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It has been sixteen years since Meg Cullen was kidnapped by the Volturi. Sixteen years of Edward and Bella mourning their dead daughter...supposedly killed by the Pack. Then, Meg returns to Forks. Only then does the race for answers (and survival) begin... ~SEQUEL TO MY STORY "CHOICE"~EPILOGUE: BRILLIANCE IS UP!"BY THE PRICKING OF MY THUMBS, SOMETHING WICKED THIS WAY COMES." ~MACBETH

Here it is! The sequel to Choice! Hope you enjoy it! Disclaimer: I own nothing. All characters belong to the lovely Stephenie Meyer. Except the characters of Meg and Ambrosi, though. As well as the lovable (but annoying) Dean Newton. They come from my own imagination. © Edward's Rose 2008

4. Chapter 4: Past

Rating 5/5   Word Count 1700   Review this Chapter

Chapter Four: Past


I sat motionless, staring evenly into the wolf’s eyes. Its gums were pulled back over its teeth, mouth set in a snarl. Without blinking, I raised my hand…fingering the tree innocently. The wolf launched forward, aiming for my neck. Quick as lightning, I rolled away…energy crackling through the air as I latched onto some of its furs. I was thrown into a maze of color, expecting to meet the wild, feral thoughts of an animal. Not so…

A little boy with dark skin running down a beach…A kind-faced man in a wheel chair…A girl, the same girl from Jane’s visions, batting her eyes furiously…The light in her eyes replaced with a broken expression…His hand in hers…Wolves running effortlessly through the trees…A group of pale-skinned individuals…His lips on hers as he kissed the girl…The bronze haired boy…The girl holding a baby…Pain…Anger…Loneliness…

I wrenched away, crashing ungracefully to the ground. The wolf-well, the wolf with the human mind-lying motionless on the ground. Gingerly, I crawled towards him and put a hand against the side of his face. His eyes opened a crack, regarding me with a strange fierceness. With a sudden burst of energy, he raised himself from the ground and padded behind a grove of trees. Was he coming back…? I remained sitting, legs curled up underneath me.

Suddenly, a twig snapped and I whirled around. Standing there was a tall, broad figure with long, dark hair. He was dressed simply in a pair of jeans, and I could tell that this was the wolf. He regarded me intently, eyes narrowed into slits.

“Who the hell are you?” he hissed.

I stood, brushing my skirts off delicately. I returned his gaze coolly. “I should probably ask you the same thing.”

“Let’s start with a name then,” he demanded.

“M-…” I started. I didn’t want him to know my real name…besides; a name was just a name. “Isabella,” I said quickly, the first one that came to my head.

His eyes flickered briefly, sparks of pain shooting up from their depths. “Well…Isabella. You need to leave before…”

“Jacob Black,” I said quickly, the name rolling easily off my tongue. Where had that come from…?

“Yes,” he said warily.

“You’re a werewolf, aren’t you?”

Before he could respond, I continued.

“Sworn enemies of…”

“Bloodsuckers,” he snarled.

“Vampires,” I finished smoothly, ignoring the seemingly derogatory word.

“You seem to know a lot about the leeches,” he said quickly, circling the clearing warily.

My eyes didn’t leave his face. “Yes. I do.”

“Why? Because you’re one of them?”

I gave a dry laugh. “Of course not.” The very thought was absolutely ludicrous!

His gaze was hard, scrutinizing my face intently. His nostrils flared briefly, sniffing the air. The look he wore was one of repulsion and perplexity.

Suddenly, I smelt something, too…faint as it was. It reminded me of the stray dogs in Volterra…dripping water from rain.

“Do you live in town?” he asked casually, his stance slightly softened.

“No,” I said simply, changing the topic. “Do you have dealings with vampires often?” I asked mildly.

“There haven’t been any in Forks for sixteen years.”

I looked up sharply. “But there were some here?”

His eyes narrowed, anger and pain etching deep lines onto his face. “Yes,” he said tersely.

“What were their names?”

“The Cullen’s. Christ, why am I even telling you this?” he hissed.

The ones Ambrosi had told me about! Why did the name send a tremor through me…?

“How many in their coven?” I asked eagerly.

“Plenty,” he said.

Then, with a leap, he was running back through the trees.

“Wait, Jacob!” I called, speeding after him.

