Naruto: Tales of the Moon

Disclaimer: Don't own Twilight series or Naruto.

Thought
Speech

AN/ Just throwing this out there. Been meaning to for months, just to sate the masses while I've been busy. This is a Naruto x Twilight crossover. The first few chapters are going to be highlights from New Moon, incorporating Naruto, leading into the main story which will be from the third book onward. And as far as knowing when events happen in the book, just go with it. I lose track in the second book during the "Bella depression arc".

Story Start...

Flashback

"Who're they?"

Angela and Jessica sent quick looks to the door before the latter turned back to the door. "The Cullens," Angela answered, as if that short reply was the ultimate answer.

Wanting in on the conversation, Jessica leaned in. "They're, um, Dr. and Mrs. Cullen's foster kids," she explained. "They moved down here from Alaska, like, a few years ago."

Jumping back in, "They kinda keep to themselves," Angela added.

"Yeah, 'cause they're all together," Jessica suggested conspiratorially. Not that she was a gossip. Perish the thought. "Like, together together."

As the first pair of oddly attractive teens entered, she proceeded to take the task of identifying them for the new girl. "The blonde girl, that's Rosalie, and the big, dark-haired guy, Emmett, they're, like, a thing. I'm not even sure that's legal."

Angela nudged her shoulder. "Jess, they're not actually related."

But Jessica wasn't about to let it go. "Yeah, but they live together. It's weird," she rationalized, and would've continued had another Cullen not stepped through the door. A pixie-like, young woman with chin-length reddish black hair. "And, okay, the little dark-haired girl's Alice. She's really weird. She hasn't dated any of the guys here."

"I already explained that one to you," Angela broke in with a chiding whisper. "Don't you remember when Dan tried asking her out?" Jessica just rolled her eyes. "She said she was already seeing someone."

"Yeah, well, never seen the guy. That's all I'm saying," Jessica countered. "Doctor Cullen's like this foster dad-slash-matchmaker."

"Maybe he'll adopt me," Angela proposed wistfully, sharing a smile with her friend.

But, of course, Bella's attention was immediately drawn and locked onto the fourth and final member of the group to walk through the door. "Who's he?"

The two local girls shared a knowing glance. "That's Edward Cullen," Jessica answered, with no small amount of desire. "He's totally gorgeous, obviously, but apparently nobody here's good enough for him," she grumbled, sounding like someone who had at one point hoped otherwise, and gotten shut down. "Like I care, you know? So, yeah."

Flashback End

"She said she was already seeing someone…"

A fairly innocuous sentence, readily forgotten in fact, yet one that would hold great significance for the future.

New Moon:

"Pardon me."

Seated behind his desk, Charlie was filling out reports regarding something or other that had ended in a speeding ticket down the long stretch of Red Pine Road. It was dull, monotonous, work, typical of Forks, and he loved every second of it. Unfortunately, that fondness was harder to get lately. Bella's nightmares were waking him up at all hours. Sleep deprived as he was, it was decidedly more difficult to enjoy his work. And he'd been so engrossed that he'd utterly missed the office door opening. Looking up, he met the bemused face of a tall blonde boy in his late teens.

"Can I help you, son?"

The teen grinned, thankful for the relaxed tone. "Yes, sir, I sure hope so. I was wondering, did something happen to the Cullens?" Charlie frowned. The Cullens, one in particular, were a topic to be avoided. Last he'd seen her, early that morning, Bella was still as listless as she'd been for the last few months. She went to school, went to work, but there was no real life in her. And it all came back to one source. "I went to see them, but the house's empty and there's a 'For Sale' sign out front."

"You new in town?" asked Charlie, leaning back in his chair, its metal joints squeaking with age.

The teen shrugged. "Just a little. When they moved here, Carlisle left me a forwarding address so I could catch up with them."

"You a friend of the family?"

"I thought I was. Now…I'm beginning to wonder if Carlisle's trying to lose me," he joked, chuckling lightly.

Charlie grimaced internally. For all he could tell, the kid wasn't sending up any red flags in his eyes, and he seemed to be familiar with the family, apparently. Not that the information he had was particularly secret. "The Cullens up and left town a few months ago. No warning. Just disappeared overnight," he said sadly.

