A/N- Huge thanks to my beta Acrosstheskyinstars who does fabulous work as well as just being a kick ass person in general.

Again this is for CelesticBliss who won the FFAA banner-rama contest on Facebook. If you want to see the banner for this, it is on facebook and also on TWCS under my pen name Vampiremama.

Chapter 1

1918

Isabella Swan had lived her whole life in solitude. Not by choice, but the very nature of her upbringing. Her father had purchased a cabin after her mother had died giving birth to her. He claimed the air in the woods gave him peace. While she had always wished for more company, she could not call her father anything but doting.

He provided her school lessons as well as worldly things such as how to use a pistol. She found solace in her books although the heroines usually seemed to be women that lacked a certain amount of character. Isabella considered herself a lady but she had no intentions of being weighed down by a puffed up braggart who saw her as some sort of prize, or worse yet, a servant to bear his children.

Isabella wanted more from life than that, she needed to make her own way and see what adventures life held for her. There was much she intended to see and learn, so even though she was met with much protest from her father, her insistence won out.

"What on earth do you need so much of my blood for, father?" Isabella asked as the man drew yet another needle of the liquid from her arm. "You will leave me too weak to journey."

"Hush now," her father scolded. "It is not for the child to question their father."

"I am hardly a child anymore," Isabella said with a laugh.

Her father had always drawn a vial of her blood each month. It was something she never queried, but now that she was leaving, he seemed to need so many.

"There, that should do it," he proclaimed as he set the last vial down.

"But I shall be gone a full year, father. Shouldn't you have twelve?" she asked looking at the vials and counting only eight.

"I do not wish for you to become too ill to partake in your journey. Eight will suffice." His words left no room for argument but Isabella felt a strange sensation pulling in her center. Something did not seem right. "Come now, or you will miss your train."

Dutifully, she followed her father to the carriage where he helped her aboard and then loaded her luggage on the cart for the porter. Waiting on the platform, Charlie looked at his daughter; she was so grown up, a woman now. He had kept her safe from harm but now he must let her journey out into the world. Unlike other fathers, though, he was certain this would be the last time he saw his precious daughter. If something didn't get her first, in eight months he had signed his own death sentence. He just hoped by that time she was too far away for them to find.

"I am still baffled as to why you will not join me, father," Isabella said as she stood on the train platform.

"I am too old a man to be traveling so," he answered.

"Father, you are still full of youth. Besides, surely riding on a train cannot be as difficult as chopping fire wood or hunting."

Her father looked at her with a fond smile. "Don't let that tongue of yours get you into trouble."

"I will miss you," Isabella whimpered as she threw her arms around her father's neck.

"As I you, my precious daughter."

Charles handed her luggage to the porter who escorted Isabella onto the train. It was uncommon for a woman to travel alone, but Isabella had been taught things most women had not been. However, it was not the scoundrels on the train who worried Charles, it was the sinister monsters that collected from him monthly. With a teary wave, Charles said goodbye to his only daughter for what he was sure was the last time.

The train was different than she had imagined. The hallways were narrow, but the compartment she was led to was lovely. Lavish drapes hung from the window and the walls were covered in the finest wallpaper. It was clearly a higher end car and Isabella knew she had been delivered to the wrong room.

"Sir, are you sure this is my compartment?" she asked.

The man looked at the ticket again and nodded. "Yes, Miss." He handed her back her ticket and placed her luggage on the stand in the room. He paused a moment, and Isabella reached into her purse and handed him a tip. "Thank you, Miss. Have an enjoyable journey."

When the porter left, Isabella could no longer contain her excitement. She let out a happy squeal and spun around in her room. There was a small amount of guilt, knowing her father had purchased a ticket for her that was much out of his means.

"Oh father," she mused allowed, "how you spoil me."

Isabella hurried to her luggage and opened the case. She removed some of her finer things and hung them in the closet, assuring they would not wrinkle. She unpinned the hat from her hair and laid it on the dresser top before sitting down in front of the vanity mirror. Her face was unlike she had ever seen it, full of whimsy and excitement. Living as she had her whole live, she was ready for new faces and an adventure.

