Chapter One:
Nineteen Years Ago:
The world was bleak and bare. The branches beside Bella's head shook with every breath she took, and the leaves fluttered gently, half covering her face.
She was hiding. The bush that enclosed her was huge, and she cowered in its roots, waiting.
She watched as the casket was lowered into the ground.
Men and women sobbed, clutching onto each other for comfort, completely ignorant of the girl watching them with large unblinking eyes.
Bella wasn't afraid of death. She understood the concept well enough to realize the body in the ground would never rise again. That, was not why she was hiding.
She peeked around a twig brushing her cheek, and examined the woman holding a tissue to her nose, softly weeping.
She, was the reason Bella hid now.
The woman dropped the tissue to her chest as she gasped for air, drawing her eyes upward to not only hold back the tears, but avoid seeing the final thump of the casket against the soil.
Bella wondered if anyone realized who this woman was, if she was the only one.
A man with large hands and a gruff expression, took her elbow and let her lean into him. She looked so beside herself that for a moment Bella's childish mind wondered if she'd practiced at home.
Bella shifted, her knees scraping the earth underneath her.
The man gave her a final squeeze around her shaking soldiers and backed away with what Bella assumed to be condolences.
Bella had no interest in this part of the evening. She wasn't here to watch a well-rehearsed actor play the role of a grieving widow.
No, she was there to make sure that everything went okay.
Charlie had told her with a very stern gaze and tight lips that the hunt wasn't for her to be a part of, that she didn't need to see that kind of violence.
He had told her to stay in the barracks awaiting his return, but Bella had been too worried.
Weeks before, when Charlie had been hunting a particularly strong leech, the bloodsucker had gotten his claws into him, and flayed the skin of his chest away with an agonizing swipe of those iron hard fingers.
She wanted to be sure that he would be okay.
Sure, sure, this would be an easy one, but she didn't know how strong he was, and how strong his stubborn pride made him.
Her ripped jeans underneath her four-year-old knees snagged on a rock, but she ignored the slight discomfort.
The funeral party was starting to disperse, tapping the woman's arm, or giving her a peck, as they headed to their cars, tears fresh in their eyes.
The woman nodded with a small smile and carefully heartbroken eyes as she waved them off.
Bella saw the woman's aura tremble with impatience, as she tried to bid a particularly choked up old man to his daughter's car.
She sensed the four hunters beside her, and held her breath as they passed her hiding spot.
The taller one, was her father, dressed in all black carrying an axe with a tight fist as he led the group.
The three men behind him probably didn't notice the small roll of his shoulder, but Bella did, and grimaced at the sharp pain that shot through his aura.
The woman raised a shuddering hand to the air, and waved to the cars as they left. When all of them were safely down the lot, and pulling into the highway traffic, she swiped away the mascara under her eyes.
The annoyance Bella saw just moments ago swiftly morphed into one of excitement.
Father Griffin, as Bella knew him by, had been standing at the head of the grave, silently waiting for the mourners to leave.
"Well that took longer than expected."
The woman shoved out of her black cashmere sweater and leaned against the parallel headstone, stretching her pale neck as she leaned back and pulled out her muscles.
They day was gray and the sun was nowhere to be seen, but Bella and the hunters knew that even with the smallest of rays, that ivory skin would be set alight, sparkling across the grass.
Father Griffin watched her with shock as she rid herself of the pretense of grief.
"Mrs-Ms. Longhell?"
She leaned forward, and let a seductive smile spread her lips to reveal two large canines.
"It's ironic really, to think of how he'll come back."
The priest looked flustered.
"M-Ma'am?"
She laughed, the tears drying on her cheeks.
Bella heard the men beside her lean forward with anticipation.
That was the rules. They needed proof before an attack.
Bella watched with wide eyes, this wasn't what she had been expecting. She had thought that once they were alone, her father would lead the charge to her death.
But that is not what happened, because she wasn't alone. Why was the Father still there? Didn't the woman need him gone for what she had planned?
"See, I think when I tell him he was raised by a fucking priest, he will wet his little pants laughing."
The priest looked flustered and began to retreat away from the grave.
"I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about."
She just advanced on him with cat like agility.
"That's half the fun though. The not knowing. The other half, well." She licked her budding teeth. "I guess that part is self explanatory."
With no more warning, she lunged, and the hunters in black swarmed her.