"Damn." Sighing deeply, "Well, thanks, I guess," he returned appreciatively, if a little disappointed. He'd all but assumed as much, but he had hoped to find some kind of clue to their next location.

"Good luck, son," Charlie offered to the retreating teen.

Hesitating at the door, "D'you mind if I use your phone?"

Crud.

Why would they leave town without leaving him notice of where they were going? He'd slipped into the house and found the usual hiding spots. But they were cleaned out.

Odds were good that a few of the Cullens would head to their friends in Alaska. Still…

Why wouldn't Alice leave a note at the least? Sure, he'd been gone for…a while…but it wasn't like he'd wanted to stay away. Running a hand through his hair, he pushed the door open and walked out into the chilly parking lot. Gravel crunched under worn boot soles as he headed to a black and orange motorcycle. Any experienced eye would recognize that it had some age and miles on it, but was well treated.

Finished with his…business, he'd trudged the distance, choosing to go by land as much as he could in the direction of this little town. But, arriving, he'd found the house empty. Coming into town right then, he'd hit the nearest payphone, only to find all the numbers he had were disconnected. Now that had really worried him. They obviously wanted to break contact, and he was really hoping it wasn't from him. However, this was the last place they'd been and was the best place to set up camp until he found them.

Flashback, Five Minutes Prior

Palm raised, he read off the digits, tapping them into the phone. Thank small town hospitality. Another thanks to people who were polite enough to give others their due privacy he noted, the helpful officer generously choosing to make himself a cup of coffee while he made his call.

The ringing broke off with a click. "…"

"Yes, hello. I'm calling about the Cullen place…"

"…"

"U-huh, that's right…No, I don't need a walk-through. I'm interested in buying."

"…"

"I know it's late, I'm sorry for the inconvenience. If you meet me there now, I'll tack an extra five percent onto your end as a bonus."

"…"

"No, I'm serious."

"!"

He grinned reflectively. "Meet you there…CLICK."

Flashback End

Chuckling, he rummaged around his pockets before retrieving his keys. Choosing the appropriate sliver of metal and inserting it in the ignition, the bike started a few seconds later with a dull roar. Grabbing the helmet from atop the throttle, he slid the protective gear over his head, a few blonde spikes hanging out the back. Knocking back the kickstand and shifting into gear, the bike crawled out of the lot, speeding up once he was back on the road.

The quite happy realtor pulling back out of the driveway, that left him to, more officially, walk around.

He'd let himself in the first time. The weakened scents being what led him to seek out the town sheriff.

Just like before though, he could still smell them. The scent was old, stale, but it was still there. Moreover, he could pick out her scent. The familiar aroma stirred warmth in his heart. He had truly missed her, but it never struck him as it did now. Inhaling the faded scent, taking a deep breath, he could just imagine the petite vampire as he'd last seen her.

The loneliness in the empty house was getting to him though.

It had been so easy shoving aside his feelings for the sake of his task, and it had been a very necessary one. If he could have he would've taken her with him, no doubts there, but he had hardly ever been in an area of contact, and her "seeing" ability was needed to look after the family.

"Weber's got nothing on this place," he muttered, loosing a private chortle as he admired the architecture. This had been the first time seeing the house, but it echoed the mind of its designer. One of the benefits of such…longevity…it gave you ample amounts of time to fiddle around.

The presence of furnishings only proved to him that they'd been in a rush to cut and run. That said, while the furniture and fixtures were there, there was nothing of a personal nature in the house. Bedrooms were cleared, all personal effects taken. Not surprising.

A deep rumbling echoed in the stillness of the living room he'd been in when he'd lost himself to reverie. He clutched his protesting stomach. Eyes going to the windows he could see light was already fading from the sky. Checking his watch…5:53. Good. That meant that a few places in town would still be open for a little while longer. Sure, he could probably go into the woods and get himself a decent repast, a deer maybe, or three…but it had been a long time since he'd had a well-cooked meal. If he hurried, he could remedy that.

He was out of the house and on his bike before the door even slammed closed. He made a mental note to run and pick up some much needed groceries to stock the refrigerator. A steak or four would be a nice snack to sleep on, but, in the long run, he'd need a good supply of food to keep him going. Ah, the burdens of his metabolism.

