Stakin' Vampire Ass

Disclaimer: No copyright infringement intended. All rights go to the respectful authors.

A/N: I believe this whole story will be told from Bella's point of view, but, if not, I will be sure to let you know. There are a mix of Vampire Academy and Twilight characters. Some of the fats have been altered a little to make this story work. Even if you haven't read Vampire Academy (which you should, because it is awesome), it is very easy to catch on to and the characters are very lovable. Bella's a little OOC, but it works. Enough of my ramblings. If anything is unclear, just tell me and I'll gladly clear it up for you.

It had been six months, two weeks, four days, fourteen hours, and forty-eight minutes since I last saw Edward Anthony Masen Cullen that day. Not that I had been counting or anything. The bastard meant nothing to me anymore, just a sad reminder of how stupid I had been. I mean honestly; had I really believed that he had fallen in love with me? That he had wanted to be with me forever? That, at some point in our overly fucked up relationship, he would change me into one of them? To be frank, I had been a fucking dumbass.

Not anymore.

Love was now a myth to me. Just some stupid idea someone made up to get a few sad suckers' hopes up, only for them to get crushed in the end. The Cullens were a myth too. They never existed, not to me anyways. I had pushed them to the far recesses of my mind, burying them six feet under alongside all my foolish hopes and dreams. I remember that first week after they left…

I curled in the fetal position under my purple comforter, wearing the one sweater that still smelled of him and letting the tears flow down my face. I had been like this for God knows how long; not moving, not talking, barely blinking and breathing. Charlie seemed to be getting fed up with it all, but I really didn't care. I had the right to be depressed; the love of my life just left forever and told me that he had never loved me, that it was all a lie. He took everything with him, and left me behind like I was nothing to him. I guess I really wasn't… I breathed in a deep whiff of his scent, attempting to memorize the smell so I could never lose it. Another round of crocodile tears ensued.

Charlie stormed into my room and threw the covers off of me at that moment. I immediately curled closer in on myself for warmth. Charlie had the worst look imaginable on his face as he pulled me up by my arm and dragged me to the bathroom. He thrust me in there before leaving, only to return a few moments later with clean clothes, which he threw down on the floor in front of me. I guess he knew that I wouldn't catch them.

"Get ready. Now," he practically growled, then slammed the door. I stood there, frozen, for a moment. Charlie had never been like that with me before. I shook my head slowly and began to get ready, on autopilot. It was hard to part with the sweater, especially when all I wanted to do was crawl back into my bed and wither away to nothing in it.

When I emerged from the bathroom, Charlie was there, waiting for me. He seemed to have calmed down a little, but was still obviously irate. I had no clue as to why he would be even the slightest bit angry with me, but I didn't ask. Instead, I let him pull me to the cruiser and we sped off. I didn't pay any attention to where we were going, just staring ahead unseeingly, until a familiar white house—no mansion—popped into my line of view. NO! He couldnot take me to their house!

He parked the car near the top of the drive, less than a few yards from the manor, and I sat in the passenger seat, stiff as a board, clutching the seat with as much energy as I had left in me. I had had no clue why he had brought me there, to torture me? Because if so, he had been succeeding; there had been so many memories in that house, memories that I now knew were all false. Charlie hit a button on the dash, under the radio, before clambering out of the car and heading to the rear of it. In my side view mirror, I saw the trunk hood lift and Charlie rummage around in it. After a few seconds, he shut the trunk with a thud, came over to my side of the car, and opened my door. He squatted down to where he was eye level with me. I heard his knees pop as he did so.

"Bella, tell me about the Cullens," I visibly cringed, "What about them has got you like this?" he gestured to all of me. I closed my eyes and tilted my head down. How could I tell him? It was impossible. I was never to tell anyone of their secret.

When he realized that I had no intention of answering, he sighed through his nose and tried again. "Look, Bella. I really hate to see you like this. I hate it so much that I spoke to Dr.," please don't say "Cullen" again, please don't say "Cullen" again, was all I could think, "Tracy, you know, the psychiatrist? She recommended that I bring you in. I knew there was no way you would allow me, so I asked her for an alternative, one that involved no strangers. She told me of a type of therapy, one that I think could be very useful with you.

