Twilight: Revenge

[Kitulean]

Actual fans of the book series should keep walking to your next fic, because you probably aren't going to like this one. This is not Twilight as written by a fan, it is Twilight as written by someone who loathes the series and pretty much everything in it. It's the result of a bet with a friend that I could take the basic concept of Twilight, horrible as it is, and make it more interesting. Whether I succeeded or not… well, that's for others to judge.


Disclaimer: Nothing but nothing belongs to me. And thank god, because I don't think I could take being responsible for writing what's in these books. I mean seriously. I feel dirty.

Prologue

"Hi, good to meet you, I'm Isabella Swan."

The bedroom that the seventeen year old girl stood in was dark, save for the light from the computer monitor that illuminated her slim form as she stood in front of the mirror attached to the back of the closed door. Her hair was dark and fell just past her shoulders, and she wore only a robe.

 After considering what she had said for a moment, the girl shook her head and changed her tone slightly, sounding less average and more like a stereotypical valley girl.

"So like, hey there, my name's Isabella. But they call me Isa, like, you can only say half my name? What's up with that?"

Her eyes rolled and she made a face, correcting her tone again to sound much more shy and demure. Her eyes kept flicking between the mirror and the floor, as though she was having trouble holding eye contact with the person she was talking. "Umm… Isabella. I… th-that's my name, I mean. I'm Isabella Swan. Um, I'm supposed to go here."

A thoughtful look crossed the girl's eyes and she filed that one away as a possible. Yet it still wasn't quite perfect. There was something off about it, and this, all of it, had to be perfect. It was the role of a lifetime, a role she could afford absolutely no mistakes on. There would be no second chances.

Her brown eyes flicked toward the desk where the laptop was set up, and an almost imperceptible swallow escaped the girl. She stepped that way, drawn almost reluctantly toward the newspaper there. Her hand reached out and gently brushed the picture on the front page, the photo of the smiling man with the mustache.

The headline screamed, 'FORKS CHIEF OF POLICE SLAIN IN ANIMAL ATTACK'. It was dated two months earlier, before she had convinced her mother that they had to move out here, to where her father had lived, to where he had died. Her mother had argued, but when she put her mind to something, she usually ended up getting it.

She had put her mind toward a goal that was so far out of reach as to be completely absurd. But she was going to reach it. Somehow, someway, she would do what she had to.

Breathing out, Isabella reached out to touch the laptop's trackpad. She flicked the cursor toward the already open video and tapped it.

Her father appeared on the screen, looking much more distressed than he did in the newspaper photo. He was clearly sweating, and appeared to have taken the video while sitting fully clothed in his empty bathtub. "Hey Izzy, it's me again." Charlie Swan seemed to flinch at a noise off camera, and stared off into the distance for a long moment before he went on. "It's me. I don't know if they've realized how much I know yet. They could be… they could be on their way here. They could be here. I don't… I can't… I'm sending you these messages to warn you, Izzy-baby, I know we don't see each other much, but you've gotta know. These creatures, these things, you have to stay away from them. You have to know how to recognize them, if you can--"

She had seen all of this before. Isabella moved the time on the video forward. When she stopped, her father had moved the camera even closer to himself. His voice was a harsh whisper, "Volturi, they're the ones that enforce the secret. There's five of them, five of their royal court. Five of the worst god damn monsters--"

She fast forwarded again, passing what she'd seen over and over again. Finally, she reached the very end of the video.

"I want to get rid of them, they need to die."  Charlie Swan looked tired, and oh so defeated. "But I don't think I can. I don't think anyone can. They know I know something, and it's only a matter of time before they do something about it. Only a matter of time. But you have to know, I have to tell you. Stay away from them. Stay away from them, baby. I told you what to look out for, and now you just stay away. I did what I could, but nothing can kill these things, they're invincible. I think--"

Isabella stopped the video. Her eyes closed, and a tear fell, staining her cheek. "Dad…" She said out loud, a shudder running through her. Fifteen, sixteen times she had watched this, and it never failed to make her cry. He had so wanted to keep her safe, even when he was so close to being killed, murdered, he had done everything he could to warn her about what he had seen.

She stood still for several minutes, hugging herself as tears fell and her shoulders shook. Finally, she breathed in, then out again before straightening. Her eyes stared at the screen, at her father's face.

Then she turned away from the laptop and faced the mirror once more. A smile appeared, looking perfectly natural. "Isabella…" She trailed off. No. If she was going to do this, if she was going to become what she needed to become to pull this off, then she couldn't be Isabella. Isabella was an actress, a comedian, lover of life and everything in it.

No. That would do nothing to help her cause now; nothing to make sure her father's killers got what was coming to them. She had to change herself.

Her eyes closed just a little, and she let her body language sag. Not enough to be defined as lazy, but just enough not to be proper posture. The expression on her face dulled. First she frowned, then she smiled, then she found a neutral and completely unremarkable halfway point. She showed no emotion, she looked half dead, like nothing in the world mattered, like she didn't care.