To accurately describe it… He had a healthy appetite, paralleling that of a growing teen at its finest, but, on occasion, either after an active day, or just once a week, roughly estimated, he'd gorge a little. Anything from a half-dozen sizeable steaks to a full-sized deer or whatever he could readily hunt down.

It could be a chore at times, the costs of maintaining a high-performance machine like himself, but highly satisfying as well.

If they knew and heard him complaining…women around the world would kill him several times over in a crazy-murderous rage.

For days on end, he searched for some sign of where he could find his friends, family, his love. The police chief, Charlie, would, on occasion come and check up on him. He seemed to feel that an eighteen year old, alone, needed checking up on every now and then. In less than a few days, it had spread on all the local gossip channels that he, a kid by their standards, he had a laugh at that, had purchased the Cullen property. Not that that was out of the ordinary. No. An eighteen year old purchasing a property worth several hundreds of thousands of dollars, at the drop of a hat, was very normal.

But Charlie was friendly enough. He'd actually come out and asked how he could afford to do it. In return, he just grinned back and recommended a few promising investments.

Alice had her visions.

Him? He had the Devil's luck.

In his explanation, he wrote it off as money from some small jobs that he'd later invested and gotten lucky with. Really lucky. And at the not so subtle questioning, he'd also made note that he'd purchased the house for several reasons: he liked the area, he liked the quiet town and had always wanted a house of his own, and there was still the off-chance that the Cullens might return.

…Eventually.

Still… He knew there was something he was forgetting. Something Carlisle'd told him once about the area, but it eluded him. Unfortunately, it wasn't something he would remember until Thursday, two days after his power was switched back on.

Flashback

November waning fast, the forests were blanketed in varying levels of white. He understood why the chosen location for the house was so perfect when he decided to go for a morning run. It was beautiful, serene. And he should know. There was no one knew nature like he did. Well…she was a close second.

Bare feet padded softly, almost silently, through the snow, the crisp cold not bothering him in the slightest. It was actually very refreshing considering he'd been under the scorching desert sun for the last half of his time away. Oh, he'd missed the trees… He reveled in the winter forest's scents. Evergreens, rotting vegetation, wet earth, and moist air. Kicking off from the base of a massive spruce, he was among the tree tops, bounding from limb to limb.

This wasn't the first time he'd done so, and was quickly becoming familiar with the dense forest. He wasn't a fool though. He knew he was being followed, tracked. And he knew that, to track him, his pursuers weren't "normal." A few days into his arrival, he'd noticed he was being watched, and, he knew immediately, not by humans. The massive paw prints were proof of that. And like a tickle in the back of his mind, he knew he should know who was spying on him. Something Carlisle had spoken of… But they were being careless.

His senses were far sharper than even a vampire's.

In a perfect swan dive he dropped from the high branches, curling in the last few meters before landing quietly in a crouch, his impact muffled by the layer of snow that had permeated the canopy and reached the earthen floor. Okay, so maybe he was showing off a little for his audience. No one had reign enough over him to say he couldn't. Scanning the area, certain there were no normals in the area, "Alright, this' gone on long enough," he muttered sourly. They were seriously upsetting his groove. Taking a deep breath of the brisk air, "I know you've been following me. So come on out before I start hunting you," he called.

There was no echo; the damp, snow-covered forest stifling the excess volume. Silence followed. Catching a whiff of something…odd, his eyes cut to the side. From the shadowed bushes and trees emerged the forms of three massive wolves. Big. They could easily stand shoulder-to-shoulder with himself. He let out a low whistle of appreciation. "Wow…Grow 'em big out here," he said with an amused snicker.

One of the wolves crept forward, snarling, only to pause at a rough growl from what he assumed was the leader of this pack. Each wolf was nearly the size of a small rhino, but their size, build, and fur color varied between individuals. Turning the focus of his attention back on the leader, the pair appraised one another in the traditional manner of sizing up an opponent. A silent contest of stares and posturing.

That's when it clicked for him.

Light bulb.

5 watts.

Snapping his fingers, "Right, right…I remember now. You're the locals," he said with a wicked smirk. The gargantuan canines tensed in preparation.