"It is a physical type that allows you to get all of your emotions out. Normally, she said she takes people to a junkyard or someplace with old, beaten up things that they could pound the crap out of. She told me that you just pummel something, whether it be with a bat, your fists, whatever, until you feel better. I thought that this would be better…" he pulled a silver, metal bat out from behind his back and held it out to me. I no longer gripped the seat, curious, took it and stared at it, not used to the unfamiliar feeling of the stick of metal weighing down my hands. "I'm usually against this, being an officer and all, but I'll make an exception, for you." I still didn't understand what he wanted me to do.

He took one of my hands and pulled me gently out of the car then put a hand on the small of my back as he led me to the house. I recoiled away from the house, but he kept me going, giving me a little nudge each time my feet faltered. The bat kept feeling heavier and heavier in my hands with each step we took. Once we reached the house, Charlie stopped me and took a few steps back. "Have at it."

I stared at him incredulously as it clicked in my mind. He wanted me to smash the house. I almost laughed at the absurdity of it all. He stepped forward and propped the bat up into swinging position, before retreating back again. "Go."

I couldn't believe it, but I swung. I swung like hell. The sound of the bat colliding with the side of the house was music to my ears.

Music that I craved more of.

The bat, surprisingly, felt right in my hands once the swinging started, it just felt…like I was meant to do this. The bat whistled through the air at a speed that I had no clue I could ever achieve. The realization of this pushed me to swing more. I moved on to the windows on the front of the house, smashing them to a hundred tiny shards at my feet. Next target was the door; the wood splintered under the bat each time I made contact.

I hadn't realized it at first, but I had started speaking aloud. "How could you leave me? How could you play me in such a way? I had thought you all loved me! I had thought you all cared for me, wanted me to be a part of your family. But now I see what I was too blind to see all along. You all lied, cheated, pulled wool over my eyes. I may be human, but I'm not stupid! You all can go to Hell for all I care! He should be damn fine with that, since he believes you all have no souls. And how right he is. No one with a soul could do this to a person! Ever!" I kept screaming, not caring who heard; not caring what I said.

The discovery of my new physical abilities excited me. I had never known that I was capable of any of that. When I finally made a hole in the door, I caught a glimpse of the grand piano in the foyer and a new surge of anger rose. I hated the Cullens. I truly did. They had used me, played me. I was a Barbie doll to them; something that was fun to play and toy with, but something that you throw away and forget about when you tire of it. I smashed and smashed the damn house until I finally broke into the building.

The first thing I headed to was the grand piano. There was a small bit of surprise in me at the fact that he left the instrument behind, but it only lasted a millisecond. Chunks of polished, black wood flew this way and that, along with keys, black and white alike. Strings recoiled from my bat, making earsplitting sounds that swam in the air. My bat collided with the piano over and over again, each hit harder than the last; each sound of the dying piano louder than the last. Most of my anger was taken out on the piano; I stayed there for quite a while, screaming anything that came to mind, even if it wasn't coherent. Once the piano was demolished, that wasn't enough for me.

The piano bench. It. Had. To. Go.

After splintering the bench so much that there was no way of possibly recognizing its original state, I moved on upstairs. There were more memories up there than downstairs. It slightly shocked me how much everything looked identical to the last I saw it; furniture still in rooms, rugs still on the hall floors, books still on their shelves, small things like that. But then again, they had probably bought all of this just to add to the lie they had built around me. It was nothing to them, nothing more than tools in a ploy to toy with a foolish, vulnerable human.

Nothing.

Just. Like. Me.

I broke into a quick sprint down the hallway. I was a woman on a mission and I'd be damned before I didn't finish it. I passed a few rooms, intent on making it to this one before coming back for the others. At the end of the hallway, I finally reached it.

The room.

His room.

The door was shut, but I sure as hell didn't twist the knob to open it. No, I beat it with the bat a few times (for a warm up for what was to come once I entered the room) before finally kicking it in and entering, standing on the fallen door and gazing around the room. What first? That was such a difficult question to answer. Everything needed to be smashed in here. Nothing of his deserved to stay unharmed. As I was deliberating over what was first to go, I noticed that most of his shelves had been cleared off; his CDs were gone, as were his books, along with some other things. I stopped surveying and just began swinging, not caring what I hit as long as I hit something. It disappointed me that I couldn't ruin his sentimental objects, but that didn't stop me in the slightest.