When she spoke, her voice was dull. Not bored, just… emotionless, as if she was reading from a script. Correction, as if she was a terrible actress  who cared absolutely nothing about what she was doing, reading from a script. "Hey. I'm Bella."

She repeated this several times, until she was certain that she had the tone and the inflection right. She had to give no emotion, no actual personality of her own. She had to let nothing of who she actual was shine through, so that her eventual target could easily 'paste' whatever personality they preferred into the blank slate that she left their imagination. She had to leave herself devoid of actual substance so that whichever of the creatures she found first could believe that they saw exactly what they wanted to see in her. She would be blank clay.

"I'm Bella." She said again, staring through the mirror with half lidded eyes. She didn't look bored so much as she looked boring. Utterly and completely boring.  Perfect.

Turning away from the mirror, she walked back to the computer and pressed play once more, to hear her father's last words.

"I think the only thing that could kill them would be another one of their own kind. The only thing that can kill a vampire… is another vampire. And that, well, that just ain't gonna happen." He paused, staring into the camera for a moment before speaking even more softly. "I love you, Bells. If I never get to say it again, I love you."

He hadn't gotten to say it again. He had never had another chance. They hadn't given him one. Whoever, whichever of those things that had killed him for knowing too much hadn't let him say another word to his daughter.

She played a few specific seconds over one more time, while staring intently at her father's image.

"The only thing that can kill a vampire… is another vampire. And that, well, that just ain't gonna happen."

If the only thing that could kill a vampire was another vampire, then she would make it happen. She would make all of them pay, every last one of those monsters, those things that had killed her daddy.

Even if she had to completely reinvent herself, become the kind of blank slate that any one of these vampires could latch onto. Even if she had to pretend to love them, pretend to worship and adore them for months, or if it came down to it, years. She would do anything, absolutely anything, if it meant that one day, that vampire lover that believed he held so much control over her, that he actually knew her, let his guard down and made her into one of them.

She didn't care how long it took, or what she had to do. Eventually, someday, it would happen. It would happen because she was a very, very good actress. And then, once she was one of their kind, one of the vampires?

Again, she played that part of the video.

"The only thing that can kill a vampire… is another vampire."

They had killed her father, and in exchange, she would kill every last one of them.

[Kitulean]

Chapter One


"All right, Isabella--" The woman seated behind the extra-long desk in the main office of Forks High School (Home of the Spartans, whoo!) tapped at the keyboard of her ancient computer a few times before snatching the pages that emerged from the nearby printer and neatly stapled them together in a move as practiced as any gunslinger. "Here is your class schedule."


Isabella let the woman extend the papers all the way across the desk before reaching out to take them. "I prefer Bella, actually." She said, carefully giving her tone and expression just the right amount of teenage scorn, as if clearly what she wanted was far more important than anyone else, yet without being outright rude. It was a look that the secretary would have seen on the faces of dozens of students just that week, and thus it was a look that ensured that she would forget anything specific about Isabella Swan the moment the girl left the office. She was neither shy, nor boisterous. She wasn't nice enough to be noted as a friend, nor was she rude enough to be counted as one to watch out for. She just… was.


"Well then, Bella Swan." The secretary gave her an empty smile that meant nothing. "Since you were late, I believe you need one of my busy little helpers to escort you to your first class, hmm?" She began to look over the group of three students who were apparently office aides in the morning.


"Oh, oh!" A smaller girl, who barely topped five feet, bounced to her feet from where she had been texting. "I can show her where to go, Ms. Carmen." The girl smiled eagerly, giving off infectious enthusiasm.  Her wild, curly brown hair worked with her smile to make her seem somehow bigger than she was.


The secretary, Ms. Carmen, nodded. "Thank you, Jessica. Go right ahead, Bella. You're in good hands. Sometimes I think Miss Stanley here spends more time in the school than I do."


Jessica Stanley's beaming smile redoubled, nearly outshining the lights. "Only because I haven't figured out how to be near as productive in half the time like you, Ms. Carmen."


Isabella put the schedule that the woman gave her under an arm and then walked to the door with the other girl. She counted three steps before looking back to say, "Thanks." Three steps, because to say it immediately would be too nice, one or two steps might still be thought of as eager to please, and any more than three would have her remembered as rude. Three steps was still within the realm of 'nice', but clearly forgettable. Then she followed the enthusiastic girl through the door and into the hall.


The pair had barely reached the hallway, just out of sight from those in the office, when Jessica quickly caught hold of Isabella's jacket and pulled her several quick steps toward the nearby bathroom. She all but dragged the taller girl within, and then bent to check under the stalls before turning back to hiss, "What do you think you're doing here? Why are you here?"