The leader, a massive black creature, sent brief glances and short, muffled woofs to its subordinates before stepping forward. Hardly feeling threatened at all, the blonde allowed it, observing with amused interest. The lead wolf's features began to blur, almost like watering down the edges on a painted portrait, sharp angles flattening, shrinking. When a humanoid shape took form, one of the wolves, the smallest of the trio, a large, shaggy, grey-brown beast, trod over to stand in front of the now decidedly male leader, its back blocking everything from the chest down.

"Huh, well that was neat." That was all he'd given. After all, he'd seen enough to not be too surprised by much anymore.

"What are you?" the easily twenty male asked. His complexion was decidedly Native American from the heavy tan and the shape of his face. And, on that subject, he had a hard face, not just structurally, but in expression. "Why are you here?" His tone was less than happy, reflecting general distrust, and a sense of wariness, as if ever ready for the oncoming attack.

He just snorted. "Straight to the point, eh, kid?" Nonchalantly scratching his nose, "You could've just come by the house and asked." He really didn't appreciate being half-flashed by a guy, under any circumstances.

"Answer the question," the wolf-man ground out tersely.

"I'd rather not." Nose itch-free, his arms crossed over his chest. "You already know I'm not a vampire. Why should I tell you what I am?" The snappy wolf from earlier snarled, stepping forward until it got another look of reprimand from the human-form leader. "I know about your treaty with the Cullens," he continued.

"They're gone from here."

Eyes hardening, "True, but you'd do well to maintain that treaty around me. The next time you want to chat, pick up the phone or host a barbeque. I won't abide uninvited guests." He and the leader spent a long moment staring one another down.

Soon enough, "Don't cause trouble in our town," the lupine alpha warned before, quite literally, bursting out of his own skin, retaking his giant wolf's form.

But he just waved them off as easily as he did the underlying threat. "Sure, sure. We'll do lunch someday." He got some dirty looks, but the canines melted back into the forest. "So they're the neighbors… So nice meeting new people."

Flashback End

(Third Week of December)

Pick a sense.

Anyway you looked at it, he'd long picked up the vehicle heading his way. No big. The moment it entered the three-mile final stretch, with barely a thought, his doppelganger faded into the ether leaving him to tend the grill himself.

While he'd understood the reason, it was still tragic, the neglect it'd seen. Bought purely to sell the illusion that the former occupants had been human, never to see use. But that had all changed.

He'd broken it in right.

One wild boar.

A gallon of homemade barbeque sauce.

…And him.

Oh yeah. That'd been a nice night.

Gravel crunching loudly, to him anyway, the vehicle came to a stop. "Chief Swan," he greeted, waving lazily. The good-natured howdy-do wasn't entirely a front. He liked Chief Swan. He was a true model to his profession, but, standing out the most, in mannerisms he reminded him of the Nara clan. Not so much lazy, just happily content with the monotony of his life.

Ironic considering how much went on in Forks under his nose.

December in full swing, it had brought the winds and deeper snows in its wake. So while he felt comfy in casual everyday clothes, the police chief was taking full advantage of his heavy jacket. "Settling in nicely," Charlie appraised at the sight of the smoking grill. A bit cold, but grilling wasn't necessarily limited to summer.

Nodding, "Checking up on me again?" he asked wryly before lifting up a piece of meat. "Tenderloin?" He didn't have a gun, nor did he need one, but he still maintained a hunting license. That way, right off the bat, he could fend off any interested game wardens.

Charlie was actually very tempted. The smells coming off the grill had already started his mouth to watering. "No, uh, that's alright."

"Sure? Yearling from just this morning." Smothered in fresh garlic and a few other spices.

"…I came up here because I don't know if you've heard about the deaths in the area." The teen was silent, but he gave the man his attention. "We've had some animal attacks in the area lately. Folks think it's a bear. I can't tell you not to, but I'd recommend you stay out of the woods unless you have to. Just thought I'd let you know." He nodded in understanding.

"Good to know." Though…he wondered about those attacks.

Turning to leave though, Charlie was stopped by an insistently offered plate. Handing it to him, surprisingly already wrapped, the warmth and smell told him all he needed about what was under the foil. "I was always taught that if you've got something more than you need, to pass it on," the teen supplied with a grin. "And I cooked up enough for a few days." Technically, a mistruth. He doubted the mini-feast would last the night.

Head giving a twitchy incline, Charlie accepted the dish, already drooling in anticipation.