Time passed quicker than light, it felt like I had been in the room mere seconds when, in reality, it had to have been over forty-five minutes. Eyes sweeping over the room, I took in the damage I had been able to make in such a short time. The couch that had been in the room was split in two, the legs broken and off and now in different areas of the room, stuffing strewn all around the room from the broken couch as well. The shelves where he had kept so many things were fragmented and chips were mingling in with the sofa stuffing. There had been a desk in his room; as I said, hadbeen. Glass shards and little crystals were sticking out of the walls and the ground where they had embedded themselves when my bat smashed them into the bits they were now. Other pieces were lying in piles around where the desk once stood. The trinkets and other desk things that had been on the desk, when it was whole, were mixed in with the piles of broken glass. The metal frame was so bent and deformed that there was no way of recovering the desk, even if a new plate of glass had been bought.

I gazed around the room one last time, checking to make sure that nothing was left intact. It seemed that everything was destroyed, which gave me a surge of victory. But one thing stood out. One thing was left untouched. One little, fragile thing.

The window.

…Edward, saying his name empowered me, had always loved that window. He said it let the light in that they couldn't normally see. Not in public at least. He had loved that wall of a window.

All the more reason to shatter it.

I hoisted my bat up, ready to swing, and took a running start to the window, stopping mere inches from it, my body that is, not my bat. The bat swung straight through the window like air, except air doesn't make the same sound as tinkling and clinking glass smashing from a giant pane to tiny fragments. The window crashing to the ground around me and outside was it. All I needed to make my mind know that it was over. I didn't believe any of their lies anymore. My perfect, godly image of the Cullens was shattered, never to be pieced back together.

Turning on my heel, I spun and walked at a leisurely pace out of the room, resting my bat on my shoulder. I felt lighter, like there was nothing pressing down on me anymore. It was like learning how to breathe, like I had been doing it wrong all my life and I finally figured out how to do it correctly. Adrenaline pumped through my veins, fueling me to go on. Don't get me wrong; I might have felt better, but the house still wasn't smashed enough to my liking. And I knew just the room I was headed to.

I kicked the closest door to me, making it swing violently on its hinges and bang into the wall behind it. Before me was Alice and Jasper's room. A sharp pain in my chest made me stop to catch my breath, which was raspy and had recently hitched. I may have been "better", but it hurt to think their names; I hadn't since they had left. The names brought too many memories out of the dark recesses of my mind.

Alice.

She had acted as my friend; my sister. And she just upped and left like it was no big deal; like she had nothing tying her here in the tiny town of Forks, Washington; like I meant nothing. Though, to them, I guess I did. I tried to think of what would hurt Alice to most to see broken and battered in her room. The answer came to me quickly and I stormed my way across the room to her closet.

Ripping the door open, and almost off the hinges (which was a great surprise for me, one that I stowed away for later analyzing), fury swirled within me, charging my will to destroy and beat down those who did the same to me. I unconsciously noted that the closet seemed to be much emptier than I had last seen it. Apparently they had planned this, and not just decided to leave at random. I briefly wondered how much was truly missing from the house; how much had been sentimental enough for them to take with them. Coming back to the matters at hand, I realized that the bat wouldn't do too well against clothing, except wrinkle it (which, from what I remembered, would have pained Alice Cullen to see). After knocking down all the shelving, I dropped my bat and began using my nails to rip the clothing to shreds. Albeit, there was a small amount of clothing to shred, I made sure all of it was, in the end, shredded beyond recognition.

Leaving the room, I headed further down the hall.

The next room I was headed to was Carlisle's office. I had been in here a few times before; I couldn't decide which of the meetings in there had been worse; the first, where they told me stories, which were probably all faux, and treated me like a part of the family, or the most recent one, where my arm had been sliced open and Carlisle doctored me up like he actually cared if I was injured or not, again telling me things to make me feel like part of the family. Both times had been lies. The…being that had owned this room had been the leader of the all the Cullens. He had had the power to make it all stop, but didn't. Instead, he went along with it; acting as though he truly intended on knowing me for more than a year. The bat moved almost automatically, colliding with the desk still sitting on the back, glass wall. If the bat missed, I didn't notice, for it would smash into the window-wall, resulting in the clinking of tiny shards that sang a song of victory for me. Glass, wood, plastic, any material that could be found in that room at one point was now laying on in a heap on the hardwood floor, scattered everywhere in a mess that even the world's best maid wouldn't dare attempt to clean.

