Who else is prepared for this long ass chapter? I've typed until my fingers were nothing but bone and my brain has been rattled.

Enjoy, and please review.

*More information, along with credits and disclaimers, can be found below.

Chapter 3: Friends & Strangers

"Have you heard anything more about Angela?" Bella asked suddenly one day as they entered the gym.

"Well," said Lauren after a moment, "I did hear that her parents were going to see a psychiatrist."

"A shrink? Why?"

"Well….apparently her father has been saying things that sound like hallucinations or something. And I heard her nightmares are pretty bad."

"Oh," Bella said. The sounds from the boys' locker room were fading, and they heard an outside door slam.

Hallucinations, she thought, hallucinations and nightmares. For some reason, she suddenly remembered that night in her backyard, when the forest nymph had left her in a state of shock before she had disappeared into thin air.

"We'd better get back to business," said Lauren.

Bella shook herself out of her thoughts and nodded. "We could have a graveyard," she said tentatively. "In the Haunted House, I mean."

"No," Lauren said with a sigh. "Jess wants us to stick with what we have."

While the whole new outlook on life had been nothing more than a good idea, there were some things that Bella wished she had thought out before agreeing to them. And helping set up for the Halloween party was one of them. She honestly didn't know what she was thinking. Jessica, who was in charge of it all, still wasn't talking to her, and Lauren either wanted to gossip about the Weber family, or just agreed with Jessica on everything. And, of course, Jessica's junior shadows were helping set up, too. Bella didn't know the others all that well so she was unfortunately stuck with trying to make conversation with Lauren for the time being.

It was after hours and they were holed up in the gym. Jessica was nowhere to be found, most likely making out with Eric in one of the dark closets. The school's janitor was in his office as the girls worked, and he had stressed the importance of locking the gym doors. He didn't want there to be any problems.

"OK then," Bella said at last. "We still have to measure the different partitions. Somebody's going to have to get in behind the bleachers…."

The lights in the gym had flickered and went down to half power.

"Oh, no," Lauren said, exasperated. The lights flickered again, went out, and returned dimly once more. "I can't see a thing." She stared at what now seemed to be a featureless piece of newspaper. She looked up at Bella and saw a white blob of a face.

"Something must be wrong with the emergency generator," Bella said.

"I'll go get the janitor."

"Can't we just finish tomorrow?" Bella said, almost hopefully.

"Tomorrow's Saturday," Lauren said. "And Jess wanted this done last week. So I'll get the janitor. You stay here."

Bella began, "We could both go—"

But Lauren interrupted.

"If we both leave and we can't find him, then we can't get back in."

"But it's dark in here."

"It's dark everywhere; it's night time. I'll be right back." She was practically already out the door. "Bella, don't let anybody else in."

"As if you had to tell me," Bella mumbled, letting Lauren out and then watching her go a few paces down the hall. When she disappeared around the corner, Bella shut the door.

Bella made her way over to the cardboard box Jessica had brought and began stacking filing folders and notebooks back inside it. She could only see them as vague shapes as the lights continued to flicker on and off. There was no sound at all but her own breathing and the humming of the lights that were trying to come back on. She was alone in the huge, dim room...

And someone was watching her.

She didn't know how she knew, but she was sure. Someone was watching her in the dark gymnasium, waiting. Someone had their eyes on her in the dark.

Bella turned around quickly to face the room, straining her own eyes to see into the shadows, holding her breath. She was terrified that if she made a sound whoever was out there would get her. But she could see nothing, hear nothing.

The bleachers were dim, and the far end of the room was simply a black void. She could see absolutely nothing and the realization made her thoughts go into overdrive. Every muscle was agonizingly tense as she listened desperately. Oh God, what was that soft whispering sound? It must be her imagination….please let it be her imagination.

Suddenly, she had made up her mind. She had to get out of there—now. Something dangerous was lingering, and it wasn't just her overactive imagination. Something was out there, something evil, something that wanted her. And she was all alone.

She hadn't felt so much fear since the incident she had stupidly ran blindly into. But not even James had made her feel so weak as he threw her around like a rag doll and broke her bones like he crushing bubble wrap. She had stood her ground against a vampire and barely made a sound as her body was being bent and broken. But whatever was lurking in the shadows invoked such a sense of fear that Bella felt almost sick to her stomach. She didn't want to think about it.

Then something moved in the shadows.

Her scream froze in her throat. Her muscles were frozen, too, held motionless by her terror—and by some nameless force. Helplessly, she watched as the shape in the darkness moved out of the shadows and toward her. It seemed almost as if the darkness itself had come to life and was rearranging itself she watched, taking on a form—a human form, the form of a young woman.

"I'm sorry if I frightened you."

The voice was pleasant, with a slight accent Bella couldn't place. It didn't sound sorry at all.

Relief was so sudden and complete that it was painful. Her shoulders slumped and she heard her own breath sigh out.

It was only a girl, some former student or maybe a teacher assistant. An ordinary girl, who was smiling faintly, as if it had amused her to see Bella almost pass out. That thought made the back of Bella's mind prickle.

Well….perhaps not quite ordinary. As she stared into those crystal clear blue eyes, Bella felt like she should've known who was in front of her.

She was remarkably good-looking. Her face was tawny in complexion and had a silver glow underneath the artificial twilight, but Bella could see that her features were cleanly defined and nearly perfect under a shock of cascading black hair. Those cheekbones were a sculptor's dream. And she'd been almost invisible because she was wearing black: soft black boots, black jeans, black sweater, and leather jacket.

She was still smiling faintly. Bella's relief turned to anger.

"How did you get in?" She demanded to know. "Nobody's supposed to be in the gym."

"I came in the back door," the girl said. Her voice was soft, cultured, but Bella could still hear the amusement and she found it condescending.

"All the doors are locked," Bella said flatly, accusingly.

The girl raised her perfectly shaped eyebrow and smirked. "Are they?"

Bella felt another quiver of fear. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up. "They were supposed to be," she said in the coldest voice she could manage.

"You're upset," the girl said observantly. "I said I was sorry that I frighten you."

"I wasn't frightened!" Bella wrapped her arms around her waist. She felt foolish in front of the girl somehow, like a child being humored by someone much older and more knowledgeable. It made her even angrier. "I was just startled," she continued. "Which is hardly surprising, with you lurking in the dark like that."

"Interesting things can happen in the dark….sometimes." The girl was still laughing at her; Bella could tell by her eyes.

The girl had taken a step closer, and Bella gasped as she got lost in those eyes that were so unusual. They were almost pristine and perfectly transparent and colorless as a pure diamond, but there was a mixture of white and blue in them. As if she could look deeper and deeper until she fell into them, and went on drowning in them forever.

Bella realized she was staring, and tried to look away. Why didn't the lights come on? She wanted to get out of there. She moved away, putting a trash can and the end of a bleacher between them, and gathered the last folders into her arms. There was no way she would be finishing the rest of the work for tonight. All she wanted to do now was leave.

But the continuing silence made her uneasy. The girl was just standing there, unmoving, watching her. Why didn't she say something?

"Are you looking for somebody?" Bella was annoyed for being the first one to speak.

The girl was still gazing at her, those light eyes fixed on her in a way that made her more and more uncomfortable.

She swallowed.

With her eyes on Bella's lips, the girl murmured, "Well, yes."

"What?" Bella's cheeks and throat were flushing, burning with blood. She had forgotten what she had just asked. She felt so light-headed. If only she'd stop looking at her like that….

"Yes, I'm looking for someone," the girl repeated, no louder than before. Then, in one step she moved toward Bella, so that they were separated only by the corner of one bleacher seat.

Bella couldn't breathe. She was standing so close. Close enough to touch. Bella could smell a faint hint of something woody and the leather of her jacket. And her eyes still held Bella's—she couldn't look away from them. They were like no eyes she had ever seen, practically clear like a diamond, the dilating pupils were very easy to see. They filled Bella's vision as she leaned toward her, bending her head down to hers. Bella felt her own eyes half close, losing focus. She felt her head tilt back, her lips part.

No! Just in time she whipped her head to the side. She felt as if she'd just pulled herself back from the edge of a precipice. What am I doing? she thought in shock. I was about to let her kiss me. A total stranger, someone I met only a few minutes ago.

Bella didn't like the feeling she had just felt. It was like being dazzled with butterscotch eyes and a perfect face, but only more intense. It was like the girl had somehow been controlling Bella's mind. There was no other way she could describe it.