Bella craned up in the bush to watch.
Her father had taken the woman in his arms, and the little blonde began to thrash violently, landing a blow to Charlie's throat.
He gasped for air, but as his training demanded, held his hold on her.
Father Griffin was gasping with shock, and Bella could see him scrambling back, falling onto his back, looking at the scene above him with terror.
The only reason Bella wasn't crying out with fear as the man was, was because she understood not only the planning behind the careful execution of the vampire, but just how good the team her Father had behind him.
Sam, the huge one with enormous biceps, was holding down the woman's arms, with what Bella could guess from the many arm wrestles they had, a fist of steel. Despite the size of him, he was a real gentle giant. The career he had been forced into fit his physical capability, but not his heart.
The one with long legs, that reached to help hold her ankles, was what she knew to be the ever so quick Billy. He was a man with great passion and had the kind of smile that made Bella's insides warm.
The last figure, was the one that she really believed she could count on. He was holding the blonde's hair as Charlie tried to get a good grip.
It was her Paul. Although he was the youngest, she really trusted him. He was the big brother she always dreamed of.
In Charlie's hands the woman was fighting for her life. The aura she put off was dull, and Bella knew she was weak from thirst.
They formed the "T" just as practiced. Sam was holding the woman's left arm, while Paul left the head to take the right. Sam's rock hard hands were locked around the feet, which left Charlie at the neck.
"Get the fuck off me!" The woman seethed, but Charlie only held fast. The axe he had brought, lay under his belt now, and he moved to reach it.
At that same moment, the blonde spun in his arm with a sudden ferocity. Her arms ripped free, but Sam's hands, still in place, snapped her pretty little feet off.
She roared in agony, lunging for Charlie's neck.
No. No. Bella knew he wasn't ready for this.
She was four years old, and she suddenly felt inadequate. She searched her brain for a plausible way to distract the leech long enough to give her Dad the seconds he needed, to twist the head away from the body.
The rock under knee began to dig into her, and Bella had inspiration. She picked up the small rock, and watched the fight in front of her, waiting, for her chance.
"Get her off!" Charlie bellowed.
Sam tossed away the shattered feet and raced to the woman.
It was too late.
The fangs had drawn back, and with a snarl, lips the color of tulips closed around his throat.
Bella screamed as she cut her palm, letting the blood flow free down her fingers.
Present Day:
With a shake of her shoulders, she rolled back her fist, gently bouncing on her heels. The bag swayed in front of her, and she shook the sweaty hair from her head.
It had been a long day, and she desperately needed to cool off.
The music started to the next song, and she sent a small smile to Jake, leaning against the wall.
He was watching her, studying her face. She always seemed so exulted when she did this, pounding those small hands with cutting precision into the leather.
"Sinatra? Really?" She chuckled, still bobbing with adrenaline.
"Don't mock the classics."
She shrugged, sending a quick punch out, hitting with half of her strength.
Jacob pushed off the wall, and came towards her freakishly hyped up form.
"Bells, you've been at this for three hours."
She threw another fist into the bag, a little harder now.
"I didn't ask you to stay." She muttered.
He rolled his eyes, "You didn't have to. Bells-"
She silenced him when she round house kicked the weathered cloth, leaving a dent in the stuffing.
"Listen, I get it." She started, she began to jump a little higher, and focused her energy into her palms. "You're worried. Don't be. I'm fine."
Jacob opened his mouth to retort that she certainly was exhibiting the behavior of someone who certainly was not fine, but she started slamming her fingers into the bag, cutting off his sentence with loud smacks.
He leaned back into his spot and waited her out. She would tire, and then they'd talk.
It was nineteen years to the day she lost her Dad, and they both knew it. He was just the only one willing to actually talk about it.
Bella let her mind go as she pushed her muscles to the brink, challenging herself. She knew Jake was trying to help, she understood that he hated to see her hurt. But that wasn't her fault, she had tried to shoo him away, tried to tell him that she just wanted some serious ass kicking time in the gym, but he had been unwavering. He kept looking at her as if she was going to fall apart, buckle down and cry into his neck.
But she want that kind of person. That wasn't her therapy.
Her therapy, was being alone in a dark room, punching the shit out of an inanimate object.
It felt good, it felt raw.
Her knuckles were screaming, but she was too deep into it to notice.