Branches slapped me hard in the face, dew gathering on my face. Running had always been easy for me, an exhilarating feeling. He was too fast for me, though. Names and thoughts floated around my head as I stumbled through the endless woods. Who were the Cullen’s and why were the Volturi concerned about them…? My thoughts carried me all the way to a road, which I failed to see. I stood still for a minute, the rain increasing in fervor.

Suddenly, I heard the desperate honk of a horn, and leapt to the side. I saw the flashing lights of a police car and felt tension drench me in waves. The door opened to reveal a kind-faced man with a receding hair line.

“Excuse me, miss?” he asked.

I locked my eyes on his face, one that was strangely familiar. “Yes?”

“I’m Police Chief Swan. It’s very dangerous to be standing in the middle of the road. With the rain, I could barely saw you!”

I blinked…probably looking like an incompetent idiot. “You’re right. I’m sorry, Chief Swan.”

He mumbled something under his breath before saying: “Can I offer you a ride somewhere?”

“Can you take me back to town, please?” I asked quickly, squinting through the rain.

“Sure thing.”

I gingerly opened the door and slid into the seat. I watched the brilliant-colored lights create patterns on the asphalt as we drove slowly down the road. I was used to driving fast…speeding through the Italian countryside with Ambrosi. Not going at a snail like pace, as if fearing an abyss would swallow the car at any minute.

Chief Swan wasn’t a very talkative person, and for that I was grateful. His presence was soothing, despite the gruff manor. Had I known someone like him before…? As we drove into city limits, he cleared his throat.

“I haven’t seen you in town before. Did you just move here?”

“Yes, from Italy. My name’s Isabella.”

The place I’d said didn’t affect him as much as the name, though. His hands tightened on the steering wheel, the creases on his face becoming more prominent.

“I had a daughter named Isabella…Bella for short,” he said softly.

“Where is she now?” I asked curiously.

“She died in a car crash sixteen years ago,” he said shortly.

“I’m sorry,” I said sincerely. I felt terrible; Chief Swan had suffered a lot in his life.

He shook his head quickly, as if to dismiss my apology. Why was sixteen the magic number in Forks…?

Quickly changing the topic, I began: “Do you know Jacob Black?”

A grim smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “Sure, I know that kid. He was Bell’s best friend…” He trailed off, and I didn’t need for him to finish.

So that was it! Bella Swan must’ve been the girl in Jacob’s memories, and Jane’s…But who was the bronze-haired boy? From what I could tell, Jacob had loved Bella. And as far as I knew, Bella had loved Jacob. Where did the other boy come into all this?

So absorbed in thought, I hadn’t realized Chief Swan had stopped the car. I glanced around quickly and realized we were in front of the high school.

“Is here alright?” he asked indifferently.

I glanced quickly at the kids milling around the parking lot. He thought I had cut classes! An amused smile threatened to tug at my lips, for I’d been taught by some of the most brilliant minds in Italy.

“Oh…uh…yes, this is fine,” I said quickly.

I hopped out and gave him a radiant smile. “Thank you, Chief Swan.”

He looked embarrassed. “Take care, kid.”

As he drove away, I turned towards the buildings where pairs of curious eyes were watching me. I gave a tight smile and turned down the sidewalk, pulling the hood of my jacket up.

“Hey, wait up!” a voice called.

I turned sharply to see a boy with shaggy, blonde hair running towards me. He matched my pace evenly, and I stared at him quizzically.

Unperturbed, he smiled and stuck out a hand. “My name’s Dean Newton.”

I shook it warily. “Isabella.”

“That’s cool. So, are you new around here?”

I was reminded of an overly-friendly golden retriever. “Yes.”

He nodded eagerly. “Where ‘ya from?”

“Italy,” I said cryptically.

“Italy,” he said with a whistle. “I knew you had an accent!”


I continued walking, silently begging for Dean to leave.

“So can you speak Italian?”


Dean blinked.

“Yes,” I said with a sigh.

Suddenly, a car horn honked as it pulled up next to us. “Dean!” a voice called, accompanied by a window being rolled down. It revealed a man who looked remarkably like Dean, who could only be his father.

“My dad,” he muttered. “I’ll see you later, okay? At school or something!”

I started to protest, but he only gave me a cheery wave. His dad was staring at me, puzzled…as if he were seeing someone else. Then the car started and I was left alone on the deserted street.

Left alone searching for answers where I could find none.