Several cars down, a man thought nearly the same thing as Isabella. He had spent a long portion of his life in solitude, preparing himself for this trip. He had only been on the train for thirty minutes but he was already considering it a success.

It had taken a lot longer than his master had thought to become accustomed, but now it was time to test the theory. The whole train smelled flavorful to him, he knew any one of the people on it would make for a good meal, but he had control, thanks to her.

The man – nay, not a man – the vampire, did not know who the girl was; he only knew her blood was his one weakness now. She had provided his kind with a cure of sorts. Of course they still had to eat, but with nothing as satisfying as her blood, it was easier for them to choose when and where they would feed. It was what allowed him to be on the train surrounded by so much fresh, pulsing blood and not be in pain.

He heard the footsteps long before he heard the knock on his door, but he waited a moment before answering, feigning human reaction time. The man on the other side of the door was stout and wore a uniform.

"Ticket please," he barked, his voice gruff yet not unfriendly.

Normally in a situation like this, alone with a human, the man would not have stood a chance against the vampire and his hunger. However, with perfect control, the vampire handed over his ticket and watched as the man punched it before returning it.

When the door closed behind the conductor, the vampire let out a chuckle in delight. "Extraordinary!"

Isabella had rearranged the things in her room until they were perfect. She sighed and looked around, wondering just when the fun of her adventure would start. It seemed to her she traded one lonely room for another, and here she was absent of her father.

"I came to meet people, and that is just what I intend to do," she said to herself, re-pinning her hat on her head. She powdered the shine from her face and combed a stray hair back.

The hallway was empty and she was unsure exactly which way the dining cart was. She looked down the hallway and then up it, not certain of what way to head. Deciding an adventure included the unknown, she headed toward the front of the train, passing through two cars before finding a conductor.

"Excuse me, sir," she said, catching his attention. "Could you direct me to the dining car?"

"Of course, Miss. You need to go back four cars."

"Thank you," she replied, turning and heading back the way she came.

The vampire had heard the conversation in the hallway, along with every one happening in the train car. He hadn't given it any attention, focused instead on his journal. That was until the scent had seeped under his door and rose to greet him. His nostrils flared and his eyes grew wide.

"No," he growled, his grip on the desk so firm the wood crumbled in his stone-like hand.

It took everything in his being not to race out and find the source of the delicious scent. There was only one thing that smelled as good as that blood.

It was her.

The past seventeen years, he had been trained to only want one taste, that of the babe his master had found. Of course she was not a babe anymore, but likely a woman now. Her blood called so loudly to him it was like a siren. He knew this day could come, but there was a consequence; if he fed on her now, it would mean finding a new source and retraining. It had taken seventeen years for the coven to become accustomed to desiring only her blood. Surely it would take longer to learn to crave a new one. Because once they stopped tasting her in everything, it wouldn't take long before the entire human population would become their buffet once more.

The vampire remembered when everyone had tasted good. It didn't matter if it were a man or women, young or old, they all quenched his thirst. Now, it was the one drop a month they each got of the sacrifice that yielded more enjoyment than draining an entire town. It would appear the old way was better, feeding and enjoying at their leisure, but they couldn't blend. They had to live in the woods or caves or out of the way. They couldn't own a home or walk the streets for fear that they would give in and expose their kind. The vampire had wanted that more than anything, to be among the cities, to enjoy the creations of man, art, theater, and possibly even gambling.

His mind pulled him in two. Logically he knew he did not want to eat the sacrifice. It would be a small amount of pleasure for a long term cost. And yet, it would not be small. She would be the greatest meal he'd ever had.

Without another thought, he grabbed his hat and headed into the hall.

The dining car was unlike anything Isabella had experienced before. Men with white gloves brought her a drink and a bowl of dinner rolls. She grabbed one and split it open with her fingers before covering it with butter. A gasp caused her to turn her head, and only then did she realize she was the object of the surprise. A table of ladies gawked at her as she held her bun in the air.