She heard the bell go off and she gave the bag a final punch right were a mans throat would be.
She wiped away the sweat and looked over at Jacob.
He was still staring at her.
"Quit." She glared at him.
"You need to talk to someone Bells. If not me, maybe Paul, or even Sam. Everyone is concerned."
"They shouldn't be. And you know what, its none of their fucking business."
She was careful to refer to the others as a separate group from Jacob. She knew it was his business, and also knew that he was as infuriatingly stubborn as her.
The smell of pancakes wafted into the grimy air, and she took a long drag, almost like a cigarette.
"Let's just skip all this and get some chow."
She reached down to her towel and rubbed her face and shoulders.
Jacob wanted to reach out, and tuck a bundle of hair that had been molded by sweat, behind her ear. But he knew right now, physical contact was out of the question.
Her father had been her only blood left, and when he died, so had a part of her. Jacob had tried desperately for hours to crack that tough exterior, to be there for her, but she didn't want his help. She was determined to suffer alone for sins she thought she committed.
She plopped down the towel and took a swig from the water bottle.
"Bella, you know I'm here for you right? I mean, you know you can-"
"Talk? I thought that was what we were doing." She interrupted him with a grin, trying to change his train of thought.
He wasn't fooled.
"You know what I mean. About-"
"I know what you mean." She sighed, setting down the bottle. "Trust me on this. I got it. I'm okay."
But she wasn't. Even after the hours and hours with the bag, she still felt hazy and disconcerted. Her mind tried to replay the scene stuck in her mind, but she refused to go there.
Jacob leaned forward, crossing his arms.
"I really think-"
"Jacob." She looked him straight in the eye now. "I got it. Please. I'm alright."
She needed him to give her space, needed him to realize that now, right now, it just wasn't the time.
Two large arms encompassed her, and lifted her sweat stained self off the ground.
"Are you done yet kid? I got plans with the ass."
Jacob nodded, understanding that Sam was asking for him to give them room.
As he passed Bella, he brushed his fingers against hers.
"If you want too…"He paused, and before finishing the sentence, left the room.
She watched him leave over Sam's shoulder.
Jacob was such a good kid. He just didn't understand. He had Billy, the best kind of father anyone could hope for. She was alone, she had no one.
Sam laughed and patted her butt as she was set down.
"You know that kid has it bad for you. Like, mushy-teenage-smitten-lovey-dovey-I-want-to-nail-you-in-the-back-of-my-car kind of thing."
She laughed, and it felt strange in her throat.
"Too bad you're taken already." He snickered as he plopped a noisy kiss onto her cheek.
He wasn't blood, but he was damn close.
"Too bad you have a wife already." She responded, faking a frown.
"I could leave her…" He retorted with a thoughtful expression.
"Shut up."
She punched his arm, and quickly pulled back at the sting on her thumb. It was turning purple.
"Jesus!" He grabbed her hand before she could hide it. "The fuck?" He muttered as he turned her injured appendage carefully.
The stark difference was plain as day. His huge russet fingers over her delicate pale ones, reminded her of how things didn't always turn up how they looked.
"What the hell girl?!" He brought it to his lips, and gave it a peck.
"You really have to lay off." She muttered pulling away.
"And you really need to get the hell over it. Look at this!"
She shrugged, and his shoulders rose with a growl.
"So I got a little carried away…" She started, not caring.
"A little? Bella why the hell would you-?" Understanding flashed in his eyes.
"Oh Bella…"
"Don't."
She pulled her hand away, and rubbed her wrist.
"I-I have to change."
She shoved past him, ignoring his sputtering.
"Come on, don't be like that, just come down and talk-"
She reached the top of the stairs and closed the door over his plea. Why did everyone want to suddenly talk?
That was a stupid question. A selfish one. She knew that everyone was simply worried about her. And she guessed, they had good reason. She had been withdrawing farther and farther within herself, hardening the shell of her exterior. No one was allowed in.
She turned down the corridor, and headed up the second set of stairs, heading for the showers.
She had grown up with this life. She had never known anything but violence and hate. The only reason she hadn't turned into a lifeless blob, was because of the people she surrounded herself with.
Jacob was the first person that came to mind. He had been only a few years older when he had nurtured her four year old self out of an intense depression.