It clicked after a moment. "It's you, isn't it?" Isabella raised an eyebrow. "I thought I recognized your voice."


Jessica sighed. "Right, okay, I called you. I told you how to get to the messages from your father, but it wasn't supposed to make you move here! Are you crazy? Do you have any idea what your father went through to make sure you were safe? If he knew you came here…"


"But he doesn't." Isabella said flatly. "He can't, because they killed him."


The other girl sighed, deflating a little. "I know, but what he did… Look, your father knew he was going to die, he knew no one could save him, but he wanted you to be safe. He convinced us, the rest of us, to do what we could to make you safe. And now you come here, right into the vampire nest? He'd completely lose his mind."


"According to my dad, the vampires can't use their powers on me." Isabella told her. "None of their special abilities will work."


"Well, no." Jessica agreed, shaking her head. "None of the X-Men stuff is going to do anything. No telepathy, no throwing electricity at you, nothing. But they don't need those extra powers to punch your head off! You're still human, Isabella!"


"Bella." She corrected the girl. "You have to get used to calling me Bella. It's a better name for the person I have to be to make this work. And I know I'm still human."


Jessica's eyes searched hers for a long moment, before widening. "Oh my god." She stared in shock. "You want them to change you. Damn it, Bella, are you insane?!"


"Yes!" Isabella shot back. "I am insane. You know why I'm insane? Because vampires murdered my father!" She kept her voice low, hissing her last words. "They killed him, and I am going to do whatever I have to do to make them pay for it. No matter what. My father said that the only thing that can kill a vampire is another vampire. Do you have another option? Do you know another way?"


For a long moment, it looked as though Jessica wanted nothing more than to say that she did. Instead, eventually, she sighed and shook her head. Her voice was soft and reluctant with the admission. "No, I don't know another way of killing them. If I did, if any of us did, we would have told your father."


Isabella hesitated before bringing her hand up to touch the other girl's shoulder. "You cared about him, didn't you?"


Jessica nodded, breathing in and then out heavily. "He was the chief of police. He protected us. He protected me, or he tried to. He didn't deserve any of that. He was a good guy. I… I wanted him to be safe. I wanted to protect him, when he was in trouble. But he made us leave. He was afraid they'd see us, and that they'd realize…"


"I know." Isabella nodded as she spoke quietly. "I know you wanted to help, because you cared about him. He was the chief of police, he was your friend, he was your protector…" She trailed off and met the other girl's gaze before adding pointedly yet as gently as possible. "And he was my father."


Eyes closing for a moment, Jessica remained quiet before giving one last clearly feeble protest. "If you make this happen, you're throwing your life away."


"Not really." Isabella shrugged. "Vampires tend to live a lot longer than humans."


The other girl's eyes remained closed, as she thought about everything. "You know what I mean, Bella. You won't be able to grow up, you'll be a teenager forever."


Isabella smiled just a little, trying to inject her voice with a note of enthusiasm to avoid upsetting the girl who was just trying to help.  "Hey, I can pass for being in my early twenties, no problem. And being eternally in your early twenties is not exactly an enormous burden, Jess."


"I have to do this. You know I have to. He's my father. I can't let them get away with this. Not this time. Not this person. Someone has to hold them accountable."


Jessica bit her lip. "It has to be you?"


Isabella's response was as resigned as it was firm. "It has to be someone."


Finally, Jessica's eyes opened and she met her gaze. A sort of determination had come into her expression, as though it had taken her time to accept this, but now that she had, she was going to follow through. "Okay, how can I help?"


Eyebrows arching, Isabella managed a smile. "You're going to help me become a vampire?"


The other girl's head shook. "I'm helping you destroy them. If helping you become one of them is the only way to do that, then that's what we'll do."


Still smiling, Isabella raised her hand, making a fist as she offered it to the other girl. "We are a tiny conspiracy, and if they find out anything, we are going to die."


"Eh," Jessica shrugged and then raised her own hand to press her fist against Isabella's. "Who wants to live forever? Ohhh wait, that's like, Plan A for you."


Unable to help the tiny giggle that escaped her, Isabella nodded. "Okay, so it is. I could use your help with one thing already, come to think of it."


Jessica's head tilted curiously. "What's that?"


"Well," Isabella considered her request. "I need the vampires to notice me. I thought I was going to have to do it all on my own, but…"


Getting it, Jessica nodded. "You want me to help it along."


"Yes." Isabella lowered her hands to her sides and breathed out. "I know it took your entire group to use my dad's death to block vampiric powers from working against me. This time I just need you, Jess. I need you to make my blood smell so good to vampires that they'll think a full course steak dinner just walked in. That should be within the power of one witch."

[Kitulean]

Chapter Two
 
"So what exactly are people hearing us say right now?" Isabella walked alongside Jessica through the school hallway. She spoke in a regular tone of voice at the other girl's insistence that she could use a spell that would prevent their conversation from being overheard. Quite useful, that.
 
