Hijacked

Disclaimer: Stephanie Meyer owns Twilight. I'm just the one tinkering around with it.

Chapter Two

It was a cold morning when Isa attached her baggage to her motorcycle as the scent of morning mildew wafted over the area. She chose to pack light for two reasons: one for having very little to (truly) call her own and two, also not needing many things because she was about to start a new chapter in her life the moment she started her bike's engine.

It was maybe three/four in the morning when Isa decided to leave Renee and Phil without a final goodbye. The tears and hugs were never really her thing before being welcomed into this life and she wasn't going to start that awkwardness again with people that had very little sentimental value in her heart. Sure, they were kind people but they weren't hers. Not really. They may have embraced her with wide, open arms with assurances that they would be a family, have protection, insurance, and love but to Isa that had to be something you had to find, not be given.

A found family was typically better than blood, in her experience.

Securing the final cords to her gear she gave her possessions a final glance-over to ensure they wouldn't go flying off the moment she was half-way out of the state. She had a deadline to reach Forks, Washington after declining the offer of taking a plane there within a week's time. She couldn't abandon her motorcycle and honestly just wanted (read: needed) the freedom on the road to herself for a time before settling all over again.

No offense to Bella's father.

Throwing one leg over the bike she took one final glance at the house she had lived in for nearly a year and nodded, not entirely sure why, before starting the engine and pulling out of the driveway, driving down the street without a second glance back. Isa thought about leaving for good the other night; simply driving until she no longer could, crossing borders and finding a new life in another country away from where she would be sought after as a missing person. In the end, she decided that it was better to leave without causing grief to a family ( one that had given her a chance to do-over rather than a hard time for her "forgetfulness") and chose to stay.

It was better to leave with no hard feelings, Isa decided.

After all, once she was eighteen and had her high school diploma she could find a job easily and leave without any repercussions. They were a Swan family (at least partially), Charlie had to understand that she had to take flight and move on eventually. So, she would stay for one last year - just to give them the reassurance that she could make it on her own - and then go see the world.

She didn't get to travel the world in her first life: she wasn't about to lose the ability to see it a second time.

And that's why she needed this week, this break. She needed to be on her own again like the twenty-two-year-old adult she had once been. She needed to drive underneath the city lights and take in all the sights, sounds and smells of urban architecture of various sizes. From what she knew of Forks it was a small town and the population equally small, meaning there was less privacy of opinions and more land to explore.

She had also been an urban girl. Born and raised, constantly surrounded by people of many likes and personalities. Everything was always diverse, the people she found stayed close or moved on, and time went by swiftly but each moment spent wisely - with love and enjoyment. She was always privileged to privacy, people didn't flock to one person like hyenas to their prey, they didn't whisper and cackle in the night about something or someone. Most the time people were just dreaming and working for a better life than what they'd been given - most of them with the short straws but determined to make the most of it.

Isa wasn't ashamed to admit most the time she was alone but the best part of the urban life was that she was never truly lonely. Everyone had a story and eventually, the bastards in the night would get what was coming from them, whether in death's cold graze of winter in the streets, the constant presence of the police, or simply angering the wrong sorts of people.

It was a life she once thrived in. A life she dreamed in. A life she missed.

But as much as she loved being surrounded by buildings and lights which often outshined the presence of the starry night, Isa also loved the presence of the forest. Where she walks on no trail and simply wander, leaving predator and prey alone as they grazed the lands like her. She would climb trees and hike up the hills or mountains, and always breathed in the life that blossomed there.

So she didn't mind that Forks was her destination.

She always did crave Washington's famed coffee and apples.


In her other life she hadn't traveled often as an adult but as a teenager, she often took road and camping trips with her mother to different states and cities. Having an interest in other people's cultures it brought back fond memories as Isa now drove past the Navajo Mountain. She could already imagine her mother's expression at all the historic gift shops by the road.

