has taught me anything, when a girl cries, you should offer a hug, romantic comedies, and ice cream. Since we don't have ice cream or movies, the hug is the best you're going to get," he said it despairingly, as if he would have never done it if it had not been trained into him. Renesmee giggled a little at his reluctance, before tucking herself into his lap and settling her head against his throat. She listened to the sluggish pulse of his heart and let her tears fall. His arms settled around her arms and they sat there together on the cool floor of the empty house.

"Are you done now?" he asked after a few minutes.

"Just a little longer," Nico huffed.

"I need to eat if I'm going to take you home. I can't waste too much time or else I'll lose any leads."

"Where do you think we are?" Renesmee wanted to delay the inevitable. She was spoiled, and greedy, and she was going to take advantage of this moment.

"I don't know, doll face," he yawned. She glanced just to see his eyes falling closed, head bending a little more. He was still a kid like her, she supposed. If anything, they deserved the rest.

"It's okay," she said easily. "I'm tired too." And she turned into his embrace just a little more, settling herself down to become immovable. Then they lay together as the night started bleeding into day, the only sounds coming from the bugs outside and the simultaneous pounding of their hearts.

Renesmee was in a room. The walls and floor were dark, and a single light lit the entire room. There was a young boy, sitting on the edge of the bed. His hair was long and curly, his skin pasty. He was painfully thin and the bags beneath his big eyes meant he had many sleepless nights as well. Beside him was someone older, whose warmth even Renesmee could feel. He had shaggy blonde hair, freckle, and he was tall and lanky. The other boy looked upset, his eyes reflecting betrayal as he stared at the brunette.

"Will, please. Say something," the younger boy pleaded.

"What do you want me to say? You lied to me," Will sighed.

"I didn't lie," the boy snapped, defensive. "I just avoided the truth a little."

"A little," Will pressed. "You lied to me for weeks. You went missing and came back with Jason, and all you can say is that you 'lied a little'."

"He's my friend. I wasn't going to—"

"He died Nico! Look, I'm not mad that you wanted to bring him back. I'm mad that you didn't trust me enough to tell me."

She was taken aback. This was Nico? How long ago was this memory? Renesmee wondered how he had changed from this to the man she knew. He sounded so young. This must have been his home a few years ago.

Nico had the shame to look down at his feet. "I do trust you. I just knew you would be mad."

"I think I know why too. Tell me how you did it. I know the doors are closed," Will crossed his arms.

"I didn't have a choice," Nico bit his lip, his fingers twisting awkwardly around each other. His hands were covered in dirt and bandages. "I traded something to make sure his soul couldn't pass."

"Nico,"

"It just wasn't fair. He shouldn't have died."

"Nico," Will reached out and grabbed the boy's hand, his tanned fingers holding tight as if to give Nico the strength to say what he wasn't. They held such familiarity with one another, something Renesmee had only seen with Hazel.

"Please don't hate me," Nico's voice was barely a whisper. "I don't want you to leave me over this."

"You're hurting. I'm right here," Will said. "I'm right here."

"The deal was a life for a life," Renesmee gasped. He was possibly the equivalent of thirteen or fourteen, not yet reaching puberty. And yet he admitted to taking a life just to save a friend. She watched in horror as Will let go of Nico's hands and walked to the door.

"Will, please," Nico called out. Will turned to him, face sad. "I can explain. Just please."

"Who was it?"

"I can't"

"Whose life did you trade for Jason's?" Will asked again.

"I can't tell you," Nico dropped from the bed. "It doesn't matter. Jason's back and we can just forget about it."

"I can't, Nico. I can't forget about this," Will shook his head. "I'm sorry." Then he marched away, the door to the little cabin slamming shut behind him. Nico collapsed to the floor, like a puppet whose strings had been cut, and sobbed. And then Renesmee was launched from the memory into sweeter dreams.

There was a pool of blood, one that smelt of sulfur and overripe pomegranate, lingering in the lowlight of a streetlamp. A piece of pink wool was dampened with it, souring a previously comforting scent. There was no doubt who was here before. Nico and Renesmee had disappeared into the night.

Seth cringed as he listened to Jacob's anguished howls. Leah was on her way to the reservation, and she would speak with Jared about what to do when the Nico came back to town. Seth didn't have much faith in the guy, at least none that Carlisle had hoped to inspire with his earlier speech. He put his sister in a coma and gave her enough nightmare fuel to last a decade. And, of course, he had taken Renesmee again. If he was working for the Volturi, then they would have her and they could use her to bring the Cullens to heel. That's all they ever wanted since the coven had amassed support to defend their case against Irina's claims.

"We'll find her," Jake startled him from his thoughts.

"How? They could be anywhere on any continent," Seth said. "Her scent trail ends here."

