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Jacob.... Vampwolf?

Summary:
It was an accident of course. But Bella can't deny, she changed Jacob. For eternity. Jacob is now caught in the middle of destiny. What would happen if someone was a "mix" between two monsters? Would the result be catastrophic? Or would a super being be created? jacob vampwolf Includes: Bella as vamp, ( her power ) Jacob as ?, different wolves, jasper loves to garden, Someone IMPRINTS, and volturi events. contains spoilers for new moon and eclipse


Notes:
It was an accident of course. But Bella can't deny, she changed Jacob. For eternity. Jacob is now caught in the middle of destiny. What would happen if someone was a "mix" between two monsters? Would the result be catastrophic? Or would a super being be created?


12. Chapter 12: A Wet Highway. Going One Eighteen in a Porsche. Exhilarating.

Rating 5/5   Word Count 641   Review this Chapter

-Alice's POV-

"HA HA!" My green piece skillfully jumped his blue and I scored. I hated playing Edward. It was sooooo hard.

But equally fair because against any other family member we would own them. OWN.

As I was focusing on reliving the geographical climates of Sierra Leone in my mind, a vision came on very suddenly.

It was of me quitting the game because I would lose in three moves.

Okay. I thought. Whatever.

"I'm done, Edward. I think I'll go check to see if my Chanel bag is in yet." I ordered it a week ago, but had forgotten about it.

I was immediately sucked into another vision.

A dark room was filled with the glow of a sullen lamp in the center.

Jane's sharp face was illuminated slightly, gazing down at her nimble hands. Holding something.

She sealed the envelope with her tongue; it had to be venom since we didn't have saliva.

The square paper turned over in her hands, and she rested it on the table which held the lamp.

In the center of the yellowed paper, she wrote:

Cullen Family


Our address continued, but my head swirled with colors and the envelope's fancy letters, and I appeared in a different room.

I was in a building, tall and open. The air tasted stale, like paper.

There were two small slits in the wall to my left, and a large rectangular opening to the right of those.

The signs above the openings said,

"METERED" "STAMPED" and "PACKAGES"

Oh. I was in the Forks Post Office.

As this detail registered in my mind it flicked to another scene.

A small, metal box that held the little door swung open, keys dangling from the entrance.

I read the number on the box.

223.

Yep. The Cullen Post office Box.

We rarely got any mail in this box, most of our mail were large Plasma TVs, wall replacement products and various items Rose and I ordered.

My sight peered into the darkened opening. An envelope lay diagonal against the steel walls.

It was the size of a postcard. The color was faded, a strange yellow white.

Then, randomly, a hand with smooth, cold skin reached into the box. It was mine.

My arm blurred, but I could read the fancy lettering on the front.

The words and numbers swirled, making it hard to read.

Cullen. 2. Washington. 2. Family. 3. Forks.

Reality washed back into my life, as I gasped and re entered the living room.

Edward's eyes were staring into mine, reading my vision.

He held a blue piece inbetween his pale fingers.

I stood up before he could say anything.

I grabbed my Dior jacket and raced to the kitchen, where it seemed Esme and Bella were chatting.

I was in too much of a hurry to act polite, so I quickly interrupted.

"I'm going to the post office!" I squealed. I wasn't afraid, I was delighted.

My skip increased as I headed out the door. Jasper was (yet again) inspecting his flowers, even though they were all in perfection.

Rain began to pour down from the clouds as I strolled into the garage and into my Porsche.

My keys jingled as I slid them into the ignition and lit her up.

I revved it and skidded out of the garage. As I sped down the driveway, the trees blurred past.

I drifted onto the highway, my tires screeching on the cold, wet pavement.

Water splashed onto my windshield, but were quickly erased by the wipers.

The subs that Emmett had installed rumbled the interior, my radio playing a fast beat techno song.

I half-recognized it was the band Scooter.

A smile spread on my face as I glanced at the spedometer.

The thin, metal indicator rested easily on the one-eighteen mark.

My destination appeared clearly on the side of the highway.

I turned into the parking lot, glancing at the rain-streaked sign that declared the FORKS followed by a smaller USPS and some inanimate phone numbers.