The traffic wasn't horrendous but she knew that there were very few that appreciated a motorcyclist driving such long distances with them. But unlike the drivers in cars Isa didn't have the comfy seats and air conditioning. She found herself not minding much though, the feeling of the wind as she drove onward gave her a rush - not unlike the exhilaration she was met with gazing at the landscape.

Everything had its own story; its own mark and Isa restrained the urge to stop to connect with the history of the areas, no matter how tempting the flashbacks may be. So instead she drove on, only stopping for food, water, and gasoline. She fantasized in her mind what it would be like on a horse, replacing her motorcycle, to ignore the road and simply ride across the lands.

To have a companion.

She broke her fantasy quickly though to keep her focus on driving. She was aware of many stories that spoke of how most motorcyclists didn't crash by their own fault but either by other reckless drivers or the road itself. And Isa didn't even need to connect with the road to know it hadn't been repaired in a while. One misstep and she could get thrown off.

It was a thought she didn't want to become a reality.

And so she didn't stop for a break until she was well out of Arizona and half-way across Utah, suddenly very glad the cellphones hadn't been advanced like they were in her time (more than ten years, to think) because she could only imagine how much that could've slowed traffic on the way. She was also grateful she left before sunrise because as she pulled up to a hotel she knew there was nothing worse than driving on a motorcycle, surrounded by busy traffic, at night.

It was also of great relief to be able to connect to her surroundings again and be hit with flashbacks again. It had become an anchor of sorts to her, like proof that her accidental "reincarnation" or whatever this was - wasn't all in her head.

It was real. And there was more out there than stealing lives. She could see lives too, now. It was a welcoming change.

The cheap coffee in her hotel room, however, wasn't.


The following morning Isa allowed herself a vacation to explore the area outside the hotel she had stayed the night. She was captivated by learning other cultures and experiencing it outside the blazing sun of Phoenix, Arizona or the limited expanse of Forks was a rare and exciting change.

It also gave her a chance to flirt shamelessly with attractive girls she hadn't dared try to interact in Phoenix (her job excluded). Here she was free of her responsibilities, her masks, and wasn't constantly reminded of her false skin when she looked in the mirror (no matter how much she changed it to make it her own) and that was why she loved the cloak of mystery she had around herself as she eyed a particular dark brunette across the room.

Isa introduced herself as a Salvador, in memory of who she was without the mask, and allowed the stranger to show her city to her. She found herself enamored by the girl, glad to have someone to connect with outside the connection of flashbacks, and allowed herself just that once to let go.

They made love beneath the city lights that night, knowing it was with no strings attached, and simply enjoying another's presence. The love in laying next to the other person to listen to their strong, beating heart on their equally strong, bare chest. Isa had never been one to engage in pure sexual pleasure, in fact, she was more the type of person who fell in love with the conversation and interaction rather than one's beauty of body figure.

Loving and lusting over a body for its exterior appearance - it was never something she could understand. From all her flings and past lovers of the last life, it had never been for sexual release or an escape or their outer beauty. Not their body, not the masks they wore around society. It was who they were and what they wanted.

And in this case, this girl (like her) wanted comfort in someone loving her (truly loving her as herself) for once, and even if it only lasted for a single night, their time together gave her something to keep her moving forward, to remind herself why she was staying strong.

Isa was rather an empath. She would never allow herself to hurt someone for her own gain. It just wasn't who she was.

But as she laid that night with her limbs intertwined with the girl who let her see her city, her world, and the look in her eyes as they kissed, she wondered what it would be like to have more than that.

She wondered if it was too much a fantasy to become a reality.

She tucked the tiny pang of want underneath her emotions and behind her heart. She didn't need to dwell on these thoughts now. And so with that lost decision, she closed her eyes and let herself sleep to the rhythm of the owner's own beating heart next to her. By morning's dawn, she was back on her feet, dressed, and preparing coffee for the girl before she left, not wanting her departure to feel like she was never there - like it was just a dream.