Smirking at my masterpiece, I exited the room, merrily swinging the bat at my side, and stood in the middle of the hall, debating on whom was next to have their room demolished.

The bat disappeared from my hand a second after I stopped and I spun to see who had been the idiot to stop me. When I saw Charlie I calmed and got out of the low crouch that I had unconsciously moved into. It was strange, yet it felt completely normal. I huffed out my breath as all of the physical exertion crept up on me as the adrenaline slowly left. Charlie pulled me into a sweaty hug as soon as he was sure I wouldn't go berserk on him.

"You did amazing, honey. Do you feel any better?" he asked, voice muffled from being buried in my hoodie. I thought about that for a second, looking at my feelings, my thoughts, everything, making sure that I was, indeed, better. I got my answer almost instantly.

"Tons," I laughed, actually laughed. The sound scared me at first, but I continued laughing when I realized how wonderful it felt. "Thank you so much, Dad." I hugged him tighter.

"Don't mention it. Really, don't, because we'll both be in deep trouble if anyone finds out we did this." He chuckled and pulled away from me. I sighed, in contentment and relief, glad to be over with it all, as I had thought I had been.

As you can see, it had been pitiful. I hate to admit that I had been so bent out of shape over losing them. It was ludicrous, idiotic at the least! They never cared for me, they had probably already moved on to another poor human to torture. But they never would be able to torture me again.

Ever.

That naïve Bella had left with the Cullens that week, replaced by me. Now, my feelings on the topic of the Cullens were all channeled through anger. Ever since the day at their house, when I discovered my physical abilities, I was beyond curious to see how far my abilities could be pushed. So, I had joined plenty of the sport teams that my miniature high school provided and even drove to Port Angeles every week to a gym I had joined. It was amazing how much I changed, for the better, while I was still in Forks.

I had thought that life was great and the fact that I was graduating high school in a few months made it seem completely awesome. Could it get any better?

No.

It could only get worse.

oOoOoOo

That day was a day I will never forget. I know that sounds cliché and corny, but it's the truth.

The day started off like any other Friday; wake up for school, get ready, eat breakfast with Dad and head out to school, like it had for the all of the past school years. But that Friday changed my life forever. And I'm still deciding whether it was for better or for worse…

I was sitting at the table in the kitchen, shoveling Wheaties in my mouth as I skimmed over some notes for a test that day. Dad entered the room and plopped down across from me, seeing the bowl of cereal I had already prepared for him just moments ago. He took the notes from me and started testing me on the content while we both ate. It had been going pretty well, when the doorbell rang. I immediately shot up and headed to the front door, wondering who the hell would be at our house this early in the morning. I mean it was barely past seven o'clock! I pulled the door open to reveal a very tall, lean man.

"You must be Isabella." He smiled lightly down at me and I raised my eyebrows.

"And you are?" I implored, popping out a hip and placing a hand on it.

"Guardian Belikov," he stated, as if I knew who that was.

I heard my dad approach from behind me, his work boots squeaking against the hardwood floor. "Who's this?" he asked me.

"'Guardian Belikov'," I put air quotes around the title this man had given me, while speaking in a mocking tone. The man's already small smile disappeared and he grimaced at me. I rolled my eyes in response.

"Shit," Charlie growled from behind me. I was shocked; Dad almost never cursed with me around. I spun to give him a dubious look. He sighed and pulled the door open more, "Come on in." He sounded defeated. My father never sounded defeated. What the hell was going on?

My dad led us to the living room and sat on the couch, I sat in his chair and "Guardian Belikov" took a seat next to my father. They both sat there for a moment, neither one knowing how to start the conversation that would change life as I knew it. I cleared my throat, "Are you going to tell me what is going on or not?" I asked neither one in particular.

Dad opened his mouth then closed it, like he was lost for words. "Guardian Belikov" was better.

