With Charlie killed in a robbery gone bad, the townspeople of Forks dropping off like flies under mysterious circumstances or disappearing altogether, Bella decides to far away in hopes of luring trouble away from her childhood home, knowing its the work of the scorned lover of a dead mate. Little did Bella know that her tribulations were about to start when she accidentally moves into the territory of the wrong vampire.
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I do not own Twilight characters.
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Peter
Watching, waiting, hiding, or do they call it stalking nowadays?
Probably.
I had watched the delicious little morsel in front of me now for weeks.
Her delicate scent was addictive leading me to her. Like fresh honey and orange and something slightly floral.
Her routine was like clockwork, she never deviated from it. She hustled into Dan's bar and grill every evening for work and after her shift was over she ordered her dinner to go, then left.
She was perceptive. Too much so. She knew someone was watching and at times I liked to play the game, letting her get a glimpse of me.
I'm there and then I'm gone.
But I'm not really gone and she can sense it.
She feels my presence, and I enjoy how responsive her body is to my nearness even from afar.
Her head whips. In all directions not seeing anyone.
But I am there, in the shadows watching, waiting for the right time.
What is more surprising is that she knows of the supernatural world. I've heard her quiet mumbles, that no one else hears when she whispers "stupid vampires are everywhere."
Yes, my little woman knows too much. Much too much for her to be safe for long in her human state.
Silently, I keep sentinel over her.
No one dares enter my territory knowingly unless invited. She is my territory, and others of my kind heed to my warnings. Legend of my reparation reaches far and wide. I am deadly and have no qualms about killing when necessary. I have no scent, Mali g me near impossible to track, word travels fast and everyone knows when I claim a new territory. My mark is painted in many places, 'P' with the 'W' overlapping; initials many fear.
You just don't fuck with Whitlock's.
She lives in a two-story log home, in a secluded area not far from the city Adrian, in Noble county Minnesota.
My watch is extensive.
No stone left unturned.
I care for what is mine and I'm a selfish bastard.
Her home smells of cinnamon and clean linen, but not spice because she doesn't like their combination.
Her body is fit and she is a force to be reckoned with, a warrior's wet dream, a woman who can handle the beast.
She starts her weekdays with karate and kickboxing, she mediates to stay focused and relieve stress.
Yes, my little woman is so much more than she appears to be.
She carries a cell phone wherever she goes, only receiving calls from two people, both male, once a week. I can tell these people live far away, and the longing in her eyes tells me she misses them in some way. My jealous nature does not approve but I will tend to that matter another time.
She is both sexy and confident and she handles herself well, she never flaunts her skill unless physically provoked to protect herself.
Those who have crossed that line, have never done so again..
She is blunt and provocative.
She likes to flirt and sometimes talks trash, but to hear words worthy of a sailor's blush come from her mouth is somehow more arousing than the innocence she sometimes radiates, though she is not innocent, not by far. She plays it well when need be.
She is special, very much so, and soon … very soon we will get better acquainted.