A few days later though, he was offered an invitation to the police chief's house to see some sports event on tv. Not that he was unaware of sports. Alice's family was into baseball. And, when they were together, Emmett would pull together the occasional football game. Full on contact football.

She was one Hell of a defensive tackle.

(Charlie's PoV)

He was a good kid, far as he could tell. That and his relative isolation had been the reasons spurring Charlie to invite the teen over to his house to watch the game with him and Billy Black. Normally, for someone his age, peers would be best, but from the few conversations he'd had with him he was surprisingly mature.

Shoving the screen door open, Charlie beckoned the teen inside his home.

"Mr. Uzumaki."

"Just Naruto, sir." Charlie shrugged, guiding the teen through the house and into the living room. Wherein he was introduced to a dark-haired man of strong Native American descent.

"Naruto, then. Make it even, call me Charlie." The same felt odd, but he wasn't one to linger on such. "This is Billy Black," reaching over, he shook hands with the man in the wheelchair. The name and the strong skin complexion made him lean towards a connection to the local Quilliot tribe that he'd met.

(Billy's mindset)

In that moment, the boy'd passed a particular test.

The handshake…

It'd proven fairly conclusively what he was not, if by physical warmth alone.

"Nice to meet you, son," Billy greeted amiably, though the blonde perceived an odd glint in the eyes of the chestnut skinned man. "Ready for the game?"

Naruto's laugh had a tinge of irony to it. "Not really. I've been on the road a lot the last few years. I haven't really had the chance to catch anything." Technically true. The full truth would be to tell them that it would be difficult to get ESPN in the middle of the Gobi desert, especially considering how lightly he'd lived. "I'm a little out of touch."

Billy's eyes widened just a little before his lips twitched in a solemn grin. "Charlie, we've got to help this boy," he said in mock seriousness. Nodding sagely in agreement, Charlie pushed the teen over to the couch, passing him a soda while the (cough) older (cough) pair indulged in a six-pack.

Between gameplay, the conversation changed hands almost as often as it changed topics. "So you bought up the Cullen place?" Billy asked innocently enough. "Your family must be well off."

"Heh, there's no family. It's just me." Taking a draw from his soda, ignoring the burning itch from all the artificial additives, it really wasn't all that bad. "Did odd jobs while in the orphanage until I was fifteen. Then, I left the orphanage and started working here and there. Then I got really lucky in the stock market." Of course, he didn't mention when either of these events happened. He'd left the orphanage so very long ago, at the age of four to be precise, and had gotten into the market somewhere in the late nineteen-thirties after the Depression when things were dirt cheap and finally starting to turn around.

"School? College?" Charlie asked, inadvertently thinking about his daughter.

"I've got a high school degree. College…Well, I've read the textbooks," he explained a little uncomfortably. "But I haven't officially taken the classes. Been too busy. Wanted to see what else was out there in the world." Charlie didn't quite agree with that, but it wasn't his place. Further conversation halted as the game took over the television once more, distracting them.

He suspected that the Indian, descriptor not meant in disrespect, was in some way affiliated with the…welcoming committee. Ethnicity aside, it was the hint of wariness coming off him after the introduction, the lingering look of contemplation during the handshake. Doubtless, the pups had let slip about him to those they trusted.

Thankfully, they, like the rest of the world, knew quite little, but knew enough to keep quiet.

As the saying went: knowing just enough to keep yourself alive, but more than enough to get yourself killed.

Thank any and all deities for small favors.

The game ended just as the light disappeared from the sky. The days were so short in this cloud ensconced little town. Not that there was all that much direct light to begin with. It was more like an…ambiance that set the clouds aglow during the day. There was some post game talk, nothing more serious than points of view on player performances.

Shaking hands with Billy, "Good to meet you, sir." Billy's smile was a bit more reserved than his, hard not to be when compared to his casual megawatt grin, but it was still friendly. Bidding his goodbyes, he was followed to the door by Charlie.

"You should come by in two weeks. It's gonna be me, Billy, and his son, Jacob for the big one," he offered from the door as the teen made his way to his parked motorcycle, straddling it. "The more, the merrier."

Lights twinkled before turning into twin glaring beams, a loud, powerful engine heading their way. From his peripheral vision, he not only made out the shape of the old truck, but the description of the driver.

