A/N: For the sake of this story (and…it's, you know possible, since Kate's birthday is pretty much unknown), Kate is 17 in 1912. For reference, let's call this about three generations before Bella. Tanya, Irina, and Sasha (their creator) are vampires at this point.

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PROLOGUE

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The blond girl had snuck up on him.

"Kate," he nodded, pursing his lips. "What is it?"

She tilted her head, studying him. There was something about the shape of his lips…

"Nothing," she answered, shaking her head. "Just thought…" she squinted again, trying to see below the stern mask and black eyes. "But never mind."

Jacob snorted. "That's new."

"What is?"

"'Never mind.' You don't usually hold things back."

Kate bit her lip. "It's just – for a second, you looked –" She didn't finish the sentence, cutting herself off instead.

Jacob was curious, now. "Looked like what?"

She turned around, choosing not to meet his gaze. "Like him." Her voice cracked as the words slid out of her pale lips.

"Who?"

Kate was silent for a moment. It was night – the moon shined lightly down on where they stood at the edge of the cliff. Even in the darkness, Jacob thought he could see a shine on her skin. The ends of her hair fluttered as a breeze blew by, and he heard the intake of breath before she turned around.

"Jacob," she began evenly. The boy blinked, confused at her sudden change of tone. "Has anyone ever told you how I died?"

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ONE

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Katrina St. Clair was beautiful. This was simply a fact.

Her mother, Ivy, was a society woman and hosted some of the best social gatherings in the area. She had met Preston St. Clair through familial connections, and it only made sense for the two to wed. Both were powerful families and their wedding was one of the most well-attended of the year.

Preston owned one of the largest banking companies in the western United States – his work was hard but gratifying and his wife was often left to occupy her time with other things, as he was working for most daylight hours.

The St. Clairs traveled north for their honeymoon, towards the unfounded area covered in snow and ice. Both preferred the cold to warmth, any day.

It was during this trip that Katrina was conceived. Ivy stayed the length of her term in a small shelter in the same town as they honeymooned, as the pregnancy was sudden and required bed-rest. The St. Clairs welcomed Katrina – named after Preston's mother – in the year 1896.

With her mother's full lips, her father's blond locks, and the angular features passed down from both sides of the family, Katrina was the epitome of beautiful. She had a sort of intense beauty – the kind that made men fall over themselves and stutter, the kind that made even the strongest suitor grow cautious. It didn't help that Katrina was a huge flirt – men fell in love with her just from watching her smile.

The life of high-society matched Katrina perfectly. She was not the kind of girl who took no for an answer, and she liked having things go her way. She was smart, clever and careful, but her life had molded her in such a way that she knew of nothing else. She was a different person at home then she was in public, where society had trained her to be cruel. She was used to mocking those underneath her, sticking up her nose at the girls who didn't come from good money.

Despite having the life that these same girls – and, at one point, herself – dreamt of, Katrina was bored. Every day was the same thing, and she was tired of having to act perfect. She was tired of the silly girls and having to go along with them – of parties and cotillions and balls.

Washington had never seemed as lonely as it did in the summer when Katrina was seventeen. The warm rain often made her stay inside, and she had too much time to think about the life she had ahead of her. She knew that she was destined to turn out like her mother – marrying young, having children, learning to play the piano just to have something to do when her husband was away. This was not the life Katrina looked forward to.

It was this thought that plagued Katrina a day in early July that broke hot and bright. She awoke from a dream, still tired but restless, yawning as she pinned up her hair. She put on a gown over her nightdress and walked down the stairs to the dining room. Her mother was sitting at the table with a cup of tea and a plate of scones.

"Mother," Katrina nodded. Ivy smiled and gestured for her to sit. She took the seat on Ivy's right and filled her own cup. Her mother appraised her outfit as she began to eat.

"Don't forget about the Constantine engagement tonight, darling."

Katrina nodded again, her mouth full. She swallowed before turning back to Ivy. "Do I have to go?"

"Of course. Gregory Constantine is a partner in your father's business and Lela is your age."

"Yes, but, mother," she started, "I don't even like Lela Constantine."

"Well, you don't have to like her," Ivy said. "You just have to go."

Katrina sighed. "Fine." She brushed a few crumbs off her gown before speaking again. "May I be excused?"

"You may," Ivy complied.

"May I go outside for a little?" Katrina asked carefully, watching her mother's expression.

Ivy pursed her lips. "I suppose. Clean up and be back by four. Don't be late."

Katrina grinned and kissed her mother on the cheek. "Thank you. I won't, I promise."

The older woman couldn't help but smirk at her daughter's enthusiasm. By the time she warned, "don't go too far, darling," Katrina was already halfway up the stairs.

She quickly slipped on a day dress and fixed her hair again, smiling as she looked in the large, framed mirror that stood over her bureau. Had she been asked, Katrina wouldn't deny that she thought she was pretty. It was something she was proud of and she usually took the time to look her best. However, it was not often that her mother let her visit around town unaccompanied, and she wanted to have a good amount of time to do so.

Katrina walked outside, immediately smiling at the feeling of white cotton on her skin and sunlight on her cheeks. The air was soft against her – when she closed her eyes the wind almost felt like a caress, and she decided it was the perfect day to stop by the shore.

Water had always appealed to Katrina. The way it moved, flawless and jagged – a contradiction in its own. Even when she knew it wasn't proper, she liked to sneak off by herself sometimes, walk in ankle-deep and look down at the opaque gray-green. The color of the ocean was the same as her eyes, and Katrina imagined that perhaps it was a part of her, too.

What she had not expected, however, when she reached the beach, was to see a tall, russet-skinned boy wading into the water. Her eyes grew wide when she saw that he was not dressed, his only accessory being his unfashionably too-long hair, which stood stark black against the red-brown of his shoulders.

"Excuse me," Katrina called out to him. The boy turned around. "But what exactly do you think you are doing?"

The boy squinted at her, confused. He loped slowly out of the waves, picking up a piece of cloth that was sitting by the water and slipping it over his legs. Katrina looked away for this, but as he moved closer, she began to study his face. Dark eyelashes framed eyes that were close to black, a straight nose and wide lips. His features were very different from the boys Katrina knew, and she realized from his broad build and sharp face that he was an Indian.

"I'm sorry, but shouldn't I be asking you that, miss?"

"What do you mean?" Katrina asked indignantly. "I live just a half hour up the road. I come here often."

"Perhaps you don't come often enough," the boy said, smirking. "I'm Ephraim Black, and this is where my family lives."

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A/N: Oh, intrigue! Tell me what y'all think, please (seriously, any and all feedback is encouraged), 'cause I'm a bit nervous about putting up a non-J/B fic.