But that wasn't the worst thing. For those few minutes, something unbelievable had happened. For those few minutes, she had forgotten about him.

But now his image filled her mind, and the longing for him was like a physical pain in her body. She wanted him, wanted his arms around her, wanted to be safe with him.

She swallowed. Her nostrils flared as she breathed hard. She wasn't supposed to think about him, she didn't want to. She tried to keep her voice steady and dignified. "I'm going to leave now," she said. "If you're looking for somebody, I think you'd better look somewhere else."

The girl was still looking at her oddly, with an expression she couldn't understand. It was a mixture of annoyance and grudging respect—and something else. Something hot and fierce that frightened her in a different way.

She waited until Bella's hand was on the doorknob to answer, and her voice was soft but serious, with no trace of amusement. "Perhaps I've already found her….Bella."

When Bella turned, she could see nothing in the darkness.

.

(A Week Ago)

The motorcycles didn't need to be hidden away further than simply placing them in Jacob's shed. Billy's wheelchair couldn't maneuver the uneven ground separating it from the house.

Jacob started pulling the first bike—the red one, which was destined for Bella—to pieces immediately. He opened up the passenger door of the Rabbit so she could sit on the seat instead of the ground. While he worked, Jacob chattered happily, needing only the lightest of nudges from her to keep the conversation rolling. He updated her on the progress of his sophomore year of school, running on about his classes and his two best friends.

"Quil and Embry?" She interrupted. "Those are unusual names."

Jacob chuckled. "Quil's is a hand-me-down, and I think Embry got named after a soap opera star. I can't say anything, though. They fight dirty if you start on their names—they'll tag team you."

"Good friends." She raised one eyebrow.

"No, they are. Just don't mess with their names."

Just then a call echoed in the distance. "Jacob?" someone shouted.

"Is that Billy?" She asked.

"No." Jacob ducked his head, and it looked like he was blushing under his brown skin. "Speak of the devil," he mumbled, "and the devil shall appear."

"Jake? Are you out here?" The shouting voice was closer now.

"Yeah!" Jacob shouted back, and sighed.

They waited through the short silence until two tall, dark-skinned boys strolled around the corner into the shed. One was slender, and almost as tall as Jacob. His black hair was chin-length and parted down the middle, one side tucked behind his left ear while the right side swung free. The shorter boy was more burly. His white T-shirt strained over his well-developed chest, and he seemed gleefully conscious of that fact. His hair was so short it was almost a buzz.

Both boys stopped short when they saw Bella. The thin boy glanced swiftly back and forth between Jacob and her, while the brawny boy kept his eyes on her, a slow smile spreading across his face.

"Hey, guys," Jacob greeted them halfheartedly.

"Hey, Jake," the short one said without looking away from Bella. She had to smile in response, his grin was so impish. When she did, he winked at her. "Hi, there."

"Quil, Embry—this is my friend, Bella."

Quil and Embry, she still didn't know which was which, exchanged a loaded look.

"Charlie's kid, right?" the brawny boy asked her, holding out his hand.

"That's right," Bella confirmed, shaking hands with him. His grasp was firm; it looked like he was flexing his bicep.

"I'm Quil Ateara," he announced grandly before releasing her hand.

"Nice to meet you, Quil."

"Hey, Bella. I'm Embry, Embry Call—you probably already figured that out, though." Embry smiled a shy smile and waved with one hand, which he then shoved in the pocket of his jeans.

She nodded. "Nice to meet you, too."

"So what are you guys doing?" Quil asked, still looking at her.

"Bella and I are going to fix up these bikes," Jacob explained inaccurately. But bikes seemed to be the magic word. Both boys went to examine Jacob's project, drilling him with educated questions. Many of the words they used were unfamiliar to her, and she figured she'd have to have a Y chromosome to really understand the excitement.

They were still immersed in talk of parts and pieces when she decided that she needed to head back home before Charlie showed up here. With a sigh, she slid out of the Rabbit.

Jacob looked up, apologetic. "We're boring you, aren't we?"

"Naw." And it wasn't a lie. She was enjoying herself—how strange. "I just have to go cook dinner for Charlie."

"Oh….well, I'll finish taking these apart tonight and figure out what more we'll need to get started rebuilding them. When do you want to work on them again?"

"Could I come back tomorrow?" Sundays were the bane of her existence. There was never enough homework to keep her busy.

Quil nudged Embry's arm and they exchanged grins.

Jacob smiled in delight. "That would be great!"

"If you make a list, we can go shop for parts," Bella suggested.

Jacob's face fell a little. "I'm still not sure I should let you pay for everything."

She shook her head. "No way. I'm bankrolling this party. You just have to supply the labor and expertise."

Embry rolled his eyes at Quil.

"That doesn't seem right," Jacob shook his head.

"Jake, if I took these to a mechanic, how much would he charge me?" She pointed out.

He smiled. "Okay, you're getting a deal."

"Not to mention the riding lessons," Bella added.

Quil grinned widely at Embry and whispered something she didn't catch. Jacob's hand flashed out to smack the back of Quil's head. "That's it, get out," he muttered.

"No, really, I have to go," she protested, heading for the door. "I'll see you tomorrow, Jacob."

As soon as she was out of sight, she heard Quil and Embry chorus, "Wooooo!"

The sound of a brief scuffle followed, interspersed with an "ouch" and a "hey!"

"If either of you set so much as one toe on my land tomorrow..." she heard Jacob threaten. His voice was lost as she walked through the trees.

She giggled quietly. The sound made her eyes widen in wonder. She was laughing, actually laughing, and there wasn't even anyone watching. She felt so weightless that she laughed again, just make the feeling last longer.

She beat Charlie home. When he walked in she was just taking the fried chicken out of the pan and laying it on a pile of paper towels.

"Hey, Dad." She flashed him a grin.

Shock flitted across his face before he pulled his expression together. "Hey, honey," he said, his voice uncertain. "Did you have fun with Jacob?"

Bella started moving the food to the table. "Yeah, I did."

"Well, that's good." He was still cautious. "What did you two do?"

Now it was her turn to be cautious. "I hung out in his garage and watched him work. Did you know he's rebuilding a Volkswagen?"

"Yeah, I think Billy mentioned that."

The interrogation had to stop when Charlie began chewing, but he continued to study her face as he ate.

After dinner, Bella dithered around, cleaning the kitchen twice, and then did her homework slowly in the front room while Charlie watched a hockey game. She waited as long as she could, but finally Charlie mentioned the late hour. When she didn't respond, he got up, stretched, and then left, turning out the light behind him. Reluctantly, she followed.

As she climbed the stairs, she felt the last of the afternoon's abnormal sense of well-being drain from her system, replaced by a dull fear at the thought of what she was going to have to live through now.

She wasn't numb anymore. Tonight would, no doubt, be as horrific as last night. She lay down on her bed and curled into a ball in preparation for the onslaught. She squeezed her eyes shut and….the next thing she knew, it was morning.

.

(The Quileute Tribal Council)

The five appointed council members met in the old boarding house, built over three centuries ago. It was a rugged structure that somehow stood against the test of time and proved a safe haven to conduct meetings. Rarely, if ever, did the council meet under dire circumstances. Especially due to the likings of a pale face.

The boarding house was dark. The five members waited silently. Thunder cracked in the distance. Lightning soon followed, illuminating the space that only had candlelight for them to see.

"T'ist'ilal is angry," the white-haired man muttered under his breath.

No one responded. They just listened to the storm rage on as no rain came from the sky.

Billy Black was there, his wheelchair stationed at what was the natural head of the circle. Beside him, looking quite brittle, was the white-haired Old Quil. Sue Clearwater sat stiff as a board with her father by her side. Jonathan Uley simply looked withered and tired. Then there was Nora Black, Billy's eldest sibling, who was as ancient looking as Old Quil, but managed to age gracefully.

They felt a rumbling vibration like an earthquake rocking the floor. Around them, some of the candles blew out mysteriously as no wind swept in the room. Ghostly flames began to to glow in pale blues and violets and rose to an alarming height.

Nora Black opened her hand to greet the magical flame. Just as she was about to run her fingers through it, there was a bang.

Sue Clearwater was obviously disturbed. "The whole place is shaking—what's going on?"

"Just relax, Sue," Jonathan said gingerly.

They all heard the crack of thunder that sounded too close for comfort.