"Isabella—" he started, now that I was listening intently, I detected a light accent to his voice, though I couldn't quite place it. It definitely wasn't from anywhere in the States.

"Bella," I corrected. I hated my full name, and I didn't care if I didn't trust this man, I still preferred my shortened name.

"Okay, Bella. I work at an academy, east of here, in Montana. It's a—"

I cut him off again, coming to my own conclusions. "And you want to recruit me to this 'academy' of yours. I get it, but I'm already planning on attending the University of Washington, so save it." I huffed and leaned back in the cushiony chair I was seated in.

"It's not a college. It's a—"

"Well, I already have a high school and I'm not transferring this late in the year. Sorry 'bout your luck, bud." I saw a tiny, amused smile appear on Belikov's lips for a moment.

The man turned to my father, "She's just like her mother." He chuckled a little and my dad paled. Wait a minute! He said "her mother", meaning my mother. How the hell did he know her? I sure as hell didn't.

"How do you know my mother?" I growled, sitting on the edge of the chair. He looked confused and my dad intervened.

"She has never met Renee. And I've kept her…species unsaid," he explained to the so called "Guardian Belikov." I was fuming by now, cue the steam out of my ears.

"How?" I asked again, through gritted teeth, my brain not even registering what my father said about "species".

"Guardian Belikov" gave me a sympathetic look and went on to explain, "The academy I work at isn't your typical school. It's a school for dhampirs and Moroi." There was that accent again. I noticed that it was a little thicker on some words than others. It sounded kind of European, though I still couldn't put my finger on it… Anyways, I realized that my confusion at what he had just said must have been plain as day on my face when he turned to my father and asked, sounding exasperated, "Does she know anything?"

"I know how to kick your ass," I muttered under my breath. He heard me; I could tell by the way he raised an eyebrow and his eyes darted back to me, as if he was challenging me. I laughed. He looked ready to say a witty comeback when Charlie spoke.

"No, I've been trying to keep it all from her. And I was succeeding until you showed up," he grumbled, looking at his work shoes with disdain. What the hell has he been "keeping" from me?

"If you had just responded to the letters we sent, I wouldn't have had to show up, Mr. Swan," "Guardian Belikov" said.

"Officer Swan. And I did respond! I said that there was no way in hell she was going to learn about her past and to leave us alone in peace! She's been through a lot lately!" he had cursed again, and this time, it didn't hit me with so much surprise. I guess my father and I were, indeed, a lot alike, as we were often told.

"And what could she have been through that was so traumatizing?" Belikov inquired, disbelievingly.

"That's not important now. What is important now is that we settle this. You leave, and we act like nothing ever happened. Deal, Mr. Belikov?"

"If I have to call you by your title, you must use mine. And that is not a deal that I have the power to make. I'm sorry, Officer, but she has to come with me." Whoa, what the shit?

"I'm not going anywhere!" I spoke up, not sounding as strong as I had meant to. He held information about my mother, information about my past. Of course I wanted him to leave, but not without spilling said information.

"That isn't your choice to make either, Ms. Swan. You will come to the academy with me and I will explain everything there." He stood to go, but sat again when he noticed me stay put. "Bella, please don't be difficult. Now's not the time to be like your mother." He pinched the bridge of his nose and looked to the floor. The mannerism was so Edward-like that it made my anger bubble up and threaten to spill over.

"Look, Belikov. You're going to explain it now, and then I'll decide if I go or not. Got it?"

He sighed and stood once again, heading for the door. A feeling of triumph washed over me. I had thought I won, that he was leaving us to our lives. But I heard him call for someone once he opened the door, soon followed by an engine cutting off and footsteps headed towards our house. It didn't even occur to me that I shouldn't be able to hear the footsteps crunching the gravel of our driveway, if I were normal. But I guess I have never been normal, no matter how much I had made myself believe that lie.

The door closed again. I heard a female sigh and the murmur of low conversation; after only a few minutes, Belikov walked back into the room, followed by a short, dark haired girl. She looked to be my age and my height, more or less. She had long, almost black hair that went well past her shoulders. She sat on the couch, taking Belikov's old spot and he stood beside her at the arm of the couch. The girl flipped her hair over her shoulder and I saw Belikov's face soften for just a moment before hardening back into his "business" face.