"Then we'll find a way to pick it back up again," the alpha growled and his beta stepped back a bit.

"It's fine. Renesmee's tough. She'll be okay," Seth warned. Jacob shifted back and swiped the pants Seth had clutched in his hand.

"She's alone with the son of a bitch who hurt Leah." He could only nod. Losing one's imprint was the worst feeling in the world. To know that you had failed in your promise to protect them. In the legends, losing an imprint could drive a wolf to instability, forever feeling empty as if they were missing a part of their soul. The pain magnified when you had a bond with your imprint, and Jacob had been around Nessie since her birth.

It was a matter that Seth never really had to think about. He had spent less than a full hour in the presence of his imprint. She had come and gone into his life as quick of the wind, popping in and out of the shadows that seemed to follow her brother. But where Nico left him feeling unwell, Hazel felt like sunshine. The moment he laid eyes on her, he saw his future. The pair of them sitting in a meadow as she placed a flower crown on his head and some kind of animal settled on her shoulder.

But they had not bonded. And there were many factors that would complicate their relationship. The largest obstacle was her brother. Both packs already accepted that Renesmee was a part of Jacob's life and one day, she would have to come on to the reservation to spend time with Billy. It was unfair that the family had to be split apart because of Jacob's alliance with the Cullens, and Renesmee always pushed for the father-son relationship to improve. Seth could only hope for the same opportunity. His imprint came from the same camp that put Sam in a coma and threatened the safety of the reservation and his immediate family.

"We should at least call Bella to tell her that Charlie will get involved. Fresh blood," And there was an arm, lying flat and separated from the rest of the body. The shade of skin contrasted with that of Renesmee and Nico's, tanned with the diamond edges protruding. But the rest of the body was nowhere to be seen.

"And what about the arm? If they were attacked, then the bastard who did it could still be out there," Jacob protested. "Just because we work with the Cullens doesn't mean we have to consult them on everything we do."

"And we don't," Seth assured. "But this isn't about them. It's about possible human casualties, and that involves the Forks Police."

Jacob grumbled below his breath as Seth pulled out his phone.

"Yeah, so there might be another problem," he started, wincing as thunder rumbled. "An arm was left behind, but other than that, there is no sign of where Renesmee could have gone. No, just thought you should know. We can bring the arm to the house. Just you might want to warn Charlie before he gets here."

Renesmee's missing.

The sky cried, a torrential downpour glowing from the heavens to drown small-town roads. Charlie was not a religious man by nature, but it seemed the storm was doing its utmost to clean up the crime scene. As it were, the small traces of blood were being swept down the drain, but fortunately the deputies managed to collect a sample, even if slightly diluted. There were signs of a scuffle from the reports of screams from individuals passing the area, but no way to accurately account for the number of persons missing or what had even happened that night.

She's gone.

He was a forgiving man by nature. He forgave the boy that almost hit Bella on their way from high school. He forgave her ex-boyfriend for breaking his daughter's heart. He forgave all the lies and secrecy that shrouded Bella's short disappearance from the public eye, and most of all, he forgave their collective bullshit when he met his granddaughter—though he would never tell his in-laws that. What he could not forgive was the blatant recklessness of this family.

For superior supernatural beings, they happened to be the klutziness group when it came to social norms and communication. To the point that Charlie had quickly moved back to Forks for some quickly reinstated normalcy. But that came with the knowledge that all his close friends were bold-faced liars about vampires and werewolves and other supernatural crap. But there was the implicit promise that only Billy's boy and his crew could protect Renesmee if the Cullens failed, so Charlie swallowed his tongue most of the time and was a silent, if unwanted, observer to the antics of the Quileute and Black packs.

He knew something was off when Bella tried to foist vacation plans into his not-really-busy schedule. Bella and he had an agreement: no uncomfortable conversations. So listening to his daughter try to advertise a nice trip for him and Sue immediately raised his metaphorical hackles, and he paid closer attention to all that was said in the news.

Then Sue decided to divulge about the attack on the La Push Reservation. He remembered how panicked the town had been that Sam Uley had somehow been shot; worse, the bullet was lodged in such a way that required immediate attention at the town hospital. Despite their ban on entering any part of town the Cullens regularly occupied, he could still find most of Sam's friends and fiancé gathered outside the ICU, although a Cullen was in the building. When Charlie had arrived with Sue, Sam's chest wound had stopped bleeding, but the doctors were still frantically working to stabilize him after a sudden cardiac arrest.

The story was all the same, rehearsed and dry in his mouth when he repeated the words.

"We were just going for a run,"

"There was a group of hunters in the trees,"

"A woman shot Sam. I don't know what she looked like."