Jessica smiled slyly as they passed a group of jocks posing in front of their lockers. Her gaze lingered a little before she answered, "They think I'm telling you about the Chinese restaurant in town."
 
"Which one?" Isabella asked, reflexively. "In case I need to know later."
 
The witch shook her head and chuckled. "Honey, this is Forks. The Chinese Restaurant. That's it. Your dad wasn't exactly Chief of Detroit."
 
Isabella muttered under her breath, "Might've been safer there." She sighed then before looking to the other girl. "What about telepathy? You said that at least one of the vampires has it.  I'm immune, thanks to Dad and you witches, but what about you? How can witches hide their thoughts about being witches?"
 
"Edward, the one you're about to see." The girl confirmed. "And oh please," Jessica's eyes rolled. "Vampiric telepathy is a joke. They only get surface thoughts, and a witch can change her surface thoughts to whatever we want. We decide what they get. Think of your immunity as a brick wall. They can't sense anything, but they know they can't. You'll be a curiosity. Witches just make them hear whatever thoughts we want them to."
 
"So you're more powerful," Isabella said slowly. "But you can't kill them."
 
"They're dead things." The young witch explained. "Witches only work with living things. For the most part, I can only create, not destroy. Vampires are outside of our influence."
 
"I guess that means you can't just create a fireball and nuke them?" Isabella wondered.
 
Jessica's head shook. "Sorry, doesn't work that way. I mean, I could make fire but it's still not an instant kill. The thing about a vampire is that they're super-fast, and if you set them on fire, they'll just sprint and put it out. Sure it'll hurt, but not enough. And the instant I did anything like that, the vampire would know. So that scenario starts with me using all my power to set the vampire on fire, progresses to them running for about half a second to put it out, and ends with my head and limbs in six or seven separate locations. Our main advantage is the vampires not knowing about us. Witches, I mean. But you know, not knowing about you is a pretty big advantage too, on your end."
 
"And this blood thing you did," Isabella barely resisted the urge to lift her own hand and sniff it. It might have looked a bit too strange. "You're sure that'll do the trick."
 
"It's exactly what you asked for." Jessica confirmed with a nod. "Your blood is now vampire catnip. I really hope you know what you're doing, because I've seen cats go after catnip, and I do not want to imagine vampires acting that crazy." She paused before giggling a little. "Okay, maybe I do. That's funny." 
 
Isabella smiled a little about that for a minute as they walked through the hall. Finally, she spoke again. "Okay, this one you've really got to settle my curiosity about. The vampires, do they really sparkle in the sunlight? Because that is just the stupidest **** I've ever heard. If there's one thing my dad was wrong about, tell me it's that they don’t really sparkle. I don't know if I can take Count Glitterfangs seriously."
 
"Take them seriously." Jessica told her. "Glitter or not, they're dangerous. But to answer the question… sort of."  She held a hand up to forestall questions. "It's more complicated than that. See, a vampire doesn't just sparkle in the sun. The truth is, they can only survive a little bit of direct sunlight at a time."
 
"So they are hurt by the sun then?" Isabella asked, raising an eyebrow.
 
The witch shook her head. "Yes and no. Like I said, they can take some direct sun. It's something like one minute of sunlight for every like, five years or so that they've been a vampire. After that much, they have to stay out of the sun for about ten minutes for every one minute they were in it. So a hundred and fifty year old vampire could be in the sun for thirty minutes, but then they'd have to get out of the sun for five hours to be, well, fully charged, I guess you could call it."
 
"What does that have to do with the sparkle thing?" Isabella asked after considering what that meant. Maybe she could trap a vampire in the sunlight? But as strong as they were supposed to be, trapping them wouldn't be easy.
 
"It's like an evolutionary tool or something." Jessica answered. "The vampire can stay in the sun because of an invisible, micro-thin shield that forms to protect them from it. The strength of the shield depends on their age, like I said. So when the shield is almost gone, it sort of… glows. It reflects the light going into it, as a last ditch effort. The reflected light from the shield going out is that 'sparkle'. So when a vampire sparkles in the light, it means their sun shield is almost gone, and they're about to be really hurt by the sun. It's like a last moment warning glow. Like I said, evolutionary advantage."
 
"That…" Isabella smiled, "is very good to know."
 
*********************************************************************
 
After Jessica left her in front of her first period class, which happened to be History, Isabella took a breath before opening the door and stepping inside. This would be the first real test. According to Jessica, that Edward vamp was in here.
 
The teacher stood at the front of the class, almost directly across from the door. He was a thin, balding man in his late forties. According to her schedule, his name was Mr. Becken.
 
"And if Franz Ferdinand's driver had not taken a wrong turn, had Gavrilo Princip not just happened to--" The man interrupted himself when Isabella stepped inside. "Ah, this must be our new arrival. I thought you might have gotten lost. Class, this is Isabella Swan, the ahhh, daughter of our tragically departed Chief of Police. She and her mother just moved back here."
 
