Disclaimer: All characters from Blade, Underworld, and Twilight belong to their respective creators. Not me.

Author's Note: Please be aware that this fic takes place after the conclusion of Breaking Dawn, and there are spoilers everywhere. So if you haven't read Breaking Dawn and you don't want any surprises ruined for you, please stop here.

Blood Trust

by Amos Whirly

Chapter 2: Friends

Holy crap, I hate school. It's so boring. All we do is sit in some stupid, frickin' classroom and listen to some stupid, frickin' teacher talk about crap nobody cares about. I hate school. And it doesn't matter how many times I tell Abby, she still makes me go to my stupid, frickin' school.

It's so frickin' stupid!

So halfway through the day, after my stupid history teacher tried to con us into believing that Vlad the Impaler was the original vampire (Bull shit. I met the first vampire, and his name d wasn't Vlad.), I took off.

I hadn't been to Liberty Island in a while, so here I am. Spread out on the grass in my new school uniform. I'm probably going to get it covered in grass stains, and Abby's going to kick my ass.

Like I give a damn.

I spotted a cloud in the sky that reminded me of a motorcycle. It probably would have looked like something else to somebody normal, but to me it looked like a motorcycle. Black. Bulky. Covered in holsters for shotguns, hidden compartments for sundogs and garlic bombs, and slots for silver kunai. And the rider?

I squinted at the shifting cloud sitting on the imaginary motorcycle and decided it bore a stronger resemblance to King than to Blade.

I thought of King and smiled, and I wished my mom had let King be my guardian instead of Abby. King let me get away with all sorts of stuff. Abby was just a bitch.

King was fun and cute and loved sports and taco burgers. He taught me how to wrestle, how to punch, and how to kick bullies and muggers in the balls. He was probably the closest thing I'd ever had to a best friend (which really kind of sucks if you think about it).

Just once—Just once I'd like to be normal. Even though school sucks, I guess it's what normal kids do. I think I'd even be willing to suffer through school if I were normal. But I'll never be normal.

My blind mother was murdered by a vampire—Drake, the first vampire. My guardian is a vampire hunter. So is my best friend. And I live in a sleeper cell with them and a vampire/human hybrid obsessed with swords and other explosives. We don't see many vampires anymore, but the Lycans have taken their place (great big hairy freaks that smell like wet dog). Since we started fighting them, I've been shot at, kidnapped, cut up, and beaten. I've seen death. I've tasted blood. I haven't killed anyone yet, but I figure my time is coming.

I'm not afraid of it. As long as it's a suck head, I might even enjoy it. (I haven't got all that much against Lycans, but if one tries to kill me, you'd better believe I'll mess him up.)

I won't ever say that to Abby, though. She wants me to be an accountant or something stupid like that. She doesn't want me to be a vampire hunter.

What else am I supposed to be? I live with three of them. It's all I know. And it's all I want to know.

A sharp peal of laughter drew my attention to one of the observation areas. A girl with the most amazing golden hair I had ever seen was leaning out over the dock, waving boisterously at the city across the harbor.

Damn tourists.

She jumped up and down and clapped her hands together. She jumped off the edge of the dock railing and glided to a park bench where she had left a bag of chips and a hot dog.

As she turned and faced me, I was struck by how utterly perfect she was.

Perfect.

She had perfect skin. Perfect hair. A perfect smile. Perfect brown feyes. Her clothes fit like they had been tailored for her. Even the baseball cap perched on top of her golden hair looked like it belonged there.

I sat and stared at her, like I was some kind of freak (I realized absently).

She was probably my age, but she didn't walk like a teenager. She didn't act like a teenager. There was something innocent about her—but at the same time she seemed much wiser that she should have been.

Something wasn't right about her. Her skin was too perfect. Her hair was too curly. Her teeth were too white. Someone that perfect shouldn't exist. But there she was—in a baseball cap and blue jeans eating a hot dog and practically vibrating with excitement at seeing the Statue of Liberty.

The moment her gaze found me, I felt it. Weighty and light at the same time—like the first time Blade smiled at me (He actually has. I wouldn't lie about that. Of course, it only happened once, and it was after I accidentally racked King during a Lycan hunt.).

Who the hell was she?

Her radiant brown eyes filled with light, and she smiled at me from a distance. And it was like all my problems disappeared and the only thing I wanted was to be her friend. Like I would give anything to be her friend.

She was coming toward me. She was going to come talk to me!

What the hell was I supposed to say to her? Someone that beautiful, that innocent didn't belong in my world. She probably had rich parents and had never dreamed of the nightmare that was my everyday life.

She stopped beside me, still smiling. I couldn't take my eyes off her.

"Hi!" she said in a voice that warmed me on the inside.

I choked out a half-audible, "Hi."