"Looking forward to it. 'Night," the teen agreed, putting on his helmet. In time with the truck pulling to a stop in the driveway, the bike slid by, a lazy wave sent to the driver before he disappeared into the blackness.

"Bella. Hey, honey." Charlie's tone was light, reflecting his relaxed mood from the day of sports watching and debating.

Swinging a backpack over her shoulder, she closed the door. "Hey, dad," closing the distance to her father and the door. "Who was that?"

"Game night, Bell'," he reminded, pulling to the side to let her in. This was the Bella he'd come to know lately. She would go to school and work, but robotically. The more time she'd spent with Jacob lately, the less frequent her night-terrors had become, to which he was immensely grateful. She just wasn't…alive inside. It killed him to see her going about her daily routine with her eyes, once fierce, dead as they were.

"So who was that?" she asked again. "Don't tell me Billy owns a motorcycle," she joked, a little rigidly, the front door closing.

"Not my style," Billy chimed amusedly from the living room, as good as telling them that he could hear them, but didn't mind. "I'm more of a classic Camaro guy." Charlie tried to hide his smile.

"You've probably heard the local gossip," Charlie answered, taking the lead into the living room, and heading to the couch with Billy. "Lives up at the Cullen place," internally wincing at his slip of the tongue. That name was taboo around her. It'd only been a few weeks since she'd started leaving the house again. He mentally praised Jacob for that, being a friend.

And, in all honesty, Jacob was someone he'd known and trusted a lot more than Edward Cullen. He trusted Carlisle implicitly, but, between the two boys, Jacob was a head over Edward.

Billy shook his head. "Poor boy was sports deprived," getting a snort from Charlie. Rolling her eyes, she said goodnight, informing Billy that Jacob would be over to pick him up, before shuffling up the stairs.

Stowing her bag, Bella was mentally running through the town gossip she'd heard, most of it from Jessica. Normally, she wouldn't be too interested, but the circumstances were different. She'd seen enough weird to know when it moved into the same town as her. The haze that had ensconced her, held her like a tightly wrapped blanket, loosened enough for her thoughts to flare. The question was…what kind of weird? And did he know the Cullens? Did he know where they were, how to find them?

Mind buzzing, she exhaled loudly before falling back onto her bed for another night of fitful dreaming.

The wolves were still watching him. Smells on the air alone told him that. His more abstract ability to sense them kept him well informed enough.

It was a good thing he'd learned patience. Exercising day in and day out just to pass the time would have gotten to him eventually, but he'd learned how to wait. Though he wasn't sure how many times he could clean the engine of his bike before it would start to wear on the vehicle.

Two weeks later, Saturday:

"Hey, Charlie, where're the chips?" Jacob, ever the growing teen was the first to notice the atrocity that was the coffee table…barren of sustenance.

"Kitchen."

"I'll get 'em, Charlie," Naruto offered, getting up from the couch. It was Saturday, and, for the first time since he'd starting coming, he'd been introduced to Jacob, Billy's son. Good kid, far as he could tell. And Harry Clearwater, another person who, upon introduction, gave him the same look Billy had before.

The living room was packed.

Almost immediately upon crossing the threshold into the kitchen did he spot the bright bag of chips on the counter. Tortilla chips, upon closer inspection. Beside the bag were a pair of bowls one a large, the other small, both quite empty. Assuming that the larger was meant to hold the chips, he broke the seal and emptied the bag of its contents. But where… "Hey, Charlie, where's the salsa?" he called over his shoulder, but from the uproar he doubted that they had heard him.

"It's in the refrigerator." Glancing back, he was reminded that Charlie had a daughter as she was at that moment standing awkwardly in the kitchen doorway. Odd that she should seem nervous, and be giving him an almost searching stare. What struck him at first was how pale she was. Then, there was the resemblance to Charlie. Big or little, there were always traits from a parent. Time had gifted him with growing awareness. He could see some similarities in the face, hinting at that similitude. "Behind the milk, I think."

Taking her presence in stride, he stepped over to the fridge, tugging the door open. It only took a second to get accustomed to the contents before… Shifting the milk aside, the white liquid sloshing, he was rewarded with the sight of glass jar of salsa. Extra hot…ooooooh. "Sweet," he cheered, approving, before stepping away and raising the jar in a toasting gesture as he closed the door. "Thanks." Popping the top, he emptied the whole lot of it into the smaller bowl, much as he had done with the chips. "Bella, eh?" he asked as he worked. "Charlie's mentioned you."