Most people had thought Charlie's death was what kept her so hidden. The idea of being alone. And for a small fraction, it was true. But there was so much more that haunted her, held her back. Yes, she was no rock. She had feelings, and sometimes she longed to share them, but the memory held her back.
The day she had discovered she was different, was the day after Charlie had died. The aura's, things she thought everyone else could see, became just another isolating factor. She had worked hard to hide her, well, her powers, from them. They weren't important, and if anything a constant reminder of what happened. Of what she did.
When she reached the communal bathroom, she peeked in, and when it was found to be empty, she slunk inside, and broke the cardinal rule by locking the door.
She leaned on the sink in front of her, tired.
Her phone buzzed, and she blindly fumbled around in her pocket.
One new text message from Jake. With a sigh she flipped it open.
Hey Bells. Please don't be mad, I'm just worried.
God, stupid kid. She wasn't mad. Not even annoyed. She was closed, unavailable for probing and unwilling to change. She racked her mind for the right thing to say. The human thing to say.
I'm not mad. Just let it go kid.
That was the best she could do for now. She flipped her cell closed and pushed it back into her butt pocket when she felt it vibrate again. Ignoring it, she shrugged out of her tank and jeans, and headed for the warm confines of the shower.
Now that she was alone, she let herself think about him. Miss him. Now that no one could judge or comfort, she allowed the tears to come.
God she missed him. God the guilt was so hard to take.
But she had to. She righted her shoulders under the spray, and let the water wash away the evidence of her sorrow.
This was her cross to bear.
She reached for the shampoo, and lathered it on her long brunette locks, just going through the motions. Now longer was she in a safe haven, she realized, she was putting on a face for just herself now.
When she left the jets, her muscles were still sore, and her thumb bleeding from its beating. If it were possible to apologize to a body part, she would have.
She dried off, and grabbed the clothes on the floor. After a moment she checked her phone, and saw what Jacob had texted.
Don't call me kid.
She grinned. He always shut up when he needed too.
She grabbed a towel, slung it around herself, and headed to the girls barracks.
Sitting on the plush couch they had found for free on craigslist, sat Leah and Angela. Leah gave me a stiff nod, and Bella returned it, grateful for her lack of emotion to the date. Angela on the other hand rose and came to her with big hazel eyes.
"Bella honey, are you okay?"
"Uh, yeah."
Angela was the sweetest girl she had ever met, but today she really hoped Leah would rub off on her.
Angela bit her lip and rubbed Bella's naked arms.
"Bella-"
"Ang." The strong voice from the voice from the couch sounded and they turned to look at her.
She glanced up at them, and nodded at Angela.
"Leave her alone."
Angela looked back at her, and with a small frown, kissed Bella's cheek.
"You know I love you right?"
Leah made gagging sounds.
"Yeah Ang."
She patted Bella's shoulder, and turned to join Leah back on the couch.
She awkwardly turned to her chest, and dressed in black leather pants and a gray sweatshirt.
All the other girls had taped posters from magazines all over the walls, but not Bella's. Her bunk was bare, and the only thing adorned on her section of wall, was a small map of sightings. She lived and breathed this stuff.
For everyone else, it was a job. A duty. For her, it was a life. Something she could throw herself into. Not to mention she was fucking good.
At twenty-three she had tracked more leeches than all the other girls combined.
She remembered when she was little, begging to be part of the hunt. But it was simply stupid. Females lacked the appropriate strength to successfully restrain and decapitate a struggling vampire. No, she was what in the hunting circle called, a singer.
She, as she had been told so often, had a delectable smell that made vampires in a fifty mile radius drop their stupid deers, and run for her. Using this, she was able to track them. Either by smell, sight, or sound, she could tell the others where they were and how they were going to attack. It also helped that she could sense their auras hundreds of acres away. Of course, no one else knew that.
This being her job, she was essentially a bribe, who was smart enough to know how she was going to be caught.
Sam was the new leader after Charlie passed, and took the position at the front. Quil, Jacob and Embry were all spotters. They all held the limbs while the lead took the head. The only position left, was for the guards. Those lovely spots, were left for the best of the best, Paul and Billy.
They had both the skills, and the brains to back up the group.
After tying back her hair, she plopped down on the thin mattress and sighed into the scratchy cotton sheets. At least it was familiar.
"Tell me again, just one more time motherfucker, who the hell you are."