For one second they were frozen, then the fire of the candles plunged forward. The vibrant colors merged together, robbing the five occupants of their eyesight as a flash of blue lightning exploded from the fire. It knocked the candles off of the shelves, flinging them into the walls.

The lightning formed a column and something shot out.

The Council members didn't so much see it as sense it. A wraith shape that tore around the room like a blast of cold air. It sent the books and other items flying. When it reached the window, it paused for an instant, as if it was gathering itself, and then a human-like form began to shift from the misty wind.

A man stood before them.

"Great Father Q'wati," Old Quil whispered from his position. He was staring at the man with luminous eyes, and he was fascinated.

Long black hair framed a mature face with dark eyes that possessed knowledge beyond any of their comprehension. While he wasn't as tall as the young men on the reservation, he was just as sturdy and muscular. His russet skin was smooth and unmarred which was gilded with what looked like the sun's rays. He was completely and comfortably naked. The set of eyes on his figure did not cause him any grievous; and why would it? He was a deity that they worshiped as having power over nature and human fortunes. He was their god, their creator, their father. Without him, they would be nothing.

"I am not pleased." Q'wati—the creator and protector of the Quileute people—stared out the window with eyes made of stone. They did not move or focus on one set thing, but they gave away that he was gazing out into the unknown world that mortals could not see with their own two eyes. His voice was unexpectedly soft with an undertone raspiness of an older man. But it was still strong, and his voice alone demanded attention and respect. "Only seventy years have past, and yet I am called upon once more. Tell me, my children, why am I here?"

Regal and poised, Nora Black spoke first. "It all started when a pale face's toddler had been kidnapped. They were twin boys and the oldest one had been taken."

"And what concern is that to us?" Q'wati would not stand by and listen to the misfortune of a pale face. He held no sympathy or good will towards them.

"None at all—or so we thought," Jonathan Uley said as Q'wati turned his dark eyes on the older man. "A few days ago two pale faces had been certain that they were attacked by ghost, but when my wife and I went to investigate we came to the conclusion that it hadn't been a spirit, but a creature."

"Describe this creature," Q'wati demanded.

"My wife believes that it more than one and that they may travel in packs. They are invisible to the human eye, but are very mischievous. They gather in bushes or mushrooms, and seem attracted to pretty, shiny things or humans. And they do not like the sound of bells."

Silence filled the room as a knowing look swept over Q'wati's face. His dark eyes narrowed and his mouth was pressed into a thin line. "These creatures are what you know as pixies, and are very far from their home. They hail from England, mostly in Devon, Somerset and Cornwall, and it is truly rare that they would travel so far."

"They were interested in a girl," Jonathan added.

"A girl? What is so special about her?"

"From what we can tell, nothing. She's just a normal pale face."

"Obviously she isn't," Old Quil sneered under his breath. He certainly wasn't pleased to be discussing what had attacked the pale face. If he had it his way, they wouldn't have been talking about it at all. Why did they care what happened to the pale faces? They had taken their land, corrupted the wild life around them and pushed them to the brink of extinction. Old Quil thought that the pale faces were finally getting what they deserved.

Jonathan ignored Old Quil, though. "But then my wife told me that the creatures had spoken to her. The girl is apparently in danger."

"Are we in any danger?"

Sue Clearwater twitched in her seat. She didn't like Q'wati, origins be damned. How could he stand there with no concern over a baby or teenager? Those children had nothing to do with their ancestors actions, and it wasn't right that they had to pay the price for them.

Toddlers were disappearing; grotesque monstrosities were being left in their place and families were killing whatever was found in the crib the next morning. How didn't that concern them? They could've been next. And what were they to do when the kidnappers grew tired of babies? Would elementary school children be next? Then the teenagers? Were any of the children—no matter how old they were—safe? Sue held no qualms towards the pale faces of Forks because not only had she herself faced plenty of racism, but she was also a mother. As mother she wanted her children to be safe and protected, and she would offer her help to any child no matter what they looked like. And she hoped that others would do the same for her children. That, and, she had taught her children that two wrongs do not make a right. Those who judged based off of the color of your skin were ignorant people who were stuck in a forgotten time, but it was up to those who faced the prejudice to rise above that ignorance and turn the other cheek.

There was always a time and a place to stand up for yourself and educate others, though, but Sue had learned that there were some people you just couldn't get through.

And Q'wati was like one of those people.

"Yes," Billy Black confirmed. "The Mannegishi said so."

Q'wati did not look convinced, and no one could blame him. The race of trickster people, whose one of biggest delights—a completely non-heroic form of trickster behavior—was to crawl out of the rocks and capsize the canoes of people canoeing through the rapids, spinning them to their death, certainly was not the most reliable source of information. They played devious tricks all the time, but they could be serious. Q'wati had witnessed that phenomenon only thrice in his entire existence, and each time had been related to the fear of the Quileute being obliterated from the face of the earth just like their only kindred, the Chimakum Tribe, had been when they were washed away by a flood.

"What else did they say?" Q'wati glanced out the window, almost like he had been expecting to see multiple humanoid heads poking from around the trees, with gigantic glowing orange eyes staring at the cabin.

"That it was….nice to have like minded beings around," Billy Black said.

Q'wati's broad shoulders tensed. "It is what I feared than." None of the humans spoke. They willingly held their breaths as they waited for Q'wati to continue. "Pixies are not known to travel far from their land. They followed something here."

"But does that have to do with the children?" Sue Clearwater asked, participating for the first time that night. "Are the pixies the one kidnapping them?"

"No. The creatures that are taking the pale faced children have done so for centuries, but never in such a strategic way before. And the pixies have never intervened; it is against their laws to do such a thing."

Q'wati didn't want to believe that this was happening again. History could not be repeating itself so soon. It had been roughly over two hundred years since the child snatching creatures—who he would later find out were called changelings—had made their presence known to their land. Those ugly creatures had followed the ho-kwats, stowing away on the ships and had enjoyed wrecking havoc all over their once flourished territory. Q'wati and the other great spirits had tried to form some type of allegiance with the foreign creatures that had looked like rotten corpses, but to no avail for the changelings didn't answer to Q'wati or to any of the gods and spirits of the New World. They took command from a much more powerful ruler.

"The pixies are here to save this place. There is only one creature and one creature alone that pixies would actively travel the world to defeat," Q'wati said. He still had a far away look in his eyes. "But I must know which one they're up against."

Q'wati pushed his shoulders back and strained his neck as lightning struck nearby again. The darkness in his eyes stretched until his entire pupil was dilated. He looked more like a soulless monster than a great protector.

He turned and walked towards the door.

"Wait!" Sue Clearwater called. "What are we supposed to do?"

"It'd be wise to put iron in the beds of the young, and do make sure that it is hundred percent iron; or make a wreath with blackberry stems, ivy, and boxwood," was all that Q'wati offered. "If I am correct, then the creature who is assisting the children snatchers is immensely powerful and devious. Not even I could rival their strength."

Streaks of pure white crackled against the calm blanket of grey, shrouding hot silver clouds with its blinding incandescence, emanating the might of an imminent tempest. Jagged bolts endlessly protrude, filling the sky with undying flashes of radiance. Another flash burned into their dilated pupils—followed hotly by a cracking boom.

When they unshielded their eyes, Q'wati was gone.

.

(Present Day)

Bella stared at the pale silver light coming through her window, stunned.

For the first time in more than four months, she'd slept without dreaming. Dreaming or screaming. She couldn't tell which emotion was stronger—the relief or the shock.

She lay still in her bed for a few minutes, waiting for it to come back. Because something must be coming. If not the pain, then the numbness. She waited, but nothing happened. She felt more rested than she had in a long time.

She didn't trust this to last. It was a slippery, precarious edge that she balanced on, and it wouldn't take much to knock her back down. Just glancing around her room with those suddenly clear eyes—noticing how strange it looked, too tidy, like she didn't live here at all—was dangerous.

She pushed that thought from her mind, and concentrated, as she got dressed, on the fact that she was going to see Jacob again today. The thought made her feel almost….hopeful. Maybe it would be the same as yesterday. Maybe she wouldn't have to remind herself to look interested and to nod or smile at appropriate intervals, the way she had to with everyone else. Maybe….but she wouldn't trust this to last, either. Wouldn't trust it to be the same—so easy—as yesterday. She wasn't going to set herself up for disappointment like that.

At breakfast, Charlie was being careful, too. He tried to hide his scrutiny, keeping his eyes on his eggs until he thought she wasn't looking.