"You bought the Cullens' house." No question, and abrupt. It was simply stating that it was the kind of thing that made a person memorable.

"Mhm," he answered. "That'd be me. Figure Carlisle'd want me to look after it for him," he replied, slipping past her with both bowls, headed for the center of the din. Jacob gave a hearty cheer for the arrival of the chips. "What'd I miss?"

An intentional slip. Especially since the first time he'd been in Charlie's home he'd picked up the scent of another person. A scent that he'd found in his new home. Given the strength, it meant that she'd spent a good deal of time with the Cullen family, in their home. Something not done casually.

Her mind skipped a beat, wondering if she'd heard what she thought she had. "You know Carlisle?" she asked his retreating form, but too late. He wasn't there to answer the question, but it still escaped her lips as she stood there, alone, in the kitchen.

He was her own age, or at least close. Though she knew that that could be deceptive.

Charlie had said he was new in town.

And yet he seemed so familiar with the Cullen family

…As if he'd known them a long time.

Could he be…

No, he couldn't… He was eating…normal food.

Sure, Edward had eaten a bite of apple once, but he'd compared it to eating dirt. This guy…he was gorging on the junk foods at the same pace as Jacob.

Then what…

(And more time passes)

That's the one thing about time that always rang true: it passed, in the blink of an eye or in the dripping of molasses.

He'd begun noticing changes, most specifically around Charlie's daughter. Like she was watching him for…something. He knew from the first moment he'd stepped into the house for that first game. Picking up her scent, he'd immediately matched it to the faint traces in Carlisle's house.

He wouldn't call it his. If they never returned, he would claim it, but still leave to find them. If they did return, he would give it back to them. Carlisle was the patriarch. He was a father figure to them all, even him. Okay, step-father.

But, back to the younger Swan…

Some pieces had slipped into place. More than ever was he certain that she was at the core of their leaving, intentionally or not. Letting slip that he knew Carlisle had been as much a test as it had been a clue. He'd intentionally clued her in, and gained the evidence to back his supposition that she was aware of the Cullen's…secret. Leaving the room, he'd heard her heart start to race, likely then guessing a connection twixt him and the Cullens, further evidenced by the uneasy, questioning looks sent his way throughout the rest of the afternoon.

Glancing to the window from where he sat, he focused lazily on the presences he could feel. A portion of the wolves had taken to trekking the borderlands, due to his residence he had no doubts. Speaking of, the pack had grown larger by several heads. He wasn't sure he knew yet how that happened, but neither did he care all that much either. It wasn't his business.

The killings had begun to concern him. The wolves didn't show the signs of being savage, so he knew they weren't involved. The only other explanation he could come up with was a vampire encroaching on the area. One far less respectful of human life than the Cullens.

Beach, La Push: (Jacob explaining his tribe's Wolf thing)

"Then is Naruto a vampire?" Bella asked, eager for answers. Jacob frowned, shifting uneasily under her eyes.

"We, uh, we're not sure," he answered curtly. "We know he's not human, but beyond that…" he shrugged noncommittally. "We've got nothing really. But he seems to know bloodsuckers, so we're keeping an eye on him anyway."

Chewing her lip, "I think he knows Carlisle." Jacob sent her an interested look of his own. "Just something he said a few weeks back about Carlisle probably wanting him to look after the place."

"Yeah, that's the impression we're all getting. Doesn't give us any clues though," savagely clenching and unclenching his fists in frustration.

"Have you asked him?"

Jacob went rigid. "No, Bella, and neither should you." Intense brown eyes bored into her. "This isn't the kind of thing where you can just go poking around. We don't know what he wants. Vamp or not, he could just be biding his time." Bella chose silence in response Jacob's rather close-minded outlook on vampires. The Cullens were the perfect example that not everyone was what they seemed, nor that they were as bloodthirsty as others.

If he'd had any sense, Jacob would've had an eye on her for the next few days. He should've expected her want for the truth to get the better of her sense of self-preservation.

AN/ This is just a taste. I'm mostly just going to hit the relevant points of New Moon so that I can start on the next book. So, for the sake of clarity, New Moon is just the prologue chapters.