Edward watched the man in front of him. He was not scared by the human flesh that towered before him. He knew that underneath his own skin, muscles of steel lay, ready and unyielding.
"I said, you fucking piece of garbage, what the fuck are you!?"
Edward rolled back his shoulders as he tried not to imagine all the ways he could subdue the screaming individual in front of him by sinking his throbbing fangs into his fat neck.
"My name is Edward."
The man growled, and cracked his knuckles.
"I don't believe I asked for your name, what are you? And if you fucker lie to me, I'll snap that pretty little neck of yours. "
Edward didn't doubt that if he had been human, the man easily could have. Hell, he probably had already.
He felt Alice's hand grasp his shirt by the back and tow him back.
"Easy…"She whispered. She understood the intense need running through Edwards veins, for she felt it too.
"Listen to me, you fucking cunt. Your life is about to be a thing in the motherfucking past. Answer me!"
Edward rubbed his eyes. The pounding inside of him demanded blood. Demanded not only to fill his stomach with the warm coppery liquid, but to punish the fool who dared attempt rape on an innocent teenager .
Behind the shadow of the enormous chest, lay a girl, clothes shredded, weeping into the bricks behind her.
"Please, please…" She begged.
Edward had been careless. He hadn't been thinking when he had walked over to the man, literally throwing him off the girl, at least twenty feet.
The girl reached out with her hand, grasping towards Alice.
"Jasper…"Edward hissed under his breath.
He felt his brother immediately shrug through the door, leaving the pumping music from inside and moving to look at the situation. After sensing the murder the man truly intended to follow through on, he leaned back into the metal doorway, and forced the man into a deep and intense slumber.
When he fell, the body hit the ground hard and Edward felt the pavement groan underneath him.
The girl held the tattered mini dress to her breasts, and began to huff out a scream. Alice swooped over to her, and after a quick examination, nodded for Jasper.
The girl stopped hyperventilating and fell back into Alice with a sigh.
"You know Edward,"Alice started, "I appreciate the hero stuff. I really do." She lifted the passed out girl easily into her hands, and rolled her eyes at the small snores. "But this whole lets-take-on-every-bad-guy thing has gotten us a lot of almosts."
She walked the girl over to a park bench covered in trash. "Almost killing a rapist, almost throwing a car out of parking lot, almost stopping a train…" She set the girl down, and wiped her hands down her periwinkle cardigan.
"Almost revealing ourselves at every god damn turn."
She had just wanted one night. One night for normal living, human, stuff. One night, to grind up on Jasper in a club, simply because she wanted to.
Edward dropped his hand from his face and looked up at her with dark circles under topaz irises.
She tsked at what she saw.
"How long?"
It had been a month.
"A week or so."
She saw his lie, and rolled her eyes.
"You're starving. Edward you need to eat."
Alice gestured to the girl. "Just take a little. Just to tide you off."
No, he couldn't. He just couldn't.
His whole body demanded that he take what he so frantically craved, but his mind held strong. He had lasted two hundred years without even a drop, and starting now, well that would destroy him.
Alice looked at him with an annoyed expression and a waiting frown. She drank readily from humans whenever she pleased. She felt it wasn't a crime, as long as you left them alive and healthy. She was no murderer, but she was no saint.
"No Alice."
She lowered her gaze and her frown intensified.
"She won't even feel you, come on!" She started when he started to shake his head.
"Edward, how about this: If you don't drink something, anything, really, really soon, you will go under." Her voice was chilly and held the truth of someone who had seen the world fall.
She was much older then him, maybe by a couple centuries. She had seen both of the world wars, the civil war, the Spanish-American War, she had seen it all. And by living through all of that hate, seeing all of that death, she understood the ramifications of ignoring ones urges. She had confided in him that once when she had gone a particularly long while, she had slaughtered and drained a whole family. Including the dog.
He looked at the dozing girl. It would have been so easy to sink his fangs into her milky skin and let his primal instincts take over. But that face, covered in glitter and grime, bruised cheeks and a bloody lip, he just couldn't do it.
In the country, the open plains allowed for a lot of animals. He could just easily grab one hopping on by for a midnight snack. But not in New York City. The whole world was made of cement and hard granite that warded of any habitat. Humans had very little regard for wildlife, he had learned, if it didn't belong in a zoo.