"What are you up to today?" he asked, eyeing a loose thread on the edge of his cuff like he wasn't paying much attention to her answer.

"I'm going to hang out with Jacob again."

He nodded without looking up. "Oh," he said.

"Do you mind?" Bella pretended to worry. "I could stay..."

He glanced up quickly, a hint of panic in his eyes. "No, no! You go ahead. Harry was going to come up to watch the game with me anyway."

"Maybe Harry could give Billy a ride up," she suggested. The fewer witnesses the better.

"That's a great idea."

Bella wasn't sure if the game was just an excuse for kicking her out, but he looked excited enough now. He headed to the phone while she donned her rain jacket. She felt self-conscious with the checkbook shoved in her jacket pocket. It was something she never used.

Outside, the rain came down like water slopped from a bucket. She had to drive more slowly than she wanted to; she could hardly see a car length in front of the truck. But she finally made it through the muddy lanes to Jacob's house. Before she'd killed the engine, the front door opened and Jacob came running out with a huge black umbrella.

He held it over her door while she opened it.

"Charlie called—said you were on your way," Jacob explained with a grin.

Effortlessly, without a conscious command to the muscles around her lips, her answering smile spread across her face. A strange feeling of warmth bubbled up in her throat, despite the icy rain splattering on her cheeks.

"Hi, Jacob."

"Good call on inviting Billy up." He held up his hand for a high five.

Bella had to reach so high to slap his hand that he laughed.

Harry showed up to get Billy just a few minutes later. Jacob took her on a brief tour of his tiny room while they waited to be unsupervised.

"So where to, Mr. Goodwrench?" She asked as soon as the door closed behind Billy.

Jacob pulled a folded paper out of his pocket and smoothed it out. "We'll start at the dump first, see if we can get lucky. This could get a little expensive," he warned her. "Those bikes are going to need a lot of help before they'll run again." Her face didn't look worried enough, so he continued. "I'm talking about maybe more than a hundred dollars here."

She pulled her checkbook out, fanned herself with it, and rolled her eyes at his worries. "We're covered."

It was a very strange kind of day. She enjoyed herself. Even at the dump, in the slopping rain and ankle-deep mud. She wondered at first if it was just the aftershock of losing the numbness, but she didn't think that was enough of an explanation.

She was beginning to think it was mostly Jacob. It wasn't just that he was always so happy to see her, or that he didn't watch her out of the corner of his eye, waiting for her to do something that would mark her as crazy or depressed. It was nothing that related to her at all.

It was Jacob himself. Jacob was simply a perpetually happy person, and he carried that happiness with him like an aura, sharing it with whoever was near him. Like an earthbound sun, whenever someone was within his gravitational pull, Jacob warmed them. It was natural, a part of who he was. No wonder she was so eager to see him.

Even when he commented on the gaping hole in her dashboard, it didn't send her into a panic like it should have.

"Did the stereo break?" he wondered.

"Yeah," she lied.

He poked around in the cavity. "Who took it out? There's a lot of damage..."

"I did," she admitted.

He laughed. "Maybe you shouldn't touch the motorcycles too much."

"No problem."

According to Jacob, they did get lucky at the dump. He was very excited about several grease-blackened pieces of twisted metal that he found; she was just impressed that he could tell what they were supposed to be.

From there we went to the Checker Auto Parts down in Hoquiam. In her truck, it was more than a two hour drive south on the winding freeway, but the time passed easily with Jacob. He chattered about his friends and his school, and Bella found herself asking questions, not even pretending, truly curious to hear what he had to say.

"I'm doing all the talking," he complained after a long story about Quil and the trouble he'd stirred up by asking out a senior's steady girlfriend. "Why don't you take a turn? What's going on in Forks? It has to be more exciting than La Push."

"Wrong," she sighed. "There's really nothing. Your friends are a lot more interesting than mine. I like your friends. Quil's funny."

He frowned. "I think Quil likes you, too."

She laughed. "He's a little young for me."

Jacob's frown deepened. "He's not that much younger than you. It's just a year and a few months."

Bella had a feeling they weren't talking about Quil anymore. She kept her voice light, teasing. "Sure, but, considering the difference in maturity between guys and girls, don't you have to count that in dog years? What does that make me, about twelve years older?"

He laughed, rolling his eyes. "Okay, but if you're going to get picky like that, you have to average in size, too. You're so small, I'll have to knock ten years off your total."

"Five foot four is perfectly average." She sniffed. "It's not my fault you're a freak."

They bantered like that till Hoquiam, still arguing over the correct formula to determine age—she lost two more years because she didn't know how to change a tire, but gained one back for being in charge of the bookkeeping at her house—until they were in Checker, and Jacob had to concentrate again. They found everything left on his list, and Jacob felt confident that he could make a lot of progress with their haul.

By the time they got back to La Push, she was twenty-three and he was thirty—he was definitely weighting skills in his favor.

Bella hadn't forgotten the reason for what she was doing. And, even though she was enjoying herself more than she'd thought possible, there was no lessening of her original desire. She still wanted to cheat. It was senseless, and she really didn't care. She was going to be as reckless as she could possibly manage in Forks. She would not be the only keeper of an empty contract. Getting to spend time with Jacob was just a much bigger perk than she'd. expected.

Billy wasn't back yet, so they didn't have to be sneaky about unloading their day's spoils. As soon as they had everything laid out on the plastic floor next to Jacob's toolbox, he went right to work, still talking and laughing while his fingers combed expertly through the metal pieces in front of him.

Jacob's skill with his hands was fascinating. They looked too big for the delicate tasks they performed with ease and precision. While he worked, he seemed almost graceful. Unlike when he was on his feet; there, his height and big feet made him nearly as dangerous as she was.

Quil and Embry did not show up, so maybe his threat yesterday had been taken seriously.

The day passed too quickly. It got dark outside the mouth of the garage before Bella was expecting it, and then they heard Billy calling for them.

Bella jumped up to help Jacob put things away, hesitating because she wasn't sure what she should touch.

"Just leave it," he said. "I'll work on it later tonight."

"Don't forget your schoolwork or anything," she said, feeling a little guilty. She didn't want him to get in trouble. That plan was just for her.

"Bella?"

Both their heads snapped up as Charlie's familiar voice wafted through the trees, sounding closer than the house.

"Shoot," she muttered. "Coming!" She yelled toward the house.

"Let's go." Jacob smiled, enjoying the cloak-and-dagger. He snapped the light off, and for a moment she was blind. Jacob grabbed her hand and towed her out of the garage and through the trees, his feet finding the familiar path easily. His hand was rough, and very warm.

Despite the path, they were both tripping over their feet in the darkness. So they were also both laughing when the house came into view. The laughter did not go deep; it was light and superficial, but still nice. She was sure he wouldn't notice the faint hint of hysteria. She wasn't used to laughing, and it felt right and also very wrong at the same time.

Charlie was standing under the little back porch, and Billy was sitting in the doorway behind them.

"Hey, Dad," they both said at the same time, and that started them laughing again.

Charlie stared at Bella with wide eyes that flashed down to note Jacob's hand around hers.

"Billy invited us for dinner," Charlie said to them in an absentminded tone.

"My super secret recipe for spaghetti. Handed down for generations," Billy said gravely.

Jacob snorted. "I don't think Ragu's actually been around that long."

The house was crowded. Harry Clearwater was there, too, with his family—his wife, Sue, whom she knew vaguely from her childhood summers in Forks, and his two children. Leah was a senior like Bella, but a year older. She was beautiful in an exotic way—perfect copper skin, glistening black hair, eyelashes like feather dusters—and preoccupied. She was on Billy's phone when we got in, and she never let it go. Seth was fourteen; he hung on Jacob's every word with idolizing eyes.

There were too many of them for the kitchen table, so Charlie and Harry brought chairs out to the yard, and they ate spaghetti off plates on their laps in the dim light from Billy's open door. The men talked about the game, and Harry and Charlie made fishing plans. Sue teased her husband about his cholesterol and tried, unsuccessfully, to shame him into eating something green and leafy. Jacob talked mostly to Bella and Seth, who interrupted eagerly whenever Jacob seemed in danger of forgetting him. Charlie watched Bella, trying to be inconspicuous about it, with pleased but cautious eyes.

It was loud and sometimes confusing as everyone talked over everyone else, and the laughter from one joke interrupted the telling of another. Bella didn't have to speak often, but she smiled a lot, and only because she felt like it.

She didn't want to leave.