The girl spoke calmly and kindly. "Bella, my name is Rose." I fought back the urge to hiss. This girl wasn't Rosalie; she wasn't associated with the Cullens. "I'm a girl just like you. You may not know what you are, but I can teach you. Now, unlike my comrade here," she patted Belikov's hand that was rested on the couch arm, "I have some tact," this earned her a small growl from Belikov, which she just laughed at. "You know it's true. Anyways, my real point is that I know what it's like to be ripped from your 'human' life. I was, after I ran away from the academy with a friend—"

"A highly endangered friend," Belikov commented, earning a scowl from Rose.

"I was a great guardian. I kept her alive the whole time we were gone, and I did more than the normal guardian would, so shut up. You're just jealous of my mad skills." Belikov rolled his eyes and she nudged him, smiling. "Get a sense of humor, Dimitri. Anyways," she said, turning back to me, "the point is I know how you feel. I lived without a mother pretty much my whole life. And I don't have a father," her eyes flicked almost jealously to Charlie for a millisecond before coming back to me. "So, I understand, like I said. I'm telling you that going to the academy will be a choice you won't regret, honestly, no bullshit." Dimitri pushed her shoulder lightly and gave her a look of warning, which she waved off. I was beginning to really like this chick.

"Your…partner" they both exchanged a glance, "here mentioned something that sounded like 'dampier' what is that?" I asked, truly curious.

Rose rolled her eyes at Dimitri, "Like I said, no tact," and went on to explain. "He said 'dhampir', d-h-a-m-p-i-r. It's what you, I, and he all are. A dhampir is mix between, either, the uncommon way, a human and a Moroi, which are a race of vampire that—"

That set me off.

"Vampires do not exist," I growled, it sounded surprisingly animalistic. It scared the shit out of me, but I didn't let it show on the outside. Anything that related to vampires in anyway was something I stayed away from.

"Believe it or not, they do, Bella. Now, Moroi are—"

"Vampires don't exist. Get out of my house." I almost (keyword: almost) felt bad for yelling at Rose, but Dimitri I couldn't care less about.

"Bella, I know this is tough to digest, but—" Rose was getting pissed that I kept cutting her off—I could see it—but that didn't stop me from doing it.

"It's not tough to digest, I've already accepted it. Someone beat you all to the punch long ago. I just want nothing to do with any vampires. They disgust me…now."

Rose's eyes seemed to shine at this, "What if I told you that you got to stake and kill half of the vampire population if you came to us?" she asked. I squinted my eyes at her, not believing it. "Really. Well, I haven't done it, yet," she threw a quick glance to Dimitri, "but he has," she nodded her head in his direction.

I scrutinized Belikov, trying to picture him tearing apart a vampire and burning it… Something told me he could do it without breaking a sweat. He sighed and nodded, seemingly not liking the attention being brought to his killings.

"Really?" I asked. I was a "see it to believe it" type of person. Even though everything pointed to yes, I was still not one hundred percent believing it.

"Show her," Rose urged, twisting to gaze at Dimitri.

"Rose, there is no reason—," he started, but she shook her head and interrupted.

"She's not going to go otherwise." She did have a point there… But I was a little skeptical about what "it" was that he was supposed to show me…

"Roza—," again, she interrupted him.

"Don't 'Roza' me. Just do it," she huffed, but I could see that it was halfheartedly; she obviously liked being called "Roza".

With a sigh, Dimitri turned and pushed his short ponytail aside to reveal some strange markings on the back of his neck. "Molnija marks. They represent each Strigoi you've killed," he muttered, before turning back around and letting go of his hair.

"You've killed eight?" I asked, a little bit of unconscious awe seeping into my voice. From what I understood, killing a vampire was extremely difficult.

"Seven. The 'S' like mark is a promise mark. It shows that I've finished my training," Dimitri said, I could hear some pride in his voice, along with a sprinkling of grief.

"Oh," was my brilliant response. "Have you finished?" I asked Rose and she shook her head.

"Nah, but I'm pretty close. Though I have to train double time, not that I mind that…much…" Rose leaned against the arm of the couch and almost subconsciously moved her hand over to hold Dimitri's. I pretended not to notice, even when Dimitri lightly smiled when her hand made contact with his.