He turned away from the oh so inviting and stomach curling scene, and ignored the soft curse at his back. He was faced with the rapist.
The mans plump yet sturdy body had crumpled like tissue paper under Jasper's gaze. Now, lying on the ground, he was snoring loudly and his chest was rising with each labored breath. He smelled of body odor and smoke. But the blood pulsating in the artery was thick and Edwards's definition of perfection.
He thought back to what Alice had said before. About him trying to kill every rapist or every bad man he saw. Was that so bad? Was that really such a horrible thing? To rid the world of one less criminal? One less man forcing his way into some poor girl's legs?
Carlisle's voice rang through his head.
"It isn't our choice Edward. We are not superheroes who have no consequences. We must save the victims, but we must leave the predator for the world to handle. We have no right."
His fingers trembled and he tried to ignore the ringing in his ears. He had hours until he went under. And when he awoke, who knew how long it would take him to recover.
Jasper pushed away from the doorway and came to Edward, laying a hand on his shoulder. Jasper was with him. He had massacred too many families to drink now with no conscience.
"Come on, leave her. Let's go find us a nice rat huh?"
He gestured with his chin to Alice, who was running her hands through her hair, and kicking the bench where the teenager slept.
Edward nodded, and let him lead his emaciated body to the nearest subway.
Jasper stepped into the thumping music and writhing bodies first, leaving Edward enough time to glance behind him at the sleeping girl.
For one moment, he desperately wanted to join her.
He pushed the door open, and stepped through, into the crazed and musty air.
The women were throwing themselves onto him as he passed, and he felt everything through their skimpy clothes. But that is not what made him shove through the mass towards the door, no, it was the thundering of their unknowing hearts in their chests.
Jasper held out a hand, and swung him through the two glass doors, leading them outside.
Edward was gasping and his fangs, now laser sharp and demanding blood, pricked his lips.
Jasper, having drank from a few pigeons not hours before, was flustered, but able to contain himself. Edward on the other hand was vibrating with need akin to pain.
Jasper took his shoulder.
"Come on."
He towed him away, and Edward tried to ignore the ensemble of giggling girls that cooed to them as they left the club in a drugged stupor.
Edward laughed breathlessly to himself.
Humans had no idea. Their skin might as well have been butter to him, and their bones, he could pulverize them to no more than a white sand. And here they were, throwing themselves at the very creatures who could literally suck them dry.
He saw Jasper clench his jaw and knew he felt the same.
When they finally reached the entrance, Jasper released Edward, and shoved him down the stairs.
Edward didn't need to be told twice.
The rapist's fat, prickly neck stayed in his mind as he disappeared into the shadows.
God, even the hunt felt good. The waiting for prey, the crouching in the darkness, the silence, it was all just another drug to him. He craved this just as much as the actual blood.
Jasper left him, and with a nod to the blackness, he left Edward and went to retrieve Alice, who was no doubt feeding by now.
Luckily for Edward, he didn't have to wait long before the scuttling of feet sounded.
He took a long breath, and his eyes snapped open.
It wasn't a rat. It was a raccoon. His mouth watered, and every hair on his body stood up on high alert. So close, so close.
When the furry black ears appeared behind the wall, Edward's body rippled, and his muscles clenched.
When the raccoon put down its first paw, Edward sprang.
His hands closed over the rodent, but that's not what he saw. He saw the man lying behind the clubs' neck. When he bit into the squirming jugular, his whole body shuddered with need.
The animal's weak struggles slowly stopped with a small gurgle and went limp.
This felt right, this felt natural.
When he took the final swig, and nothing came, he released his fangs and looked down at the bloodied fur.
Tears strained beneath his eyes.
Not because he had killed a raccoon. No, his sorrow was much deeper than that.
Slowly, he set the animal down on the pavement, and gently patted down his bite wound.
What he ached for, what his very soul cringed at, was not the death, but who he thought he had killed.
When he had sprung, when he had drank, he hadn't seen the rodent. He had seen the man, he had thought he was the one he had been drinking from in those moments.
He backed away from the corpse, and slid down the white bricks behind him.
He was a monster. He could hide from his urges, he could run from them, but they were there.
He was no murderer, but he was a killer.
Chapter Numero Uno! What do you think? Leave me a review, they make me happy:) New chapter up soon. Thanks for Reading! I'm looking for a beta, if you're interested, PM me!