This was Washington, though, and the inevitable rain eventually broke up the party; Billy's living room was much too small to provide an option for continuing the get-together. Harry had driven Charlie down, so they rode together in Bella's truck on the way back home. He asked about her day, and she told mostly the truth—that she'd gone with Jacob to look at parts and then watched him work in his garage.

"You think you'll visit again anytime soon?" he wondered, trying to be casual about it.

"Tomorrow after school," she admitted. "I'll take homework, don't worry."

"You be sure to do that," he ordered, trying to disguise his satisfaction.

Bella was nervous when they got to the house. She didn't want to go upstairs. The warmth of Jacob's presence was fading and, in its absence, the anxiety grew stronger. She was sure she wouldn't get away with two peaceful nights of sleep in a row.

To put bedtime off, she checked my e-mail; there was a new message from Renee.

She wrote about her day, a new book club that filled the time slot of the meditation classes she'd just quit, her week subbing in the second grade, missing her kindergarteners. She wrote that Phil was enjoying his new coaching job, and that they were planning a second honeymoon trip to Disney World.

And Bella noticed that the whole thing read like a journal entry, rather than a letter to someone else. Remorse flooded through her, leaving an uncomfortable sting behind. Some daughter she was.

She wrote back to her quickly, commenting on each part of her letter, volunteering information of her own—describing the spaghetti party at Billy's and how she felt watching Jacob build useful things out of small pieces of metal—awed and slightly envious. She made no reference to the change this letter would be from the ones she'd received in the last several months. Bella could barely remember what she'd written to her even as recently as last week, but she was sure it wasn't very responsive. The more she thought about it, the guiltier she felt; she really must have worried her.

She stayed up extra late after that, finishing more homework than strictly necessary. But neither sleep deprivation nor the time spent with Jacob—being almost happy in a shallow kind of way—could keep the dream away for two nights in a row.

Bella woke shuddering, her scream muffled by the pillow.

.

(Later That Night; Tulsa, Oklahoma)

Aphrodite LaFont stood in the lower level of the rescue charity of Street Cats with her back against the wall, facing several of the stray cats that were allowed to roam around freely. It was almost dark, and the sun was setting quickly. Some Christian folk band was playing, talking about how Jesus loved them and how they knew since he had died for them. None of the cats seemed to mind her presence as they brushed up against her and meows softly. Her heart melted and she fought the urge to adopt another. Maleficent was a handful all by herself, and Aphrodite doubted that the purebred Persian would be willing to share her attention.

She strutted across the room, holding her head high with her shoulders pushed back, making sure to mind the scurrying cats at her feet. "Why did you call me?" She asked Sister Mary Angela, the nun in charge of most things there. She had been surprised to see a message left by the nun nonetheless. The two of them certainly butted heads more than once when she had allowed Aphrodite and the Nerd Herd to hide out in the underground sanctuary.

"Hello to you, too, Aphrodite." Sister Mary Angela just smiled.

The blonde gave a pitiful smile back. "Yeah, hi. So, like, can you tell me why you called me today? It sounded urgent, but you kinda interrupted my sexy time with Darius."

Sister Mary Angela ignored the last part of the blonde's sentence. She had grown accustomed to Aphrodite's lack of a filter. "Someone underground wants a word with."

Aphrodite raised her perfectly manicured eyebrow, posing a silent question.

"She didn't give her name," Sister Mary Angela said. "I asked a couple of times, but she wouldn't tell me. I told her that you were probably busy today. I can tell her that you weren't available."

"No. I'll go see her."

There was only one person who wouldn't give their name out so freely.

Aphrodite walked down the corridor towards the secret passage to the underground. She made her way through the tunnels to area that the red fledglings had once called home; it had also been the same place that Aphrodite and her friends had hid deep in underneath Tulsa when their world had gone to hell.

She heard light footsteps echoing in the tunnels, growing closer, and when the winged girl stepped out from the darkened underground, Aphrodite knew that nothing good would come from this talk. The girl's black hair was down to her waist, and covered her bare chest and was curling at the ends. She was wearing dark painted on jeans, and her silver glowing skin shinned dimly in the darkness, making the abnormal words written on her skin stand out even more.

Aphrodite's face was always a mask, and no one knew what she was thinking at any given moment unless the person was Darius. He had been the only one who had taken the time to get to know her. But as soon as she locked eyes on the winged girl, she knew that her surprised had showed. She recovered quickly, all emotions gone and her eyes returned to being guarded and wary. "Aspen?"

"How have you been, Aphrodite?" The forest nymph, the fallen angel, and Princess—better known to friends and family as Aspen—asked with a coy smile.

"What are you doing here?" Aphrodite's eyes turned even more watchful, knowing full well that Aspen wasn't there for a drop in social call.

"I took a break." Aspen's smile twisted up on one side. "Princess duties can be such a bore. I tried getting away sooner, but protocol—which is a pain in the arse. It's not exactly the most fun thing to do."

"So….you decided to drop in and what? Say hi or something?"

"I know it's been a while, but I was hoping for a more friendly reaction." Aspen pushed her lips out in a pout.

Aphrodite didn't respond.

"I've been thinking about you lately." Aspen's voice dimmed to a low, sexy pitch and took a step closer to Aphrodite. "No other human quiet has your spirit. And it's been a long time since one of your kind has caught my eye. Besides, we use to have so much fun together—well, while it lasted. But aren't you a wee bit curious to what I have to say?"

"I'm listening." Aphrodite cleared her throat and shifted her stance. She didn't like the uncertainty bubbling up in her chest.

"What have you seen?"

"I haven't seen anything."

Aspen tipped her head back and laughed.

"What?" Aphrodite demanded.

"Your visions are more powerful than they ever have been, and that's all in thanks to me. Did you honestly think there wouldn't be a catch?"

Aphrodite narrowed her eyes. "What catch?" Her voice choked with irritation.

Without warning, Aspen reached out and curled her fist into Aphrodite's shirt, pulling the blonde closer as their mouths fused together with a kiss. Aphrodite tensed, taken by surprise at the sudden action, but slowly she turned towards Aspen, her body relaxing. The blonde's arms came up and skimmed the through the soft, pitch black waves of hair.

Aphrodite pulled back for air and swallowed hard, trying to chase the stab of guilt away that swarmed around in her heart. Part of her wanted to push her conscience aside and continue on with the kiss, reverting back to her old ways. Until she'd met Darius, she hadn't let anyone get close enough to her for it to matter whether they lied to her or not. She'd been sure she'd lied to them first. Cheated on them first. Broken up with them first.

"When a fairy grants a wish with their own free will, there's always a favor to return," Aspen explained as she stayed rooted in her spot. She didn't untangle herself from Aphrodite. "And the human doesn't always to have agree to the terms and conditions." She brushed her pouty lips against the smooth, pale column of the blonde's neck. "You're special," she whispered. "Many centuries have passed since the last true human oracle has walked this realm. I knew that I couldn't just let you go."

As Aspen stepped back, anxiety washed over Aphrodite. Without warning, Aspen grasped the side of her head, forcing topaz blue eyes to stare at otherworldly ones.

"You're my personal Pythia," she purred.

Aphrodite shivered at the darkness seeping in Aspen's tone. She didn't like the look of madness that made the fairy's eyes sparkle. Aspen steered the blonde towards the wall. She planted her there, using her wings to encase her like some trophy.

"I haven't seen anything," Aphrodite swore. She was trapped, both physically and mentally. She was almost scared to breathe. "Nothing pertaining to you, at least."

"You're lying."

Aphrodite's mouth dropped. She shook her head. "No, I'm not. Why would I lie?"

"You've been having odd dreams, haven't you?"

With a slight hesitation, Aphrodite eyed the fairy with precaution. "How did you know that?"

Aspen laughed again. "I gave you some of my magic, Aphrodite. Don't be so dense. I'm connected to you."

Aspen noticed the tightness around Aphrodite's eyes as she shook her head. "Hell no, I refuse to be connected to someone again. I didn't like it the first time, and I willingly agreed to that bullshit. So I sure as hell don't want it since I didn't even get a fucking say."

The left side of Aspen's lips tugged upwards, creating a sinister smirk on her god like face; casting a spell of pure amusement to the eyes that dared to look her way. "You better watch that tongue of yours, love. Just because your something valuable and we've fucked around a few times doesn't mean I won't bruise your pretty little face. You don't need a tongue to tell me your visions when I can so easily read your mind."