"Bella." She corrected him, raising a hand a little awkwardly, stopping as it got halfway up just to compound the apparent awkwardness. "It's Bella."  There were murmurs from the class as they learned who her father had been. It was apparently a small enough town that everyone knew each other.
 
So how did an entire pack of vampires hunt without making it look suspicious? Did they just go after a bunch of tourists?
 
Mr. Becken used the book he was holding to point toward an empty desk. "All right then. Class, I expect you to help Bella catch up. Bella, we just finished a section on the Boxer Rebellion, and we're moving into the First World War today. Exciting stuff.  Have a seat there next to Lauren."
 
Taking the offered seat, Isabella glanced at her neighbor, and thought back to the class list she had memorized. The girl was, objectively speaking, hot as hell. With her very light blonde hair, perfect pale skin, and emerald eyes, it was obvious at first glance that guys were always going to be all over her.  Especially in a small town like this, with limited options. Lauren Mallory was, if not a queen, at least a princess, who expected to be treated like one.
 
And from the look she was giving Bella, she definitely didn't appreciate anything she even perceived as competition.  "What are you looking at?" She managed to sneer while still flashing a perfect smile.
 
"Um," Bella shook her head after a moment as though she didn't know what to say. Finally, she just muttered while turning away, "Nothing, sorry."
 
Mr. Becken was still talking about the beginning of the First World War, but Isabella's attention was on the boy in the back corner. With skin as pale as ivory, dark hair that was best described as poofy, and a smoldering glower that he had clearly spent at least a decade or two perfecting, this was definitely the one she was looking for, Edward Cullen.
 
Jessica had said he was hot, and Isabella could see what she meant. He probably broke hearts all the time just by looking away from a girl. It was clearly a skill he'd honed. That said, the smoldering look was tempered slightly by the fact that she couldn't tell if he was trying to gaze into her soul, or was just severely constipated.
 
He noticed her looking, mostly because his eyes hadn't moved away from her since she entered. Isabella resisted the urge to smile at the fact that that Jessica's spell was clearly working, and simply stared back at him. His hands were gripping either side of the desk, and it looked like he was close to ripping it right off.
 
Wow, maybe Jess had overdone it a little.
 
Still, Isabella didn't break eye contact. She stared as though she couldn't stop, when the truth was that she desperately wanted to bathe in bleach after the kind of look he was giving her. It was hungry in every sense of the word, as though he wanted to devour her. It simultaneously frightened her and pissed her off.
 
What are you thinking, vampire man? Isabella wondered as they smoldered at one another. Are you trying to figure out why you can't read my mind? Or is the smell of my blood making you so crazy you haven't even noticed.
 
Did you kill my father, or was it one of your brothers or sisters, or the things pretending to be your parents? Jessica had been fairly sure that none of the Cullens were actually related, but not completely positive. Still, it was likely that they were simply a group of bloodsuckers playing house.
 
And seriously, why would a vampire ever go back to high school? It wasn't like this Edward guy couldn't pass for college age, so it wasn't to keep their cover.
 
The question of why a probably ancient creature would willingly put himself in a school with a bunch of teenagers made Isabella want to throw up in her mouth.
 
The vampire looked away first, his expression pained. Isabella took that as a victory and finally started to pay attention to what the teacher was saying. 
 
"Which means that all of you are going to have to break into pairs." Mr. Becken explained. "The two of you will be responsible for giving an oral report, thoroughly researched, about what you believe would have happened if the Great War hadn't started the way that it did."
 
A blond, baby faced, wholesome looking boy who was sitting next to Edward raised his hand. Isabella was pretty sure that would be Mike Newton, from the descriptions she had read. "So you mean we can just make stuff up?"
 
Mr. Becken chuckled. "Yes, Mike, I’m saying you can make stuff up." The class cheered, but the teacher raised his own hand to quiet them. "But!" Once they settled, he went on. "Everyone who participates and gives at least a five minute presentation will earn full credit. You try, you get the points." More cheering ensued, until the man had to whistle loudly. "You want me to make it a thousand word essay on why making the teacher regret giving you a break is a bad idea?"
 
The class went silent, and Mr. Becken continued. "Now, this time without the yelling, yes, I meant what I said. Participation and effort gets you the grade. But, here's the rub. The presentation I like the best, the one that has clearly put the most effort into actually researching what happened back then, and how different changes would affect the outcome, will be excused from the end of unit test."
 
Isabella resisted the urge to chuckle. Of course, what the teacher wasn't pointing out was that, assuming the test focused primarily on the war, anyone who did enough work on this project would obviously have to have learned enough to make the test itself easy. The fact was, anyone and everyone who actually tried to win this little contest would, by its very nature, make the test easier for themselves. Becken was, essentially, tricking them into studying.
 