Isabella knew father was not the epitome of class and style but she had thought the things he had taught her about propriety would be enough for her to pass in the world at large, but as the women from the other table stared at her, she also knew her manners were shy of what was expected of a women in the first class dining car.

She placed the bun down and turned her eyes to her plate. Isabella was unable to move, not wanting to make a mistake.

"Pay them no attention, they are just jealous such an enchanting creature is eclipsing them."

Isabella looked up and saw a tall and handsome man at her table. She felt her cheeks flush at his compliment. "I am quite sure it was not my beauty that caught their attention. I do, however, thank you for your disregard of my lack of manners. You are very kind, sir."

"May I be so bold as to ask to join you, Miss…?"

"Swan. Miss Swan," she replied, and nodded her head.

The man sat down across from her, and Isabella felt a strange concern come over her. The man's eyes had changed the moment he had sat down. His kindness seemed to dissipate and there was something else behind it. Hunger.

Isabella shifted in her seat and turned her attention back to her roll.

"Are you travelling alone?" he asked.

The question was laced with expectations, and suddenly the warnings from her father had returned to her. She raised her eyes to the man across from her.

"I am."

His smile grew, and there was a cruel edge to it. Isabella no longer wished to have the man at her table, but he settled in, not making any indication of leaving.

Isabella brought her hand to her temple and let out a sigh; the trick would hopefully free her from the man.

"I am afraid that I am no longer feeling well. If you will please excuse me."

The man rose with Isabella, as was expected, but when he stepped around the table and offered to escort her to her room, she knew she would not be rid of him so easily. He held out his arm for her and she knew as a lady it would be rude to refuse, so she gritted her teeth and slipped her arm through his.

"It's not necessary for you to escort me to my room," she said, still hoping to dissuade him.

"I insist," he replied, his voice dripping of another meaning.

Isabella nodded and allowed the man to lead her out of the dining cart. She had no desire to let the man know which room she was actually in, so she led him past her room and into the next train car. Stopping in front of a random door she released her arm from the man. She looked up at him and again thought how he would have been very handsome if his features weren't coated with a sinister film, tainting any attraction she might have felt for him.

"Thank you," she said and waited for him to leave.

"I would not leave without knowing the lady was safe in her room," he insisted.

Isabella had a moment of panic, knowing she'd been caught in a lie, but her father had taught her well, and she opened her purse and feigned surprise.

"Oh dear, I seem to have lost my key. I will go and find the conductor and have him let me in my room."

The man rolled his eyes and then pushed Isabella up against the wall with a fierce shove, causing a small sound of surprise to escape her lips. Knowing he had to stop her from screaming, he clamped his hand over her mouth and leaned in.

"Pretty young thing," he sneered. "You are going to take me to your real room now, and we are going to get to know each other a little better. If you are good, then no one has to get hurt." Isabella's eyes went wide as he looked at her for confirmation. She nodded her head and he slowly released his hand over her mouth, not taking it far in case she chose to scream. When he was sure she would not make a fuss, he took a step back and offered her his arm again.

If there was one thing her father insisted, it was that men were not to be trusted. Isabella had always shrugged off this idea, thinking he was exaggerating. She no longer doubted his words and lessons, so with a great amount of force she pulled her arm back, clenched her fist tight, and threw it at the man.

The idea of a woman punching a man was so preposterous that the man didn't even bother to block the hit. Isabella's fist landed squarely on his nose, causing a horrible crunching noise followed by blood spurting out everywhere.

The vampire watched through the window of the car door; he had intended to step in once the man had threatened the girl, but he hadn't gotten to her in time and from what he'd witnessed, it seemed he didn't need to. He smirked as he watched the man curse and sputter, the girl running off down the hall.

When the man stood up and decided to chase her, the vampire stepped in. With speed much quicker than the train was traveling, the man had been stopped and dragged into the vampire's room.

"What…what are you?" the sinister man stuttered as he felt the fear growing. "Nothing human can move that fast."

"You're right," the vampire said, and then descended on the man, draining him quickly and then tossing his body from his window. Edward was not worried about his actions, it was clear a man like that would travel alone, and he doubted anyone would miss him before the next stop.