Aphrodite could feel the thumping of her heart against her chest. Her fingers curled into a fist, nails digging into her palm. She couldn't hear her rapid breathing, but she could feel the oxygen flooding in and out of her lungs.

"They're just dreams."

Aspen rolled her eyes with a light sigh. "Are you sure about that?"

"Yes," Aphrodite spat out through clenched teeth.

"Aphrodite." Aspen spoke her name as a soft threat. She wanted to reach out with her magic and twist the blonde's mind until she was screaming bloody murder about her dreams—her visions.

"I can't tell you," the blonde finally said with quiet conviction even though her voice wavered. "Please don't make me tell you. They're fucking horrible."

Aspen leaned forward until their noses brushed against each other's. She flicked her tongue out and teased the seams of Aphrodite's lips, biting back a smirk when the blonde gasped in shock. "Then tell me just one little thing, and I'll go away."

"Wha–what?"

"Just one thing," the fairy repeated. "That's all I want, and then I'll leave you alone." She swallowed the for now that was on the tip of her tongue.

"It doesn't work like that," Aphrodite said with a bit of incredulous. "Some of the visions I have are sacred and private, and only Nyx has the privilege to know since she is my Goddess. She could punish me—"

"One name, Aphrodite."

"Promise me then that's all you want from me. I'll give you the name and tell you whatever it is that you want to know, and then you'll leave me alone. Give me your word."

"You'd trust my word?"

"No," Aphrodite said. "I wouldn't."

Aspen laughed coolly and, while staring down Aphrodite until she squirmed in place, touched her pointer finger in the center of the blonde's forehead. "Then I'll just to get the answers myself. Oh, and while I'm digging around in your brain, I might as well look at your dreams. I'll be killing two birds with one stone." The silver glow that came from within her body began to pulse around her fingertip until it shined like a diamond. "By the way, this is going to be fucking painful for you."

"Aspen, wait—" Aphrodite began to panic as the center of her forehead began to burn in the most unpleasant of ways. "Aspen, please stop!"

The burning sensation ceased. The fairy stared into Aphrodite's tear glassed eyes with childlike amusement.

"I'll tell you the name," Aphrodite mumbled. Her voice sounded so feeble. "I'll tell you the fucking name. Just….please—stop."

"Bella Swan," Aspen said. "Have you had any dreams about her?"

Aphrodite nodded her head. The beads of sweat rolled down her face at the movement. "A lot."

"Is she going to die?"

Aphrodite nodded her head again.

"How is she going to die?"

"Someone's going to kill her," Aphrodite whimpered.

"Who?"

"I don't know." Aphrodite pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes until she saw stars. She shook her head and swallowed hard. Whoever Bella Swan was, she was going to suffer. Someone wanted her to only remember excruciating pain until they took her life in the most horrid way imaginable. "There's too much commotion. I can't focus on somethings because they aren't apart of the natural order. Something's blocking me. It's all blurring together, they come too fast in flashes. I can't see them clearly. I don't want to see them."

Aspen tucked a loose strand of Aphrodite's hair behind her ears. Aphrodite shuddered away from the fairy's touch. "I can't see anything right."

"Who's going to kill Bella Swan?" Aspen urged. She was thankful that Aphrodite refused to look her in the eyes. She had felt the faint crack in her expression—the frown of disbelief mixed with annoyance.

"It's a female," Aphrodite crocked out. "She's been watching her, and she doesn't even know it. She doesn't feel the eyes on her. How can she not feel it? No, wait—now it's a male. He's….he's ripping her abdomen apart with his teeth. He's pulling something out of….no, no….it's a female again, but different from the last one. She's handing her a cup to drink. It's poison. It's a trap. She's falling right into the trap. She drinks it. I can't see the woman's face, it's a blur…." Aphrodite's eye shot open like she had been electrocuted. She inhaled sharply and practically scrambled up the wall to get away from the fairy in front of her.

"Who?" Aspen asked with the little patience she had left.

Aphrodite curled her fist against her mouth, suppressing the vomit that threatened to come up. Her stomach churned so violently that she felt the foul, disgusting, repulsive stomach acid touching the back of her throat. The feeling made her gag. She retched, but nothing came up. Tears began to stream down her face as she trembled to make eye contact with Aspen.

"You," Aphrodite whispered.

.

(The Next Morning)

As the dim morning light filtered through the fog outside her window, Bella lay still in bed and tried to shake off the dream. There had been a small difference last night, and she concentrated on that.

Last night she had not been alone in the woods. Sam Uley—the man who had pulled her from the forest floor that night she couldn't bear to think of consciously—was there. It was an odd, unexpected alteration. The man's dark eyes had been surprisingly unfriendly, filled with some secret he didn't seem inclined to share. She'd stared at him as often as her frantic searching had allowed; it made her uncomfortable, under all the usual panic, to have him there. Maybe that was because, when she didn't look directly at him, his shape seemed to shiver and change in her peripheral vision. Yet he did nothing but stand and watch. Unlike the time when we had met in reality, he did not offer her his help.

Charlie stared at her during breakfast, and she tried to ignore him. She supposed she deserved it. She couldn't expect him not to worry. It would probably be weeks before he stopped watching for the return of the zombie, and she would just have to try to not let it bother her. After all, she would be watching for the return of the zombie, too. Two days was hardly long enough to call herself cured.

School was the opposite. Now that she was paying attention, it was clear that no one was watching here.

Bella remembered the first day she'd come to Forks High School—how desperately she'd wished that she could turn gray, fade into the wet concrete of the sidewalk like an oversized chameleon. It seemed she was getting that wish answered, a year late.

It was like she wasn't there. Even her teachers' eyes slid past her seat as if it were empty.

She listened all through the morning, hearing once again the voices of the people around her. She tried to catch up on what was going on, but the conversations were so disjointed that she gave up.

Jessica didn't look up when she sat down next to her in Calculus.

"Hey, Jess," Bella said with put-on nonchalance. "How was the rest of your weekend?"

She looked at her with suspicious eyes. Could she still be angry? Or was she just too impatient to deal with a crazy person?

"Super," she said, turning back to her book.

"That's good," Bella mumbled.

The figure of speech cold shoulder seemed to have some literal truth to it. She could feel the warm air blowing from the floor vents, but she was still too cold. She took the jacket off the back of her chair and put it on again.

Her fourth hour class got out late, and the lunch table she always sat at was full by the time she arrived. Mike was there, Jessica and Angela, Conner, Tyler, Eric and Lauren. Katie Marshall, the redheaded junior who lived around the corner from her, was sitting with Eric, and Austin Marks—older brother to the boy with the motorcycles—was next to her. Bella wondered how long they'd been sitting there, unable to remember if this was the first day or something that was a regular habit.

Bella was beginning to get annoyed with herself. She might as well have been packed in Styrofoam peanuts through the last semester.

No one looked up when she sat down next to Mike, even though the chair squealed stridently against the linoleum as she dragged it back.

She tried to catch up with the conversation.

Mike and Conner were talking sports, so she gave up on that one at once.

"Where's Ben today?" Lauren was asking Angela. Bella perked up, interested. She wondered if that meant Angela and Ben were still together.

She barely recognized Lauren. She'd cut off all her blond, corn-silk hair—now she had a pixie cut so short that the back was shaved like a boy. What an odd thing for her to do. Bella wished she knew the reason behind it. Did she get gum stuck in it? Did she sell it? Had all the people she was habitually nasty to caught her behind the gym and scalped her? Bella decided it wasn't fair for her to judge her now by her former opinion. For all she knew, she'd turned into a nice person.

"Ben's got the stomach flu," Angela said in her quiet, calm voice. "Hopefully it's just some twenty-four hour thing. He was really sick last night."

Angela had changed her hair, too. She'd grown out her layers.

"What did you two do this weekend?" Jessica asked, not sounding as if she cared about the answer. Bella had bet that this was just an opener so she could tell her own stories.

Bella wondered if she would talk about Port Angeles with her sitting two seats away? Was she that invisible, that no one would feel uncomfortable discussing her while she was here?

"We were going to have a picnic Saturday, actually, but... we changed our minds," Angela said. There was an edge to her voice that caught Bella's interest.

Jess, not so much. "That's too bad," she said, about to launch into her story. But Bella wasn't the only one who was paying attention.

"What happened?" Lauren asked curiously.

"Well," Angela said, seeming more hesitant than usual, though she was always reserved, "we drove up north, almost to the hot springs—there's a good spot just about a mile up the trail. But, when we were halfway there... we saw something."