It was underhanded. She approved.
 
Forestalling anyone's attempts to pick their partner, Mr. Becken gestured from one desk to another across the six rows. "You and you are partners, all the way back, left and right. You and you, all the way back, and you and you, all the way back."
 
That left Isabella with Lauren, who didn't look happy about that fact. She decided to nudge that feeling along a little, taking an educated guess. "That blonde guy in the back of the room," She whispered to the other girl, nodding her head slightly back toward Mike Newton. "He keeps looking over here. I bet we could get him to help us." She waited a second while the girl's eyes flicked that way, let the jealousy embers start, and then threw gasoline on them. "I mean, it wouldn't take much to convince him."
 
And that was enough. Lauren's hand shot up, and she started talking as soon as the teacher looked their way. "Mr. Becken, Bella's like, really behind. And I’m really not sure I can get her caught up in time for this project. You know history isn't my best subject. It wouldn't be fair to Bella. Why don't you put her with someone that can really help her, like Edward. He knows like, everything about history. I think he can really help her."
 
Somehow, she managed to make that sound like an insult. Isabella was impressed.
 
Mr. Becken looked from Lauren, to Bella, to the boys, then back again. Isabella did her level best to look utterly uninteresting. She thought about borrowing vampire-boy's constipated look, but didn't think that the teacher offering her a pass to the restroom and/or an exorcism was going to help matters.
 
"Fine," The man finally agreed. "Lauren, switch to Mike, and Bella can partner with Edward."
 
That was as easy as it was. All she'd had to do was make the pretty, popular girl think that she might be interested in one of the boys that the girl clearly had in her dating starting line-up, and Lauren had done the legwork. Now Isabella was partnered with the vampire, and as far as anyone knew, it wasn't her idea.
 
When she looked that way this time, Edward's staring had intensified. He looked as though he was trying, very intently, to eat her with his eyes. In return, Isabella simply gave him a humorless smile.
 
Glare at me all you want. She thought at him. I know what you are, Edward. I don't know which one of you killed my father, but I'm going to find out. I'm going to make you trust me. 
 
And then I'm going to watch your ashes burn.

[redtailedsaffa]

Loving this so far. Keep up the good work.

[Kitulean]

Hey Saffa! Glad you're enjoying it.


Chapter Three

This was absolutely not going to stand. Isabella swore repeatedly to herself while pushing the side door of the school open to exit into the student parking lot. She was seething. After all the effort she'd gone through to get herself made into Edward's partner, the son of a **** had the nerve to cancel. He'd apparently told the teacher that he was feeling sick and wouldn't be able to take part in the project. Mr. Becken had called her in right after the last period to ask if she wanted a new partner.

She'd told him no, that she'd take care of it herself. Then she'd made a beeline for the parking lot. She had to find Edward and put a stop to this 'sick' nonsense. He was trying to keep away from her, either because of the scent or because he knew who her father had been. Maybe he felt guilty, or maybe he was just afraid of her getting too close. Whichever, she was putting a stop to it. They had to be partners.

Halfway across the lot, as her gaze kept flicking back and forth searchingly, it occurred to Isabella that storming up, furious and agitated and just demanding that he take her back and stop the bull**** was likely to ruin the blank canvas image she'd been trying to portray.

No, she couldn't be angry. She couldn't demand what she wanted. There had to be another way.

Her searching, questing gaze finally spotted her target. Edward was standing near a silver Volvo, apparently talking to a pretty blonde and a truly massive, linebacker sized guy. Other vampires in his little clan, or tribe, or pack or whatever they called themselves? She'd find out soon enough.

From the way that Edward's shoulders abruptly hunched as she drew closer, Isabella could tell that he'd picked up her scent. She watched the facial reactions of the other two and smiled just a little to herself when they suddenly looked as though someone had waved a plate full of mouthwatering pizza under their noses. Yup, definitely vampires. That was another reason she'd asked for Jessica to do that spell. It made new bloodsuckers really easy to detect if you knew what to look for.

The other two were staring at her, even as Edward very slowly turned around. He finally met her gaze as Isabella made herself shuffle the last few steps. "Hey." She said. "I thought we could umm, go to the library…" Her words came out half mumbled, and she kept herself in a half-hunched position, her eyes moving between the boy's own and his chest, occasionally flicking down to his shoes. "For our project."

Edward blinked once, and then frowned even more than he had already been frowning. "Didn't Mr. Becken tell you? I can't do the project."

"Oh, well he uhh, he told me, sure." Isabella shifted her weight from one foot to the other, let the silence trail off for several seconds for seemingly no reason, and then cleared her throat. "But you know, you don't…. really look sick, so I thought maybe… you got better."

