Summary: When your parents are legend hunters, you tend to stop believing in things. Especially when they've found absolutely nothing, despite all their years of searching. So, when I moved to Forks and heard about the vampires and the shifters, you can understand why I was a little skeptical. That is, until I fell in love with a shapeshifter, and my parents starting hunting them.

Okay, this is a story that my sister Bree and I are co-writing. I hope you like it!

Chapter One: The Prints

Forks, Washington was the next place on my parents' to-do list. It was a system they had-stay in a place for two years, if you don't find anything, move on. Because of this, I had been all over the world. Greece for the Fates, Ireland for-and get this-leprechauns, the Himalayas for the Abominable Snowman, and most recently, Mexico for the Chupacabra. For as long as I could remember, my parents had been searching for legends. Also for as long as I could remember, they hadn't found anything. Honestly, I thought their endless running around was pointless. I didn't understand why I had to be carted around for seventeen years so they could endlessly chase fairytales. It was ridiculous.

"Blakely! Dinner!" That was my mother calling, by the way. Lucy Connor, not that you could call her that to her face. No, it was always Doctor Connor. Same for my father. Really, all they had was like an associate's degree. I believe the majority of their money was inherited, seeing as my parents' jobs didn't pay too well. I sighed and got up from the window. There hadn't been much to see out there, just watery green blurs mixed with a gray-blue sky. Nothing special. I made my way downstairs to where my parents were looking over a bunch of maps and internet print-outs while eating Chinese take out. I surveyed the completely covered table. No room for me. I snatched my container of Lo Mein and chicken off the counter and stalked to the living room. "Don't spill on the new furniture!" Mom shouted after me. I could tell her mouth was full and I could practically see her pointing her fork at me to show she meant business. I rolled my eyes. Whatever. I scarfed down my food while flipping through the channels. Nothing good was on-figures. I settled for a beach volleyball tournament on NBC, already missing the sun in Mexico. When I was done eating, Japan was up three to nothing on the USA, and quite frankly, I was embarrassed. I threw my carton in the trash and washed the grease of my hands at the sink. I stared at my parents, who were still peering over their glasses at all the too-small print. I sighed, waiting for them to look up. They didn't, so I spoke up.

"I think I'm going to go for a drive…if that's okay?" I glanced at the clock. It was already nine o'clock and we had just gotten here yesterday. I worried for a moment that my parents wouldn't let me go. I should have known better.

"Mhhmm," they replied in unison. Really, what was the point of parents, you know aside from the whole 'destroying-my-life' thing? Okay, I'll admit it, that was a little melodramatic, but you get the point. I got my car keys off the mantle and jogged outside, trying to avoid getting totally soaked. Even though the temperature was probably around 80 degrees outside, I turned the heater on as soon as I hopped into my little black Honda Civic. The rain made me cold.

I didn't know my way around very well yet, so I mostly just located places I knew I would need to know. Forks High, the supermarket. I looked around forever for a running track, but to no avail. Evidently it was too wet here for outdoor sports. What did people do all day? Play ping pong?

After a while, I just drove in a straight line, looking for any place interesting to spend the rest of my summer vacation. I eventually reached a small, worn down sign saying "Welcome to La Push, Home of First Beach". I pressed down hard on the gas pedal-a beach sounded amazing right about then. I turned up the radio and rolled down my window, trying to tune out the world. It was going really well until I got pulled over.

I saw the flashing lights before I heard the car. I groaned and pulled off onto the shoulder. I felt a presence come up beside my already opened window, and I looked up into the face of a slightly heavyset, middle-aged man. He was smiling a crinkly-eyed baby smile that lit up his whole face, even his chocolate brown eyes.

"Evening, Officer." I grumbled. His badge said Charlie Swan.

"Good evening." He was still smiling. "I've been behind you for a while, and I noticed the change in your speed a few miles back." He pointed, as if I was unaware of where I had just come from. I just shrugged, not knowing what to say. He squinted and leaned down, obviously trying to place me. "I don't recognize you. You new around here?"

"Yes sir," I replied, remembering my manners. "My family just moved here yesterday." He nodded.

"That's great. My daughter Bella just moved here last year. Maybe…you could be her friend." What interested me most about his sentence was the way he had said I could be her friend. As if she needed a friend more than the new girl did. Interesting.

"Yeah," I answered, despite my confusion. "That'd be cool." We both were silent for a moment, looking anywhere except at each other.

"Well, considering the circumstances, I suppose I'll let you off with a warning." He was grinning in a joking manner, so I knew I wasn't actually in trouble. Apparently, living in a small town gave you a sort of leeway with the law. That made exactly one upside to moving there.

"Thank you, Officer." I said. He chuckled and stuck a hand in my window.

"Please, call me Charlie." I smiled and shook.

"Okay, Charlie. I'm Blakely Connor." He nodded his head, as if he were tipping a hat, and stepped backwards.

"Have a good evening, Miss Connor. Drive safely." And he disappeared into the drizzly night back to his car. I watched his lights turn around and head back towards Forks. When I could no longer see his car in my mirrors, I pulled back out onto the road to La Push, keeping my speed at a steady 60. I checked my clock as I drove-it was nearly ten thirty. I checked my phone next, but there were no missed calls or text messages. So, my parents weren't worried. What if I had been eaten by a bear? They would probably just be angry to stop their searchings to have to plan my funeral.

No. I didn't mean that. My parents cared about me; I knew that, they were just…a little too busy most of the time to show it. We had an odd relationship.

I started seeing the first houses of La Push then. They were small, but tasteful. Many of them were two stories, made of wood and painted in cute pastel colors. Lots of yellows, whites, and pale blues. The windows all had old fashioned shutters, and most of the homes had porches, a few of which held porch swings. I could imagine sitting out there, sipping lemonade and reading a book as if I lived in the South. It was nice. I kept driving, and the forests thinned out. I followed the signs directing the way to First Beach, and I parked in a vacant lot when I reached it. After a quick scan, I realized that the beach was deserted. Just as well, considering it was nearly eleven. But it was the summer, there was bound to be at least one person out, right? I got out and locked the car, although I doubted anyone would steal it in a place like this. Old habits die hard. Luckily, it wasn't raining here, but the wind was whipping my long dark hair into my face, making it possible to see. I threw it into a messy ponytail as I walked. I decided to take off my Vans before I reached the sand-it would save me clean up time later-and I left them beside the parking lot. I rolled up my jeans, then made my way out towards the water.

It was beautiful. The full moon reflected off the almost black water, making it appear as if I was seeing double. The sand was actually clean. I could have stayed there for hours analyzing it, but I wanted to be home by midnight. So, I set out at a jog along the shoreline. It didn't matter that I was in jeans- I was born to run. The sand squished in my toes, and I felt giddy, truly happy, as I ran. I forgot about my parents, forgot that I was in a completely foreign place, forgot my name. In that moment, my life was perfect.

That was when I came upon the footprints. They were normal, human, but massive. They were paced far apart, as if someone very tall had been running in long strides. They started at the water line and veered to the right, towards a wooded area I hadn't noticed before. I followed them. Why, I had no idea whatsoever. They were only footprints. I ran along side them, enjoying the mystery. Where were they leading? Who had been there? It was all very exciting, until I reached the dirt under the first cover of trees. I froze, a hand flying to cover my mouth in surprise. I bit back a gasp. There on the ground, where human footprints had been mere inches ago, were the gigantic paw prints of an animal.

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