Edward never came back after he left Bella in New Moon. Bella went to college, married Jacob, had a daughter. When Bella's grandaughter and Edward find each other in Forks, can Edward overcome his memories and devote himself to a new love?
It's a tired old plot, but this is the first time I've ever written Twilight fanfiction, so please indulge me.
10. Chapter 10
Rating 5/5 Word Count 1212 Review this Chapter
Chemistry was torture. The entire day was bad. I couldn’t concentrate on anything, he was all I could think of – how he’d smelled, how it had sent blood rushing to my head and adrenaline rushing everywhere else, how all my instincts had told me: enemy! Fight enemy! In a way that was so primitive and basic I would never forget it. How he said that he loved me…loved me. The entire day was bad, but chemistry was the worst. Because he was right there and he was looking at me like that and part of me wanted to change to my more savage shape right there in the class room and destroy him and the rest of his disgusting, evil family (whoa Izzie-girl, try to control yourself will ya? That’s just the wolf talking. His family are probably perfectly nice people) and another part, the part that had said I love you too wanted to lean over and start kissing him and then rip all his clothes off in a violent but good way. Were-wolves, I was beginning to suspect, were creatures of strong passions by nature.
I maintained a balance between the two sides only with extreme difficulty and total concentration, which meant I didn’t have any left over for actually doing chemistry, or anything else for the rest of the day.
I left school that day with great relief, very glad that there was no volleyball practice that day. I sped home to check my email, where I discovered a message from Granddad, which read:
I think I know what you’re talking about, but it worries me that it’s happening to you. I’m glad you contacted me. I will expect your call promptly at seven. – Granddad.
I glanced at the clock. Almost three hours to go until the appointed time, but I was still over-excited and tense from my stressful day at school, and I knew the perfect way to unwind.
A few minutes later, a trotted out the back door and into the forest in the shape a large, reddish-brown wolf. My father wouldn’t be home until six at the earliest, but I suspected wolf-me’s idea of time was little different than human-me’s, which was why I had a watch fastened around my neck on a string. If my father got home before me and locked me out, things could turn very ugly, though luckily it got dark early this time of year.
Running as a wolf was…simply amazing. More than anything else, it made me feel like I had lost myself entirely, become simply a Running Thing, living only for the delicious thrill of being an out-of-control whirlwind in your own body.
Sadly, I eventually had to turn back, and somehow, running back wasn’t as fun as running forward. I returned to human form to open the back door, cringing a little, though I knew it was silly. I dressed quickly and ate a little, but I wasn’t very hungry. I wanted to call my Granddad. I stared at the clock, drummed my fingernails, and, at 6:59, seized the phone and began dialing a number I’d learned by heart very early that morning.
The phone rang twice before Granddad picked up.
“Izzie?” he asked.
“Yes,” I said. “Hi, Granddad. How are you doing?”
“Fine. What I want to know is, how are you doing?”
“Odd. Yes, I suppose the change could be described as odd. I would consider that an understatement, but yes, I guess odd could apply.” His voice was teasing, but I could sense genuine anxiety beneath it.
“But, Izzie,” he went on. “I’m worried about you. Do you feel…irritable? Or angry for no reason?”
“Well…yeah, once I did, but I got over it.”
“You didn’t hurt anyone, did you?”
“Just a volleyball. It’s pretty much gone, though.”
“Really? Just a volleyball? You haven’t ever felt extremely angry with one person in particular?”
There was a momentary silence.
“Hello, granddad?” I asked. “You still there?”
“Yes, I’m still here. Have you changed entirely yet?”
“Oh, yes. Last night.”
“Ah. Well, Izzie, look. You have this werewolf thing from my Quileute blood, but the thing is, this doesn’t happen to everyone. There has to be a trigger.”
“What kind of trigger.”
“Well, a kind of creature. Most people would say it was a myth like us, but they’re not, sadly…”
“You’re talking about the cold ones,” I said. A suspicion was rising in me, rising up my spine to the back of my mind, until I was absolutely convinced that I knew what ‘cold ones’ were. I didn’t say anything to Granddad though. I would wait for him to confirm my suspicion unasked.
“How did you…when did you hear the stories?”
“I read them on the Quileute website last night.”
“Oh. Yes, I forget they’re up there. Yes, cold ones are the trigger, or as whites call them, vampires.”
I knew it.
“Our wolf blood only comes out if there are cold ones near enough to pose a threat. So Izzie, listen to me.”
“You’ll know the vampire when you meet it, trust me, the reaction is unmistakable. So when – if – you come across it, stay away from it. Go to the reservation and contact the tribal council. Tell them who you are and what you know. If you’re changing, then others will be too. Alright?”
Oh, shit. I didn’t want to my grandfather, who was only trying to take care of me, but I didn’t want to go running to the Quileutes about Edward and his family either. Whatever happened, I was sure it wouldn’t be pretty.
“I’ll see what I can do,” I said weakly. “I’ve got to go, my – uh – dad’s at the door. I love you, bye.”
“You be careful. Bye.”
I hung up with a sigh of relief.
I wasn’t sure what to make of Izzie. Sometimes it was hard to talk over the phone, of course, but her transformation sounded very…unusual. That wasn’t the real issue, though. The real issue was the vampires. What was it about the town of Forks that the creatures couldn’t stay away from the place. It had their kind of weather, overcast and rainy, yes, but so did dozens of other little towns in the Pacific Northwest. Why couldn’t they live in towns that didn’t have reservations outside them, reservations filled with dormant were-wolves? Why was that too much to ask.
I had to go up there and see what was going on. I couldn’t leave this to Izzie, she was smart, but she didn’t know what she was doing. The young were-wolves on the reservation would surely be preparing for a war, to drive the blood suckers off our land and away from the town. They would need help.
Lurking beneath all this though, I was afraid there wouldn’t be a war. I was afraid it wouldn’t be necessary, because the bloodsuckers causing the transformations would be ones we already had a treaty with.
What would I do, if that were the case? What could I do? After all, there was no reason for me to hate him particularly anymore, that all happened a long time ago, and I came out on top. No reason for me to hate him anymore than any were-wolf hates any vampire.
But there might be reason for him to hate me. Even worse, there might be reason for him to hate Izzie.