"Yeah, Edward." The big guy spoke up, smiling so easily she might have been charmed if she hadn't known what he was. "You still too sick for school?" He extended a hand toward her, and she barely detected his nostrils flare a little as he sniffed her again. "I'm Emmett, by the way. And this guy--" He hooked an arm around Edward's neck and pulled him over. "--he's my brother, so if he won't help you out, I can give you anything you need."

She could have shut the ****y guy down with a couple words, but that would hurt the illusion she was trying to give off, that she needed help. "I--" She made herself blush and look down before looking at Edward, her target. At first she very nearly pointed out that he didn't seem sick, but that as well might come off as too forward. No, she needed to remain as passive as possible and let him play hero.

"I could really use the help." Isabella finally settled on, though she was careful to keep her tone as neutral as possible. Whether Edward wanted her to sound breathy, or desperate, or injured, he would fill it in himself. He would hear what he wanted to hear, as long as she didn't let any actual emotion creep into her voice. "Since you've been in class longer."

Any normal person, she would have expected disbelief. Supposedly, he was sick, and if she was really selfish enough to come for his help anyway, she would have expected at least a little annoyance. Instead, she had a feeling that this Edward would appreciate the chance to play savior. She was usually really good at reading people. Almost as good as she was at manipulating them.

Her guess, educated as it was, proved right. Edward shoved himself out from under Emmett's arm. He still looked pained, but he started to walk away from the pair. "Library." He spoke the single word as if it was an order, and Isabella almost stared in disbelief before catching herself. She looked back toward Emmett, then past him to the girl. "I didn't get your name."

The blonde was staring at her with clear distrust. That one might be harder. "I didn't give it." She replied airily.

Chuckling, Emmett took the blonde's hand. "Don't worry about Rosalie. She just takes time to warm up to strangers, ahhh…" He paused, clearly unsure of what to call her. 

"Bella." She introduced herself and then looked after the still walking Edward.

"You better go." Emmett winked. "Little Bro doesn't like to repeat himself."

As odd as that statement was, and slightly telling, Isabella simply walked after her class 'partner'. She could feel the eyes of both the other vampires boring into her back, staring hungrily after her. It made her want to turn around, to stare them down. But no, above everything else, the one and only thing keeping her marginally safe while she played this game was that they didn't know there was a game being played. They thought she was just a clueless, helpless little lamb.

The moment they stopped thinking that, if she wasn't ready, she would be dead.

***********************************************************************

"What do you need help with?" Edward's voice was a little strained as he stood slightly away from the table in the back corner of the library. Isabella had deliberately chosen a place away from witnesses. Maybe it was too daring, or even stupid, but she wanted to see what he would do, if anything. She needed to know what kind of control he had, and she was betting that he had enough not to kill her in the middle of the school library.

She really hoped that wouldn't prove to be a dumb bet.

"The… World War One." She shrugged. "I'm not sure what could have changed what happened." Isabella gestured at three different books on the table. "I'm not really all that creative. I mean, a lot of people died. What does he want?" It was almost physically painful to claim she didn't understand the project or couldn't do it.

Edward took the bait, and pulled out the chair furthest from where she was sitting. "Okay, first of all, call it the Great War, not World War One. If you're changing what happened, you should refer to it by the original name."

"Wait," Isabella looked up, schooling her expression into blankness. "Those are the same war?"

She continued that way, letting Edward 'explain' things to her, getting gradually closer to him while watching his reactions. He still looked very stiff and uncomfortable, but he didn't leave. She had the feeling that he liked lecturing; he enjoyed being listened to and looked up to. The latter part she played up as much as possible, staring at him while he spoke and seeming to hang off his every word. Yes, this was a man who appreciated attention and, she was certain at this point, obedience.

About thirty minutes into their work, she chanced an interruption. While he was exchanging one book for another, Isabella spoke up. "You have very intense eyes."

His reaction to that was to look up and stare at her, because of course he did. She'd complimented his eyes, and he wanted to show them to her.

Of course, his vocal response was quite different. "No, I don't." He said gruffly.

"You do." Isabella said quickly, leaning over the table as though to stare into them. "They're very deep. They look… soulful, piercing… angelic. Your eyes look… perfect."

Okay, that would have been creepy to hear on a first date, let alone a school project. For a second, Isabella thought she'd pushed it too far and almost cursed herself.

Then she realized that Edward was still staring at her. So she stared back, gazed into those golden eyes as if she couldn't even dream of looking away. She'd said enough. It was time for him to make the next move, whatever that would be.

But he made no move. He just sat there, staring at her. If she hadn't known she was immune, she might have thought he was reading her thoughts. Maybe he was trying to. Either way, she continued to meet his gaze.

What are you thinking, psycho? She wondered while continuing to stare at him, as unblinkingly as possible. Are you trying to get into my head? Or just wondering if you can drain me dry without anyone noticing?

Still, he continued to stare in what… she was beginning to believe he thought was a soulful way. Huh. Well okay then. She stared 'soulfully' back and waited for him to say something.