And so as she finished the preparation of coffee, thankful for her previous barista experiences in coffee-expertise, grabbed a small slip of paper and left a short yet sincere note on the counter with the coffee made, having little doubt the city would be up and about soon, and assured herself a final moment that she had everything to call her own packed and ready to go as she closed the apartment door softly behind her.

Thank you for showing me your world. - IS

She could only hope the honest words were enough to bring that smile back to the one she left behind.


There was something to be said about the irony in Isa's life, or existence perhaps was the better word for her situation, as she found herself pulling into another city after a driver nearly gave her a heart-attack by passing a red light like it wasn't promising trouble and colliding into another car. It was a scratch compared to her own experience of flipped cars but it unsettled her greatly nonetheless and decided to take the rest of the day off-road.

However, try as she might she couldn't get the incident out of her head and was left driving down a narrow and dark street where no one, not even the home and jobless were seen about. She took in the quiet, breathing in deep despite the morbid stink in the area, and blocked the memory from her consciousness the best she could. Slowing her motorcycle to a stop, she leaned it against the wall and put her back against it as she reached a hand in her coat pocket to pull out a familiar pack that brought back poor memories but were still richer than those of the crash.

Propping the cigarette between her fingers, she stared into the sky, not bothering to bring the cigarette up to her lips as she lost herself in ancient memories. Contrary to the evidence in her hand, she never liked smoking, as it never solved anyone's problems before. However, when times were particularly rough she would go out into the city and breathe in the familiar scent of tobacco smoke from a distance, the oxygen less suffocating and overall making it easier to breathe.

Irony aside from that statement, it was the reason she needed the cigarette in her hand now, breathing in the smoke as it brought back the life she once knew and lived. She tried not to do it often, hardly ever doing since living back in a household with lifeforms that were not the birds outside her apartment window and tried her best to cope without it. This was even her first cigarette since becoming Isa, and oh, how she needed it.

Feeling the tension relax from her shoulders she sighed, watching as the gesture caused the smoke to fly forwards before spiraling back up to disperse. She smirked a bit, not for any particular reason, and closed her eyes, the back of her hair pressing into the wall while her neck tingled uncomfortably to the cold shade. So much time had passed, Isa thought wistfully, as she spent minutes doing nothing but breathing in the smoke. It was unusual for her because she felt like she was always doing something since waking up underwater. Never allowing herself to relax, to breathe, to cope with wearing this new skin. She hadn't wanted to think about what she no longer had, sincerely doubting she could change anything, or even if she should.

She took another deep breath when suddenly her breath faulted and she tensed, her instincts practically screaming at her that something was different. Something was off. Isa had always been well-attuned to her intuition; her instincts, and it worried her a bit about why they were acting up now. Sure, she was in a dark alley with no weapon but her fists but it was hardly the first time she was in a situation like this-

Footsteps sounded at a clumsy rhythm and dread hit Isa at the familiarity of the sound - someone was drunk, coming towards a dark alley, and suddenly Isa wanted to be anywhere but there.

Quickly turning she moved a leg unto the other side of her bike and grabbed her keys to get on the move when she pulled a classic horror-movie stunt and fumbled the keys right out of her hands where it clinked unbearably loudly somewhere behind her tires. Isa cursed loudly as she maneuvered herself away from her motorcycle to try and find where she dropped her keys, only to have goosebumps rise on her arms at being unable to find it.

Then promptly followed the action with a muffled curse for cursing so loudly before at her misfortune.

A second later the smell of alcohol and vomit hit her senses and jarred her rationality. Isa found herself turning face to face to the stranger, drunk and barely on his feet, standing maybe a foot or two away from her. She barely had a second to question how he approached her so fast when he sent her a lust-filled gaze and revolting grin, reaching out towards her with a slimy "why hello there" as he did so.

