CHAPTER ONE:

From Immortal Blood

Leaves rustled overhead, scratching against each other like nails on a chalkboard, as Evelyn made her way through the thick trees of the Washington peninsula. The sound made her cringe and clench her jaw tightly as if that might make the screeching stop or at least more bearable. Her fingers worked diligently to clasp themselves around thin folds of faded yellow, vinyl fabric, attempting to pull the edges of the broken zipper on her rain jacket closer together to keep the cold away, but holding her arms close to her body threw off her already shaky balance, and when she fell there was nothing to break her fall.

Evelyn looked up, half expecting to see the bare tops of the trees come alive like decaying corpse-like hands that wanted to chase her away for trespassing on the sereneness of the woods. She couldn't help but feel as if she was not welcome here. Who would want someone like her around? The sky was a deep shade of grey, ominous and angry at her as it hung overhead, like a looming shadow, chasing her from the brightly lit, sun-filled past, and into a dark and unknown future. But it was her fault. She was the monster after all.

The tightly packed wooden tree trunks made her wandering journey slow, even with her above average speed. Evelyn, who looked about seven, somehow knew her legs made her faster; somehow they carried her farther in much less time than other children her age. She had recognized the things that made her different from other kids, the things that set her apart, growing up in the orphanage, and that's when she began understanding what she was, the creature she had become, and at the same time she started hating herself for it.

Evelyn Smith was named after no-one in particular as far as she knew—Evelyn because those were the words she heard frantically whispered as she was ripped wildly from the womb by the cold hands of the male vampire that turned her mother from human to monster. Just as the venom began to course through Evelyn's unborn body she had been torn from her mother, allowing the change to heal her mother's fresh wounds, but not before some of the venom could take hold and alter Evelyn's very existence forever.

She was human in every way possible—except in the ways that she was part vampire—but Smith seemed like an appropriate surname. It was common and simple but most of all it was inconspicuous. It wouldn't draw attention to her angelic like features, or pale complexion. It made people pass over the fact her brilliant green eyes were forever tainted with a ring of crimson, as deep and red as a ruby. It would hide the abnormalities in the way she spoke, or thought, cloaking her advanced intellect. Her mind was so quick and observant that she could remember the first hours of her birth with vivid clarity. She could recall long passages from literary works and do large problem sums in her head. Evelyn could devour large books with small print in an hour if left undisturbed. The only thing about her that did not seem to betray the person Evelyn was trying to be was the fact she appeared to age in the same way a normal child would. Most of the time.

Her mother had fled from the horrific scene of her human death and then shortly after her vampire rebirth, with her new mate clinging to her arm. Without even a look or concerned gesture she left Evelyn to perish in the cold Vermont winter. Why did she just leave her to die? If she was so stone-hearted and cruel why had her mother not just killed her like vampires kill humans and disposed of her tiny body? There was no real reason to explain this, as Evelyn had not been in contact with her mother ever. She didn't know if she was alive or if she had been killed by a stronger and more ferocious beast. And even if her mother was alive, Evelyn doubted that she even remembered the daughter she had left behind.

Evelyn's saving grace had arrived in the form of an elderly hiker who, by happenstance, had been following the sound of somewhat musical childlike whimpers through the snow until he came upon the tiny swaddled bundle. At six days old she had been left by the hiker and his wife, both too old to start a family, at St. Andrews Hospital for Sick Children. From there a stout, cheery cheeked social worker had placed Evelyn with a foster family: a young couple dying to be parents to a little girl with green eyes and a cherub-like face. And though these people did not know her or where she came from, they loved her.

But at six months Evelyn made a mistake that still haunted her nightmares each night. As she lied against her mother's shoulder, being gently rocked to sleep, the sweet smell of blood that always lingered against her mother's skin became too overwhelming. Evelyn, with barely her front teeth (though they were incredibly sharp), sunk her face into the crook of her mother's neck, letting the sweet blood fill her mouth. A bone chilling scream ripped from her foster mother as she dropped Evelyn on the bed, clasping a shaking hand over the fresh wound. Immediately the gash began to heal but it was too late to stop the inevitable.

Her mother died in the hospital three days later, her condition unfamiliar to the doctors who worked tirelessly to try and save her. And that's when Evelyn discovered that she was not only venomous but toxic. She could not turn humans into vampires, because her venom simply killed them. And the blood that smelt and tasted so good to Evelyn was her own brand of poison. It wreaked havoc on Evelyn's small body, setting her limbs on fire, making her shudder and shake until her foster dad, who was grief stricken and had very little child rearing experience, could no longer care for the part-vampire hybrid that was quickly changing before his eyes.

Not only did the blood make Evelyn physically sick, it mutated her human cells. It was as if she had been put in a time machine that was stuck on fast forward. She experienced accelerated growth. In a period of two days she aged what could only be observed as six months. Wrought with the grief of losing his wife, her foster dad failed to comprehend her miraculous change, as the now twelve month old Evelyn, who could walk and babble, was returned to the foster system.

After several more mysterious deaths and two more experiences of accelerated growth Evelyn was placed in an orphanage, being labeled a problem child, where she spent three years around wild, wide-eyed children, teaching herself to be disciplined around the tantalizing smell of blood. As much as she craved it, she knew her body would reject it and slowly Evelyn was able to blend in, almost well enough that she seemed invisible, sitting for hours by the second story window of the orphanage, just waiting for something to happen: anything that would make the mundanely insignificant hours of her days pass with a little more purpose. That something did happen, and her name was Beth: a scrawny, freckle-faced eleven year old with knobbly knees and a space between her front teeth. Gap-tooth Beth, the kids at the orphanage called her.

It was a sunny afternoon, the kind the kids liked because the caretakers would take them to the park. There were all sorts of children around—old, young, some with parents and some without. Beth was arguing with a boy about saving spots in line for the monkey bars. It all happened so fast, the boy threw his hands out and Beth slid across the asphalt, turning her knobbly knees and the palms of her hands into a bloody mess of skin that looked as if it had been peeled with a cheese grater. It was only when the tears erupted from Beth's eyes, shattering Evelyn's concentration that she realized she had moved from her spot on the swing set to hovering above Beth, her mouth-watering with venom and saliva.

As soon as she reigned in her bloodlust, Evelyn sprinted, without any concern for the human eyes that were following her inhuman movements. She sprinted from the park, deep into the surrounding forests, knowing she could never return. She could never put those kids in danger. She was a monster. A blood thirsty monster that was capable of killing. How could she have been so careless? So reckless? Evelyn ran and ran until her breath failed her. She collapsed on her knees, clutching her chest through whimpered sobs.

The ground was soft and warm, heated by the August sun. Slowly she pushed herself up from the soft grass and began to walk. She had started walking and for four months had not stopped, except to sleep and of course eat, whenever she had the opportunity to steal a piece of fruit or a loaf of bread from a local market or the outside of a small shop vendor.

Evelyn had been wandering aimlessly, staying as far away from the human population as she could, her new purpose in life to protect them from the blood-hungry creature she could become, but the journey had made her weak and frail, almost a walking corpse of skin and bones. And now, as the wind began to whip around her thin limbs, the frigidly cold November air biting at parts of her unclothed skin, she knew she needed shelter. And that's when a secluded house, with tall, floor to ceiling windows and an armada of expensive vehicles parked in the driveway came into view. It wasn't exactly what she had been hoping for. She might be asking for trouble, but it was her only hope for protection from the cold, especially since a thick band of heavy snow clouds had settled in the sky above her in the small town of Forks, Washington.