"We're lucky he's alright,"

Something was missing from all these stories. He could understand that if this was a supernatural attack, then they would keep it under wraps. But the pack had traveled from Forks to Spokane before to save Bella's life. He could handle the truth, but he could not help them with pressing charges if the incident was perpetrated by a human and they were refusing to state the truth. Finally, Jared decided to come forward with some version of the story that seemed closer to the truth, if begrudging because he was persuaded by Sue.

"He's in a medically-induced coma," Jared's voice had been rough at the time as if he was talking around a lump in his throat. "Jake is going to check things with his pack."

"Sam's a strong kid. He'll pull through," Charlie assured, but there was a purpose to this conversation if he could direct it. "You know I understand how you're feeling, but I need to know what happened. Forks can't make press any charges or start an effective investigation if you don't step forward with anything. My deputies tell me you've refused to speak to them about the incident, so tell me. So we can get justice for Sam."

Jared only shook his head. "It was an entourage of pale skin and dark hair. I don't think the Fork's police department is equipped to handle them."

"Pale skins then," Charlie hummed. "Like the Cullens or…"

"I didn't get a clear look at their faces,"

"I've spoken to Jacob about your vision. You can at least give me an outline so I can get a sketch and put out an APB."

"I meant that I didn't see clearly who any of them were. I remember seeing white fur coats and a few dogs in clear detail, but the actual faces are all muddled and fuzzy," he bit out.

"Is that part of your voodoo?" the police chief grumbled, wondering if it was time to invest in those vampire saga novels that were popular when Bella was young.

"No one has the power to change reality or memories."

"Let me know if you think that in the future," Charlie remarked dryly. "When Sam wakes, I'll come back and see if he saw anything. And that reminds me, what happened to the bullet. It wasn't in his body when he arrived at the hospital."

"The doctor said the wound was too close to his heart. If he was anyone else, he would have died." Jared pursed his lips.

"It still would have been better to leave the bullet inside instead of taking it out. Why would you do that?"

"Because it wasn't a bullet. It was an arrow."

For a few days, he all he could do was think about the case. He tried to investigate anyone in Forks or had visited the surrounding areas that fit the vague descriptions provided. But dead ends were quickly hit and there was no help from the Quileute. Allison Uley requested that there not be an investigation, despite her son's current state, and Emily supported the decision. The rest of the pack decided to remain mum on the issue and without official statements, the Forks police department's hands were tied, and they were resorted to turning to other cases when Charlie had been contacted by the Washington State Patrol earlier today.

Two bodies had been found just outside of Kent city limits. Kent was not too far from Forks, less than a few hours away and a close enough drive that anyone could go between the two towns after building the shallow graves. The site had only been found after an anonymous tip had been left, finding the buried graves of a father and son duo that had gone missing a while back. The state of the remains matched a victim profile constructed after a series of random attacks in Oregon. Washington was sending troopers to each county but asked for the situation to remain under wraps. They were confident in their ability to handle the situation without bringing in federal agents. If the situation worsened—there were other steps they would take.

Then he had received the worst news. Someone had filed a noise complaint about the area between the motel and rentable apartments. It was an area that most townspeople avoided. Only visitors and hunters passing through with a need for accommodations during their hunting and fishing trips stayed in the area and the few ruffians that filed through looking to stir trouble. Expecting it to be a slow night and prepped for writing a citation against a drunk citizen, Charlie decided to go investigate himself. On his way, he received a call.

"Dad, something happened tonight. I want you to remain calm, but Renesmee. She's—"

Now, in the heavy rain and cloud cover, he stood at that alley, looking at the last place Renesmee possibly had been. He wondered if the blood was her's or her kidnapper's, secretly hoping for the latter. The town may not know her as such, but she was still his granddaughter. And he loved her.

At least Bella had been upfront with what the Cullens knew in the call. There had been a new arrival, a Nico di Angelo. Dark hair, tall, pale skin—he fit the profile of Sam's attacker. Angelo's sudden appearance in town shortly after the attack had made the Cullens nervous and, despite the amount of time they spent chasing him, he managed to evade their questioning.

He had heard a little about the young man in town. Everyone assumed he was a drifter just passing through. He certainly wasn't a hunter as he carried no gear and looked too young for that group. Instead, he looked like a runaway, decked in dark clothing and refusing to meet anyone's eyes. Marie Jones had been too eager to tell him about the stranger when he had gone to her grill for lunch one day.

"Oh, he was so pale. It was like the boy had never seen the sun before," she had commented. "But he was quiet, kept to himself except to ask for the payphone. I didn't hear who he was talking to, but possibly a close friend from the way his face warmed up at the end. Oh, and he was very polite when he bumped into Renesmee. Paid for her drink and everything. We need more boys with manners like that in town, Charlie."