"Saw something? What?" Lauren's pale eyebrows pulled together. Even Jess seemed to be listening now.

"I don't know," Angela said. "We think it was a bear. It was black, anyway, but it seemed... too big."

Lauren snorted. "Oh, not you, too!" Her eyes turned mocking, and Bella decided she didn't need to give her the benefit of the doubt. Obviously her personality had not changed as much as her hair. "Tyler tried to sell me that one last week."

"You're not going to see any bears that close to the resort," Jessica said, siding with Lauren.

"Really," Angela protested in a low voice, looking down at the table. "We did see it."

Lauren snickered. Mike was still talking to Conner, not paying attention to the girls.

"No, she's right," Bella threw in impatiently. "We had a hiker in just Saturday who saw the bear, too, Angela. He said it was huge and black and just outside of town, didn't he, Mike?"

There was a moment of silence. Every pair of eyes at the table turned to stare at her in shock. The new girl, Katie, had her mouth hanging open like she'd just witnessed an explosion. Nobody moved.

"Mike?" Bella muttered, mortified. "Remember the guy with the bear story?"

"S-sure," Mike stuttered after a second. She didn't know why he was looking at her so strangely. She talked to him at work, didn't she? Did she? She thought so...

Mike recovered. "Yeah, there was a guy who said he saw a huge black bear right at the trailhead—bigger than a grizzly," he confirmed.

"Hmph." Lauren turned to Jessica, her shoulders stiff, and changed the subject. "Did you hear back from USC?" she asked.

Everyone else looked away, too, except for Mike and Angela. Angela smiled at Bella tentatively, and she hurried to return the smile.

"So, what did you do this weekend, Bella?" Mike asked, curious, but oddly wary. Everyone but Lauren looked back, waiting for her response.

"Friday night, Jessica and I went to a movie in Port Angeles. And then I spent Saturday afternoon and most of Sunday down at La Push."

The eyes flickered to Jessica and back to Bella. Jess looked irritated. Bella wondered if she didn't want anyone to know she'd gone out with her, or whether she just wanted to be the one to tell the story.

"What movie did you see?" Mike asked, starting to smile.

"Dead End—the one with the zombies." Bella grinned in encouragement. Maybe some of the damage she'd done in these past zombie months was reparable.

"I heard that was scary. Did you think so?" Mike was eager to continue the conversation.

"Bella had to leave at the end, she was so freaked," Jessica inserted with a sly smile.

Bella nodded, trying to look embarrassed. "It was pretty scary."

Mike didn't stop asking her questions till lunch was over. Gradually, the others were able to start up their own conversations again, though they still looked at her a lot. Angela talked mostly to Mike and Bella, and, when Bella got up to dump her tray, she followed.

"Thanks," she said in a low voice when they were away from the table.

"For what?"

"Speaking up, sticking up for me."

"No problem."

She looked at her with concern, but not the offensive, maybe-she's-lost-it kind. "Are you okay?"

This was why she'd picked Jessica over Angela—though she'd always liked Angela more—for the girls' night movie. Angela was too perceptive.

"Not completely," Bella admitted. "But I'm a little bit better."

"I'm glad," she said. "I've missed you."

Lauren and Jessica strolled by us then, and she heard Lauren whisper loudly, "Oh, joy Bella's back."

Angela rolled her eyes at them, and smiled at her in encouragement.

Bella sighed. It was like she was starting all over again.

"What's today's date?" Bella wondered suddenly.

"It's January nineteenth."

"Hmm."

"What is it?" Angela asked.

"It was a year ago yesterday that I had my first day here," she mused.

"Nothing's changed much," Angela muttered, looking after Lauren and Jessica.

"I know," Bella agreed "I was just thinking the same thing."

*They were standing side by side, walking to class in comfortable silence until Bella took notice of how different Angela was when she wasn't engaged in conversation. Her mouth had a bruised look to it. Her eyes were purple underneath, like you get from not sleeping.

"I'm sorry I didn't come to the funeral," Bella said.

It had been sometime last week, when she was still trying to figure out how not to be a zombie. School had ended earlier than usual; that much she remembered. Charlie had attended the service, or so she thought. It was all a blur to her, but she still felt bad for not being there for Angela.

"It's OK." Angela worried her teeth on the bottom of her lip. It looked raw, like she'd been chewing on it a lot. "I didn't want to be there myself. Mom couldn't even handle being at the wake so she took Joshua home, and it was just my dad and I." She folded her arms over her chest tightly. "No one should see a coffin that small."

"How are your parents?"

"They're not taking it really well, but dad's just making it worse." Angela took a deep breath and stared at Bella. "He thinks it wasn't Isaac."

For a second, Bella didn't say anything. Neither of them did. But they didn't look away from each other. They had even realized that they had stopped in the middle of the hallway.

Bella could only nod. She was suddenly cold, goose bumps coming up her arms that had no correlation to the freezing cold weather. "Why does he think that?"

"He was the one who found Isaac. Kept saying that whatever died in the crib wasn't his son."

"Do….do you believe him?"

Angela stared off into the distance, her eyes wide and hurt and, for the first time, brimming with tears. "I don't know. It was Isaac laying in that coffin, but at the same time it wasn't. And I know that doesn't make any sense, but I can't explain it any other way. I know my brother, and whatever is in that box is not him, but something else with his face."

Bella didn't know what to say. She had never been good at handling others emotions. She could deal with miscellaneous, household things like paying bills, cooking and cleaning, but she knew that she lacked the skill to comfort people. It just wasn't her forte, but she wanted to be there for Angela because Bella knew how easily she'd get swept to the side. It had happened to her when her vacations had been split up between her parents, it had happened when Grandma Swan had died, and the same thing occurred when Renée married Phil. No one had cared to listen to Bella about what she thought and how she felt. It wasn't a good feeling, and then to top it all off, Angela's father was planting seeds of craziness into his daughter's head to make the grieving process all the more overwhelming for her. Bella couldn't imagine what a wreck Angela's mind was.

Bella took a deep breath and said, "Have you tried talking to the school counselor yet? Maybe it'd be good to talk to a stranger."

She tried to ignore the look of betrayal in Angela's eyes. She wanted Angela to know that she would be there for her, but did she honestly expect Bella to believe in the nonsense her father was sprouting? Her brother died—and both Angela and her father needed professional help if they thought that the body they had buried wasn't Isaac.

And maybe it was hypothetical on Bella's end. She had acted like a zombie for months all because a boy—who was really a vampire—had dumped her. Bella could admit that she had allowed herself get sucked into the wonders of the Cullen's lifestyle, of what they were, and she had neglected the fact that she still was human who needed to be around other humans. Maybe he had been right. Maybe they were only meant to be predator and prey.

"I didn't mean it like that, Angie," Bella said. "I just don't want you to end up like me."

Angela nodded her head and looked down at her shoes. Bella could see that Angela understood what she meant, and because of that, Angela told her something else, so hoarse and low that it was almost a whisper. "There was a girl at the funeral. No one knew who she was. She came up to me after the service had been over and she told me something."

"What did she tell you?"

Angela made a fist. "That if I didn't get my dad to shut up, something's going to happen to him."

Bella's eyes widen. That hadn't been what she expected to hear at all. "Did you tell my dad?"

Angela shook her head. "I don't know why I didn't. I wanted to, but I just couldn't." She whipped her head around and stared into Bella's eyes pleadingly. "Bella, you can't tell your dad anything. Please, don't. It could get my dad killed."

Bella let out a breath in a long, pressurized sigh. "I won't tell Charlie," she promised when Angela started to tear up again. She couldn't ignore the burning sensation in her throat, though. Somehow, the promise was going to come back and bite her in the ass. She just knew it. "What did she look like?"

"I can't remember," Angela said in a strange tone. "My memory of her is foggy, but there's one thing about her that stood out. It was her eyes. They looked like a diamond; clean cut and sharp—like an actual diamond, but there was an odd mix of white and blue in them. I just remember that she had strange eyes."

A chill ran down from the top of Bella's head and poured down through her chest and arms. She knew exactly who Angela was talking about.

She had tried to forget about the incident in the gym a few nights ago. In fact, she hadn't thought of the stranger since then and she found that to be odd. Who just randomly forgets about a gorgeous girl who tried to use mind control to get a kiss? But that wasn't even the strangest part. Bella had sworn she had seen the girl before, but she just couldn't remember where. There was something familiar about the stranger that called out to her.