And before she could think up a rational escape plan her hand was shooting out and batting his outstretched hand like a swatter to a fly. He winced, stumbling slightly, before grinning back at her. "Always liked em' fierce," he slurred, his half-lidded gaze showing he wasn't all there but Isa couldn't have cared less knowing his intentions.

"Get the fuck away from me, bastard!"

He grinned, stumbling toward her another step. "Oh, if anything I'll be fucking-"

"Is he bothering you, my lady?" A soft-spoken, musical voice asked from behind her. Almost immediately a chill swept down her spine and the air suddenly felt utterly suffocating in his presence. Her instincts, once screaming before, were now practically ringing a death knell at this man's arrival. Isa didn't even have time to curse herself, as both she and the drunk shifted to stare at incomer.

She thought about how her senses were usually pretty good, able to hear someone's footsteps from an impressive distance, even able to smell a shift in the air. She could see farther than she ever had with glasses in her old life, and was rarely, if ever at all in this life caught off-guard.

To have this man show up out of seemingly nowhere without a sound set off warning bells in her mind almost as loud as the sound of the death knell.

But as she really looked at the man her breath caught in her throat. Despite the shadows cast over him by the roof's shade overhead, she could see his sharp, practically elvish features stand out. Sharp cheekbones, flawless skin, well-groomed hair, and eyes that were dark and even dangerous in their gaze. He was, in short, incredibly beautiful. Isa usually admired beauty in a person, not feeling pulled towards them in any way, but appreciating the rare beauty some people have naturally.

For once in her existence though she felt anything but appreciation for this man. His beauty felt so wrong it scared her. In fact, his eyes probably scared her the most. The look in his expression would betray kindness to the common stranger or maybe even someone standing at a distance, but for someone who learned how to read facial expressions in her youth and studied psychology in her adulthood: she knew that he was nothing his appearance tried to portray.

It probably helped that she hated the sound of musical or honeyed tones, it made her feel uncomfortable like crazy, reading into the sound often too much, but in this case, she grateful for it.

She was also terrified.

Because whoever this was, Isa was certain of one thing: he was a predator.

And so when he turned his eyes to her all she could do was feel her throat constrict and stare blankly back, hoping that at this moment her body wasn't betraying exactly how she was feeling inside. The man turned his gaze away from her to stare at the man and tsked softly, in an almost scolding manner that once again felt so wrong to Isa in a way she couldn't explain. Desperately she wanted to just grab her keys and flee like the world was on fire but couldn't, couldn't struggle or she'd be screwed.

She would just have to play this by the book and hope she could use the drunk as a distraction to book the hell out of this place.

"Scaring a perfectly fine lady like that, what do you have to say for yourself?" The man asked, stepping in front of her in an almost possessive manner to glower at the man. The drunk staggered back, clearly intimidating by something he saw in the man's gaze she herself couldn't see and physically cowered. Her brows furrowed, wondering what could throw a man so out-of-it in one gaze. "Get out of here, I don't enjoy the scent of alcohol so far in one's bloodstream. You could get yourself killed drinking so much," the man scolded again in an almost merciful way that sent Isa reeling; wondering why in high hell was he letting this creep walk away like being drunk in a dark alley approaching a girl meant nothing sinister?

But that thought was immediately banished as the drunk clearly agreed, almost panicked, before turning heel and running in the opposite direction as fast as he could while stumbling over his own feet. Isa jolted as she realized she was suddenly alone with the sound of death - a predator - in front of her. The man turned around slowly, raising his hands in a surrendering gesture, as he looked down at her (she cursed her height) with half-lidded but very clear eyes.

"Hope he wasn't too much trouble," he spoke to her, his voice once again musical with an almost calming tone to it. She felt her body, completely against her will, relax as he took a step towards her. She tried to make her limbs move in the opposite direction, tried with all her might, but it was as if suddenly her mind was disconnected from her body. "I really can't stand the taste of alcohol. Don't know why you sully yourselves drinking it. You're all so much better off without it."