Thirteen Mississippi… fourteen Mississippi…. fifteen Mississippi…

Wow, this guy can stare for a long time. Is this romantic?

Four score and seven years ago, our fathers brought forth on this continent a new nation…

Is there something on my forehead? She wondered, trying to will her eyes not to water. Surely he'll say something now. No one can actually think this is romantic or anything but weird.

Beware the Jabberwock, my son! The jaws that bite, the claws that catch! Beware the jubjub bird, nad shun the frumious Bandersnatch!

Okay, seriously, dude, kiss me or kill me or whatever you're going to do, but do something. This is weird. Not even dangerous vampire weird, but creepy, I think I need an adult weird. Give me a break here.

… Gimme a break, giiimme a break, break me off a piece of that Kit Kat bar! Oooh, chocolate. Yummy chocolate.

Still nothing. He was still staring in what she was now certain he believed was a deep, emotional gaze, and she didn't dare look away.

I like chicken, I like liver, Meow Mix Meow Mix please deliver!

ZzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzZ zzzzzzZzzzzzZZZZZZZ zzzzzzz
 
Isabella was dangerously close to kicking the guy's shin to make sure he was still alive or… whatever he was, when Edward finally spoke. "You're the police chief's daughter."

"Former." She replied, trying not to jump at the suddenness of his voice. "Former chief, not former daughter. He died." She managed, with considerable effort, not to let that sound accusatory.

"I heard." Edward replied simply, and it was all she could do not to smack the look off his face. "I'm sorry."

"I wasn't close to Charlie." She had decided that calling her parents by their first names would be just the thing a wannabe 'edgy' youth would do, and he would clearly eat it up.

Indeed, Edward raised an eyebrow. "Charlie. You call your dad by his first name."

She made herself shrug. "We didn't spend much time together." Isabella said quietly. He still hadn't stopped staring at her. It was time to push this along.

Trying not to visibly brace herself, she pricked her finger against the pin in her pocket. The pain was sharp, and her yelp was genuine.

"Ow! I think I poked something." Taking her hand out from under the table, she let the drop of blood on the end of it glisten. "Ow, jeeze, I think I need a band aide." She looked up as though to ask for one, then blinked. "Hey, what's wrong with your eyes?" They had gone from gold to black, and he was almost openly salivating.

"I… I need to go." His voice came out gruffly, as he shoved himself backwards, knocking over his chair in the process. It fell to the ground with a bang. 

"Go?" Isabella stood after him. "What about…" But it was too late. He'd simply grunted, looked pained, and then he was gone.

Nope, nothing suspicious about any of that.

"That was a little dumb."

The voice made Isabella jump, and she looked to the end of the nearby bookcases as Jessica emerged. "He could have come after you. What if he lost control?"

"I wanted to see how much control he actually has." Isabella replied, looking at the blood on her finger. "You sure he didn't know you were there?"

Jessica shook her head. "He had no idea. I'm positive. I do know how to hide from vampires. It's one of the things we're best at." She reached out after approaching and took Isabella's hand. "Let me fix that for you."

While the other girl healed her finger, Isabella looked away, down the stacks. "He looks so guilty all the time. You think he's the one that killed my father and now he feels bad about it?"

Jessica released her hand once it was fixed and shrugged. "I don't know, Iz--I mean, Bella. It was one of them, one of the vampires, and they're the only vampires in town."

"No, they're not."

The voice came from the other side of the table, and both Isabella and Jessica jumped, startled by it.

Standing there, where Edward had been, was a small young woman, even shorter than Jessica, and almost anorexically thin. Her dark hair was cut short, but stuck out in every direction.

She repeated herself while Isabella and Jessica stared with wide, shocked eyes. "They're not the only vampires in town."

 Isabella glanced at her friend, who just shook her head and still looked half panicked. Clearly Jessica had no more idea of how this girl had suddenly appeared, seemingly out of nowhere, than she did.

"How… do you know?" Isabella finally managed to ask, carefully. She was weighing her options, trying frantically to think of something she could say or do if this was as bad as it looked.

"Because I used to be one of them." The girl replied, her voice soft and quiet.

Breath catching, Isabella pulled Jessica back by the arm, as though a few more inches of space would protect them. As if the table between the two girls and the other would do anything if she really was... "Used to be one of what?"

The girl smiled just a little. "I'm not going to hurt you. I couldn't if I wanted to. My name is Alice."

Frowning at that choice of words, Isabella regarded the girl. "I say again… used to be one of what? And why couldn't you hurt us?"

In answer, the girl stepped forward. She stepped into the table and through it, walking right into it as if it wasn't there. Or rather, as if she wasn't actually solid. Then she stood, right in the middle of the table as it cut through her figure as if she was a hologram, or a…

"I used to be a vampire." Alice said simply. "Before I died."

[Durpicorn!]

Why is there not more of this?