And Bella desperately wanted to know who she was.

Responses:

Ali: Thank you, I hope you enjoy this chapter.

natcityjp: Bella will definitely find someone new! Thanks for the review.

Information/Credits/Disclaimers:

—All characters and events belong to Stephenie Meyer and to the publisher, Little, Brown and Company. Events from the movie(s) belong to the production and distribution companies.

—The first half of the chapter was inspired by Chapter Ten of The Vampire Diaries: The Awakening: Volume 1 written by L. J. Smith. Aspen's character is similar to Damon Salvatore because book Damon was so much better than TV Damon. That's my opinion at least.

—T'ist'ilal or Tistilal, in the Quileute language, is the Thunderbird. It is an important figure throughout Northwest Coast mythology. In Quileute, its name is pronounced similar to tiss-tih-lall. The Thunderbird is described by the Quileutes as a bird large enough to carry a whale in its claws, whose beating wings make thunder.

—Nora Black is the oldest sister of Billy, Emmie, Jennie and Connie Black, the daughter of Judith Peterson and William Black, Sr, the sister-in-law of Kevin Littlesea, and the aunt of Rachel, Rebecca and Jacob Black, and Collin Littlesea. It is not known if she is still alive during the events of the Twilight series.

—Q'wati (also spelled K'wati, Kweheti, Kwatee, Q'waeti, K'wa'iti, Qati, Kwati, Qwati, K'wa'iti, and several other ways.) is the benevolent culture hero of Quileute legends, frequently referred to in English as the Transformer. His name is pronounced similar to kwatt-ee, only the "k" is pronounced further back in the throat than English "k" and with a catch in the throat after it. The same character is called Dukwibal or Dokibatt in the Puget Sound Salish tribes, Xelas or Haylas in the Coast Salish tribes, and Misp' or Musp in the Quinault tribe. Q'wati is usually credited with creating the Quileute Indian tribe and their neighbors, teaching them right behavior and cultural skills, and protecting them by changing the environment and getting rid of monsters.

—Pixies (also piskies, pisgies, pigsies and west country fairies) are mythical creatures of folklore, considered to be particularly concentrated in the areas of Devon, Somerset and Cornwall in southern England, suggesting a Celtic origin for the belief and the name. In Devon, pixies are said to be "invisibly small, and harmless or friendly to man." However, pixies are also seen as being malicious tricksters who enjoy playing pranks on people.
They may steal humans' belongings, or throw pots and pans after kitchen girls.

—The Mannegishi (singular the same) are a race of trickster people in Cree folklore, similar in nature to the Memegwesi of the Ojibwa. They are described as semi-humanoid, being sexdactylous humans with very thin and lanky arms and legs and big heads minus a nose. According to one Cree schema of the mythology, there are two humanoid races, one being the familiar human species and the other being the "little people", i.e. Mannegishi. These people are said to live between rocks in the rapids. One of their biggest delights—a completely non-heroic form of trickster behavior—is to crawl out of the rocks and capsize the canoes of people canoeing through the rapids, spinning them to their death.

—The Mannegishi has attracted interest in recent years due to its possible cryptozoological connections. It is believed by some that the Dover Demon represents a modern sighting of the Mannegishi.

—I could not find a word or anything close to what the Quileute call the "little people." The Native peoples of North America told legends of a race of "little people" who lived in the woods near sandy hills and sometimes near rocks located along large bodies of water, such as the Great Lakes.

—By legend, the Quileutes only kindred, the Chimakum Tribe, were washed away by flood and deposited near present-day Port Townsend (where they lived until Chief Seattle's Suquamish Tribe wiped them out in the 1860s), leaving the Quileutes with no known relatives on earth. Quileutes were thus were surrounded by unrelated tribes, the Makah—Nuh-Chul-Nuth who migrated down from the west coast of Vancouver Island; S'Klallam to the northeast along the Strait of Juan de Fuca; and Quinault, south at Taholah, both descended from the Salishan. Relations with these groups allowed trade, intermarriage of nobility, and the ostentatious ceremony—the potlatch—an honoring giveaway celebration and redistribution of wealth. Occasionally, however, controversy over trespassing caused outbursts of warfare or slave raiding.

—Ho-kwats, White Drifting-House people.

—In Scotland, Ireland and Europe iron keeps away mischievous and malicious fairies.

—Blackberry stems, ivy and boxwood are known to be protection herbs that ward off evil spirits.

—Aphrodite LaFont is a main character in the House of Night Series, and is an Oracle and Prophetess. Originally, she is an enemy of Zoey Redbird. However, later in the series, the pair become more friendly, and Aphrodite is shown in a kinder light, although she is still sarcastic and sometimes hateful.

—Street Cats is a rescue charity for homeless cats. In the House of Night Series, the Benedictine Sisters have run and owned Street Cats for two years when Zoey Redbird, Aphrodite LaFont, and Darius visit in Untamed. Sister Mary Angela is the nun in charge of most things here.

—If you would like to learn more about the real life Street Cats organization, please visit: www . streetcatstulsa (you obviously remove the spaces when typed into the search bar.)

—Maleficent is Aphrodite's cat. She is big white "puff ball" according to Aphrodite, Maleficent is a purebred Persian. Maleficent chose Aphrodite while working at Street Cats in Tulsa.

—Sister Mary Angela first appears in Untamed as a nun and the owner of Street Cats. In Hunted, it is revealed she is Spirit to banish Kalona and joins Zoey at the end to help her do so.

—Darius is a warrior in the House of Night series and is in a relationship with Aphrodite.

—Nerd herd is a term Aphrodite came up with to describe Zoey's group of friends. Ironically, because Aphrodite is a friend of Zoey as well, she's a member of the 'nerd herd' too.

—I did not choose the name Aspen on a whim. It actually has meaning behind it that coincides with the story and the character. The Latin name for aspen is 'populus tremula' meaning trembling poplar because the leaves of the aspen appear to tremble in the wind. In Celtic mythology this visual effect was said to be the tree communicating between this world and the next.

—The quivering leaves helped the wind speak with the ancestors while also bearing gifts of inspiration and poetry. For these reasons the aspen was sometimes known as the whispering tree, a sacred tree to the Celts.

—The Celts chose the lightweight wood of the aspen tree to make their shields which were thought to protect them from spiritual more than physical harm. Crowns of aspen or poplar leaves have been found in ancient burial grounds thought to be there in order to aid the dead on their path to rebirth.

—In Scotland, as a fairy tree, the aspen had taboos similar to the extremely sacred rowan tree. To cut one down was akin to killing your fellow man.

—Fun fact (or morbid fact depending on your opinion): The Christians, in their opposition to the old pagan ways, had a tendency to change any sacred tree's reputation from magical to evil. So, like several other trees, the aspen was said to have provided the wood for the cross at the crucifixion. Its trembling leaves were the result of the tree shuddering in shame at the memory of this. So feared and hated the aspen became that even up to recent times people could be seen throwing stones at the tree.

— "...Until she'd met Darius, she hadn't let anyone get close enough to her for it to matter whether [they] lied to her or not. She'd been sure she'd lied to them first. Cheated on them first. Broken up with them first."—Aphrodite LaFont, Redeemed

—A fairy (also fata, fay, fey, fae, fair folk; from faery, faerie, "realm of the fays") is a type of mythical being or legendary creature in European folklore, a form of spirit, often described as metaphysical, supernatural, or preternatural.

—Fairy Folk can assume almost any size and form they like, from tiny to huge. While some prefer to look like extraordinarily beautiful people, other will freely mix human, animal and even plant features in bizarre and fanciful combinations; hence Aspen's otherworldly beauty, her silver skin, dragonfly-like wings, the antlers on her head (as described in chapter one), the unknown language written on her skin, and the glow that outlines her frame.

—The Pythia was the name of the High Priestess of the Temple of Apollo at Delphi who also served as the oracle, commonly known as the Oracle of Delphi.

—Nyx was the Greek goddess of night, one of the primordial gods who emerged as the dawn of creation. In the House of Night series, Nyx is the Goddess of the vampyres.

—The asterisk (*) at the end of this chapter is to indicate the part that was not written by Stephenie Meyer in Chapter 6: Friends of New Moon. It was added in by yours truly.

—This chapter was not overlooked by a beta.

If you liked this chapter, please favorite this story and review. It would be very helpful to get the next chapter going.

Until next time.