The blood had not satisfied him. He was full, but with the scent of her all over the man, it would have been easy to resist, had he chosen to. It was another successful test of the theory and yet the vampire felt no better. He still wanted her. She had been so close in the dining car and had the man not sat across from her, he might have. If the vampire had escorted her to her room, all her punch would have done was broken her tiny, fragile hand. Had things not played out like they had, the girl would likely be dead.

Isabella reached the front car before she realized she was running away from her own room. There was no way she was going to go back the way she came without an escort. She had bested the man once, but she knew the element of surprise had been on her side, she didn't know if she would be so lucky a second time.

There was no conductor in sight and Isabella's heart pounded in her chest as she thought of walking back through the cars alone. Had he pursued her? Her hand began to throb and she examined it. Seeing she had blood on her glove, she pulled them off and deposited them into her purse. She had thrown punches before, but never against a man's face. Her knuckles were red and sore, and if she ran into the man again, she would have a hard time throwing a punch with them.

With no other options, Isabella started back down through the cars, peering carefully as she crossed from one to the other. Her heart pounded in her chest as she entered the cart where she had been attacked. She could see the blood on the carpet but no sign of the man, and she carefully stepped forward. The door next to her opened and she let out a shriek.

"Sorry, Miss. I didn't mean to startle you."

Isabella had never heard a voice quite like his. It was deep and musical, the way her books had always described the hero to sound. His face was striking, a strong jaw framed with sideburns that reflected the light like a shiny new penny. A hat covered his hair but Isabella wondered if it was the same bright color as what rested on his cheeks.

"It is I who must apologize, I am certain you did not expect to be shrieked at as you exited your room."

The vampire had heard her, he had tasted her scent on the air and had known better than to go into the hall, and yet he had not been able to help himself. He stood before her as she gazed upon him. He felt himself wonder what she thought of him. He knew she would find him pleasing to the eye; it was not vanity but the makeup of his genes that made him certain of this. His kind was meant to attract, not that they needed it. With his strength and speed, he was unstoppable. What he wished to know was whether she was afraid of him. Her heart had already been racing before he entered into the hall, he could not tell from that. Did she know how close she was to death?

The vampire was very glad he had just eaten, otherwise her delicious aroma would have been too much for him. Even now she called to him, begging him to taste.

"You look startled, Miss. Can I accompany you somewhere?"

The man before her drew her in, he made her want to go to him, but after the experience she'd just had, she was done being escorted anywhere.
"Thank you, but that will not be necessary." And before he could respond, she spun on her heel and headed quickly down the hall.

Isabella stared at her hand; she expected to see it throb since the pain was so intense. It was visibly swollen and red. She walked to the sink and turned on the cold water, wincing as she stuck her hand in the stream. The icy liquid bit at her skin, causing a shooting pain that then faded back into the throbbing sensation. The pain dissipated slowly, and once it was bearable again, she pulled her hand out and wrapped the hand towel around her fist.

She sat down on her bed and cradled her hand in her lap. Her day had been something out of one of her novels. When she left home, she had wanted excitement, but prowling men and fist fights had not been on the top of her list.

A soft knock on her door startled her, and she quickly unwrapped her fist, clenching and releasing her fingers, wondering if she would be able to throw another punch if it was the same man on the other side of the door. The shooting pain that spread right up her arm told her it was unlikely.

Cautiously, she approached the door, like it might fly open to reveal a sinister creature. Isabella shook her head, chiding herself for such silly thoughts. The man had not seen which room she was in, she was safe.

Pulling open the door, Isabella was surprised to see two men on the other side.

"May I help you gentlemen?" she asked.

"Yes, miss," one of them answered, producing a photo from his jacket and holding it up for her. "Do you know this man?"

"Why? Is there something wrong?" Isabella inquired, trying to keep her voice steady.

"I'm afraid so. This man is missing."

Isabella paled. The face in the picture was the man she had punched not two hours earlier.

"Missing?"

The second man cleared his throat. "Would you mind telling us what happened to your hand there, Miss?"

E/N- Thanks for reading…and totally off topic, who else is stoked for the Hunger Games movie?