"My name is Renesmee Cullen, but my friends call me Nessie," she said. "What's yours?"

Renesmee? I'd never heard a more ridiculous name, but at the same time it seemed to fit her. Cultured and elegant. The name rolled off her tongue with beautiful sound.

On anyone else I'm sure the name wouldn't work. More evidence that this beautiful girl was some kind of angel.

Her expectant expression pinned me; I couldn't have moved if I had wanted to. Hadn't she asked me a question? She asked my name.

"Zoe," I said, feeling like my voice was bland and dry compared to hers. "Zoe Sommerfield."

"Hello, Zoe Sommerfield," the girl chirped. "I'm very glad to meet you. Do you live in New York?"

"Kind of." I wasn't supposed to tell people where I lived.

"I'm visiting," Renesmee said. "I'm on vacation with my family."

"Cool," I struggled to say.

Vacation? When was the last time I went on a vacation? And family? Right. Like my family would actually let us go on vacation. I went Lycan hunting with King in London once (of course, Abby put a stop to that), but that was as much vacation as I'd ever had.

Renesmee was talking about the Sun now. So excited and bubbly about the sunlight.

"It's always cloudy where I live," she said, "so it's a gift to see the sun!"

I guess small things make her happy.

She was laughing about something now, and just like that I was laughing with her. I don't really even know what's funny, but just hearing her laugh makes made me feel like laughing too.

Who is she?

"How old are you?" Renesmee asked as she sat down next to me in the warm grass.

"Fourteen," I said.

"Shouldn't you be in school?"

I frowned. "Shouldn't you?"

"My parents teach me at home," Renesmee said.

"Well—so do mine." I knew I was a skilled liar, but something about Renesmee's expression told me that she didn't believe me.

"So—do you want to hang out together?"

I almost checked to see if she was joking. Girls like her didn't just want to hang out with girls like me. I wasn't really pretty, and I didn't wear new clothes. I wasn't popular, and I didn't spend all that much time on my hair.

But she was serious.

"Why would you want to hang out with me?" I asked before I could stop myself.

"I've never really had a friend like you," Renesmee smiled. She was dazzling when she smiled. "I'd like to be friends if you would be friends with me."

"But—you're—You just don't—You don't want to be friends with me."

How could I explain this to her? How could I explain that having anything to do with me would probably shorten her lifespan? How could I tell her that if we had a sleepover she would probably have to get past Blade? I'm not normal. I can't have friends. It had never been a problem before. Why did it bother me now?

Did I really want to be friends with her so badly?

"I think you would be a good friend," Renesmee said confidently. "I would like to be friends with you."

I wasn't convinced. Surely she wanted something from me. Surely she was some kind of a spy who had learned our secrets and wanted to drag information out of me. There was no other rational explanation for why someone so perfect would want anything to do with me.

"Well," I said hesitantly, "I guess I could show you around the city."

"Would you?"

"Yeah. I would do that. And then you could see that I'm not really the kind of friend that people like you would enjoy hanging around."

For a moment, I saw a shadow cross her face. I would have sworn she was reaching out to touch my hand, but she pulled back before she did.

There was too much going on behind her eyes that I couldn't translate.

"Where should we meet you, then?" Renesmee asked.

"Time Square," I said. "We?"

Renesmee's face brightened again, no sign of the brief shadow that had been there moments earlier.

"We," she said. "My best friend is with us too." She pointed over my shoulder, and I glanced.

I actually meant to only glance, but I was staring before I could stop myself.

A guy—a man—No. A giant was walking toward us carrying an armload of hotdogs and grinning ear to ear. He was huge. I don't' think I've ever seen anyone so tall!

He was bronze-skinned and dark haired. An Indian, maybe? But what Indians grow to be that big? What normal person grows to be that big? Wow!

He stopped beside us and grinned at Renesmee.

"Hey, Nessie," he said. He looked at me. "Who's your friend?"

"This is Zoe," Renesmee said. "Zoe, this is my best friend Jacob Black." Renesmee's face lit up. "Jacob, Zoe's going to be our tour guide tomorrow."

My heart gave a loud thump as Jacob's eyes turned to me. Maybe he wasn't staring, but it sure felt like he was. It was like his black eyes could pierce right through me—like he could read my mind or see all my secrets or something—it was chilling. And he—he wrinkled his nose.

What? Did I smell bad or something?

I decided right then and there that I didn't like Jacob Black.

"So—Time Square tomorrow morning? Nine o'clock?" Renesmee asked me.

"Sure. Right. Nine o'clock." I tore my eyes away from Jacob and mustered up a smile for Renesmee.

I couldn't help but wonder what I was getting myself into. But either way it's better than school.

Author's Note: Thank you to eyesFINGERStoes for catching my flub!