Desperately trying to stall for time, she opened her mouth (apparently her only working body connection) and blurted, "You talk like you're so different." She would've winced at the roughness of her tone if she were with anyone else and anywhere else. He grinned at her, his lips parting enough to reveal shining pearly teeth. "Oh but I am. I take care of what I need."

He took another step towards her, his body moving out of the shadows revealing dark crimson eyes, sharpened unnatural canines, and an expression she had never seen directed towards her in her entire life. Something straight out of a horror novel.

She froze.

He took another step.

"Get the hell away from me!" She shouted, trying to stumble away and run. Try and get the hell away from this danger-magnet, but her body wouldn't move and she swore he had to be doing something to her. This couldn't be natural, her body freezing like it couldn't move, his predatorial look of hunger - not lust - directed at her.

"Shh, don't speak," he whispered, and to her utmost horror Isa found her mouth shut out of her own accord, and no matter how hard she tried to work her vocal cords and jaw they remained stagnant. Frozen like the rest of her body.

"It will only hurt a lot."

Mouth opened wide in a toothy grin, Isa found herself staring at his canine's lengthening into fangs before he shifted to cup her cheek with one hand in order to tilt her head to the side while his other hand came up to rest on her shoulder - keeping her in place. And then, he leaned forward and she felt herself want to shudder in disgust as his lips kissed the skin of her neck before followed by a sharp pain, blinding pain as teeth tore through flesh with the feeling similar to grating sandpaper and needles. She wanted to writhe in agony as the pain seemed to ignite like it were fire as this man - creature - bit into her. And then to her utmost horror, she realized he was actually drinking her blood. She could feel her own lifeblood move to her neck and be drained into the man's own throat.

It scared her more than she ever had been scared before. More fear than waking up in a foreign body, to a family that was not her own. Even more than dying.

And the worst part was knowing this wasn't a dream or some twisted hallucination of her rational mind.

She should've known really, through the agony of his fangs in her throat she thought of how she came to this life, her ability to see flashbacks of someone else's life through the touch of items out of her control. She didn't ask for a second chance in someone else's shoes, not the ability of precognition, and certainly not the knowledge that she wasn't the only person in the unnatural (dare she say supernatural) category.

Isa was in a world outside familiarity.

This couldn't be real.

But as black spots suddenly decorated her vision and the world began to spin uncontrollably on its axis she wondered how something real could have such agony? How the pain was feeling as though she was alight with fire; like her body was burning up from the inside-out, and she was all too aware of the presence beside her draining her of life.

And when he finally pulled away from her neck and moved back into her line of sight, she could only stare into his previous dark-crimson-almost-black eyes now-transformed vibrant red - his irises nothing like they were albino - and watched as his fangs retracted into normal, albeit still sharp-looking, canines she has seen before. He smiled at her then, as though saying he got what he wanted, and Isa could say or do nothing even if she could as she felt his hands move to each side of her head as they stared into one another's eyes.

"You can say what I am now, I know you've realized by now."

Isa swallowed, noticing her vocal cords were working again but still felt that her lungs constricted in a way that portrayed she didn't want to speak. Didn't want to accept this reality that's slapped her in the face.

Didn't want to face the truth even as she felt her own blood sliding down slick and warm against her neck.

"Say it," he demanded, something in his voice resonating with power that had Isa obeying the order utterly and completely against her will.

"Vampire," she gasped.

He tilted his chin up and smiled again at her, leaning in causing Isa to flinch having regained mobility in her body again but soon realized it didn't matter as his pure strength alone held her up by the man's grasp on each side of her head. She had no choice but to plant her feet on the pavement to keep herself from stretching the open wound on her neck. Ignoring her struggle the vampire said to her ear in the softest and gentlest of whispers, "Rest in peace, my lady."

And before she could blink she saw his arms move lightning fast before the lights went out and the last thing she heard was a resounding snap in the air.