"So…I get to kill vampires?" I asked, more to myself than her. I loved the sound of this. If I learned how to kill them, then I could hunt down the bastards that had messed with me only a few months ago. Oh, it sounded so sweet. But there was one flaw in her explanation… "But you can't kill a vampire with a stake," I told them.

"With a charmed stake you can." Rose grinned. Charmed? I had no clue what she meant, but I was willing to go with it. She'll explain soon enough, I told myself.

"When do I pack?" I asked, standing, ready to bolt out the front door and go.

Rose laughed, and Dimitri even chuckled a little. "Now would be good," Rose replied. I turned and sprinted to my room, hardly believing what I was doing. It was crazy, impossible; then again, I used to think the existence of vampires was too, and look where that got me.

I packed as fast as I could, throwing anything and everything into a huge suitcase I had found in the hall closet. Over half of my things were already packed when Dad walked into the room. I didn't hear him at first, in my rush-to-pack haze, but when he wrapped his arms around me from behind I instantly dropped everything I was doing and turned to him. He looked so sad and dejected. It tore my already beaten and broken heart up to see him like that. I hugged him tightly and kissed his cheek.

"I love you, Dad. Remember that," I whispered against his neck. I could have sworn that a sob racked through him. I closed my eyes tight, telling myself that I imagined it, even though I knew I didn't.

"I love you too, but I just don't want you to leave. Why do you want to kill vampires so badly, honey?" he asked as he pulled away and sat on my bed, picking up an old teddy bear of mine and holding it tight in his hands.

At first, I was scared to tell him. I felt like I was betraying the Cullens, but then I remembered that I didn't care. I heaved a breath and dove straight into it, "You know the Cullens?" I asked, biting back a hiss. He nodded his head. "Vampires," I laughed humorlessly. Charlie gaped at me like a fish. Turning around, I went back to packing, not liking the look on his face.

"What kind?" Charlie inquired, anxiety colouring his voice.

"How am I supposed to know? They claimed to be immortal, and they were super fast and strong and—" I stopped talking when I heard Charlie gasp behind me and I turned to see him gone, the door slightly swinging from the speed of his exit. Strange. I finished packing and took one long last look at my room. It looked so empty and lifeless without all of my things in it. I sighed and turned, not wanting to look at it anymore. I trudged down the stairs with the suitcase until I came into view, then Dimitri immediately strode over and took it from me and out to the car, I presumed. That was gentlemanly, I mentally mused.

Rose looked at me in a solemn way and shook her head slowly before looking to my father and giving him a small hug. She looked to be consoling him. I smiled at her from behind; giving her a secret thanks for trying to make it easier on my poor dad. When she walked out of the door, announcing that I was to follow when I was done in the house, I walked over to my dad. He turned and instantly crushed me to him in a hug. I hugged him back just as fiercely.

"Remember to call," he reminded.

"I will."

"And don't get into too much trouble."

"I won't," I promised, pretty sure I would be breaking that promise at some point.

"I love you."

"I love you too, Dad." I gave him a kiss on the cheek and released him, knowing that I needed to go soon. Dimitri may have looked like the patient type, but Rose sure as hell didn't.

When I walked outside I saw a black Honda Pilot with so dark of a tint on the windows that you couldn't see in it at all. Why would they need tinted windows up here where it was always cloudy? I wondered before hopping in the backseat of the Dracula-mobile.

I saw Charlie wave from the porch, but I don't think he saw me wave back, thanks to the tint.

"Ready to go to middle-of-nowhere, Montana?" Rose asked, with fake enthusiasm, from the front passenger seat. I laughed, as did Dimitri. Rose turned on the radio and fought with Dimitri over what to listen to; they seemed to be going back and forth between some '80s stuff and some country crap. But I didn't really care what station they landed on; I was just thankful to be out of Forks. Too many memories of how stupid I was remained there, and I was ready to start fresh. I looked out the windows of the car as Forks flew past me and the path to Montana stretched out before me.

But all I could think was

I can't wait to stake some vampire ass.

The next time I ran into the Cullens, they would cease to exist anymore.