And the tales about this mysterious young man continued to grow as he was seen out with another young woman and Renesmee in town. The trio had left when Jake and his group came, and some were disappointed that they could not see a fight from their window. At the time Charlie thought little to nothing of it. Renesmee, a beautiful young girl, attracted a lot of attention no matter where she went, which was why her parents were understandably overprotective. And it was not the first time Renesmee had been caught in town with classmates, working on group projects or hanging out like normal kids do. He thought the Cullens and Jake would do enough to protect her. But this is where they are.

Tired, Charlie left his deputies at the scene to mark it up with tape and continue scouring for any clues. The blood samples would be sent to forensics, and they would wait a few days for the information to be processed. He had to go back to the station and file some paperwork before he left for the evening. Then he would check the system for anything they had on the Angelo kid. If his reputation was as wild as it was in Forks, he had to have been dragged in by the authorities at some point.

Compared to the news he received, his drive was relatively calm. The streets were quiet, and people were inside to avoid the heavy rainfall. A direct contrast to the turmoil that was brewing on the other side of reality that most were not privy to and his knuckles tightened on the steering wheel. Charlie cursed as the cruiser skid across the wet pavement as he made a wide turn into the station.

Brenda sat at the receptionist desk, took one look at his drenched uniform, and stepped away to make him a large mug of coffee. She was a young woman, who liked to gossip and was wasting her potential in this small town to take care of her ailing parents. She adopted him as a secondary father figure after he spun a tale of losing his daughter to a disease a few years ago.

"You look rough, Chief," she said as she handed him the piss swill called caffeine. He nodded gratefully and chugged it anyway, the tang burning his tongue and throat. "Want to talk about it? I know Steve and Mark got called in."

"Went to the scene and found blood. No bodies were found, but there's too much going on in Washington right now to not be a little cautious. I'll establish a curfew."

Can't even mention where Renesmee might have gone in case the Cullens find her.

"There are rumors around the station that it's a serial killer and the state doesn't want to admit it," she prodded.

"The state didn't do anything when all those people in Portland went missing, but I think they learned from it. We have some safety procedures to go through, but I want to schedule more patrols, especially for the night shift."

"Yes, sir," she nodded. "I'll make sure everyone's aware. Anything else?"

"I'll wait for the results to get back from Forensics. Make sure you get home safe," Charlie called out as he walked down to his office. It was located near the end of the corridor and he slipped into his leather office chair with a sigh. The walls were not very decorated, but he had pictures of himself and a very young Bella on his desk. In his second drawer, beneath a panel, were pictures of Bella on her wedding day and photos of Renesmee.

He opened it briefly to see the smiling face of his granddaughter as she stood proudly next to the first snowman she ever built with him, her cheeks flushed red with delight and milk brown eyes squinted. He stood next to her, arms over her dainty frame.

"I promise I'll find you," he whispered and then turned his attention to the computer. The old processor whined at the startup but with enough clicks, he found himself staring at the national database. His fingers clicked on the thick keys, entering what he could remember. The name was unique enough that it was easy to narrow it down to the pictures of at least three different men, but they did not match the description that Bella gave. Could it be that this boy wasn't in the system at all?

As he ruminated on the missing information, a knock sounded on the door. He looked up to see Brenda push the door open slightly, a frown marring her features.

"Chief, there's a girl here who wants to talk to you."

"Does she have a name?" It can't be Bella, can it?

The receptionist shrugged. "I've never seen her around town before. She refuses to meet and file with any other officer, but she says she has information that she only wants to report to you."

Charlie hummed. It was not Bella, but it could be someone who had information about Renesmee. The question was why this girl was insistent on reporting on him instead of other officers. He pondered for only a moment before nodding his head. His primary concern needed to come first, and if this girl had seen what had happened in the alley, then he would be willing to entertain her.

The door opened a second time, this time revealing a young woman. She was painfully short, curly hair pulled into a high ponytail that did little to contain the wild strands. Her attire was flecked with mud, but a dark tattoo stood out on her arm: SPRQ. Her face was deceptively calm as she slipped into the chair in front of him, one leg crossing the other and hands folded at the knee. She smiled at him pleasantly.

"Chief Swan," she greeted, her voice deceptively sweet.

"My receptionist said you wanted to report information directly to me. But before we start, who are you?" he asked.

The girl held up a hand and shook her head.

"I was told I should talk to you."

"By whom?"

"An acquaintance," her eyes roamed the room before refocusing on his. "I'm actually here for some information."

"About what?' he leaned forward, swayed by the possibility of learning Renesmee's location.

"About an abduction," the girl's smile dropped. "And I would appreciate some answers first if you want any help learning about Renesmee."