Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight, or any of its characters. But I do own my brand of Darkward. S. Meyer owns everything that's Twilight.

NOTE: This is a new chapter, the previous ones have been more or less the same as the one shot, with slight changes here and there. I divided the OS into 3 chapters because that way it looks better.

"Oh, hell!" I blurted as I collided with someone, my project material flying everywhere in a shower of printouts and folders.

"I'm sorry," a honey-dripping voice offered as two hands shot out to steady my wobbling frame.

My head snapped up to meet the contrite face of… Edward Cullen, and I briefly realized how much more attractive he looked up close; not that he wasn't drop dead gorgeous from a distance.

However, his seraphic face did not help with the odd hostile and intimidating vibe he always gave off. So, naturally, I distanced myself from him.

"I didn't see you around the corner, I'm really sorry," he mumbled, his voice sounding a little throttled. Must be a sore throat, I deduced.

"It's okay." I shrugged, reaching for my now scattered and mixed-up project material.

"Let me help you." He bent down right alongside me, picking my stuff up faster than I could have done alone. I didn't mind. He was able to collect more of it since he had nice, big, male hands, as opposed to my clumsy feminine ones.

I attempted to retrieve my stuff from his hands, but he resisted, moving it out of my reach.

"I'll walk you to your truck and then deposit these wherever you want them," he proffered, flashing a disarming smile in my direction.

"Umm, okay."

I almost felt like asking him how he knew that I drove a truck, but then I shrugged it off. After all, Forks High was a typical small town school where everyone knew a bit too much about everyone else. Even I knew what car he drove, though I didn't really know him.

"Hey, you're Bella, right?" he asked, walking me to my red Chevy.

"Umm, yeah," I casually replied, feeling my cheeks grow warm. "E-Edward Cullen, right?" He nodded, a small smile lighting up his face.

We hadn't really talked to each other since I had moved here three months ago. And what little scope of conversation we did have, evaporated the moment I came to sit beside him in our English class.

He had glared at me with a murderous flare, and I'd cowered away into my seat until the class ended. Once class was over, he had stormed out of the there like a bat out of hell. I had no idea why.

Needless to say, I stayed away from him when I could. And it was easy for the most part; we didn't have that many classes together. But when it was unavoidable, I sat as far away as possible. To hell with the hotness, the guy gave me the creeps.

"I'm really sorry for this mess," he said, eyeing my folders as he held them, "I wasn't watching where I was going. Must have disturbed the order of the papers and stuff."

Why was he trying to be conversational? It was so out of character for him.

"I have them numbered, so no biggie." I tried to act normal with him; like that episode in English never happened. Truthfully, I was having a hard time recalling that memory as he stood before me now. His smiling face looked incapable of such hostility.

Maybe I had misjudged him. So I figured starting over anew was the best option. Although, something about him still made me feel uncomfortable.

"Okay, thanks for the helping hand," I said as we reached my truck. "You can put these here in my passenger seat." I motioned toward the papers he held.

He nodded and did as I asked of him. For some odd reason, he lingered around my passenger side, regarding my mode of transport with curious eyes while I fired the ignition.

And very anti-climactically, or should I say climactically, my truck didn't start. Way to pummel my ego when the snazzy silver car driving hottie is watching.

I tried again, and again, but still no response. It was dead, and I wished I was too, because Edward was staring at me with a concerned look.

"Something wrong?" he asked, coming around to the driver's side.

"Yeah, well, I guess it just croaked." I waved my hands in defeat, not meeting his eye. "I'll have to take it to a mechanic, preferably my friend, whose dad actually owned it before me."

"Okay, but I guess it can't be done today, right?"

I gave him a small nod.

"I'll drive you home then, and you can call your friend over tomorrow or whatever."

I surreptitiously glanced around the parking lot to see if I had any other options aside from humiliating myself further. Because really, I would feel even more insignificant if he drove me home in his shiny silver sedan.

The lot was almost deserted now. I didn't even realize how late it was getting.

"Okay," I squeaked in agreement, slipping out of my truck.

Edward was swift in moving my things to his car. I was glad for his help, because I knew dinner would get late if I didn't reach home soon. After all, I was the designated cook of the house.

He slipped a hand around my shoulder to guide me to his car, even though I could clearly see where it was parked. Wow, I never expected that from Edward Cullen, the aloof, brooding guy who never bothered to get close to anyone, let alone girls.

I didn't understand why, but with each step toward his car, the hairs on my back rose like hackles, as though something was wrong.

"Cool interior," I praised, observing the inside of his car once I settled in.

He just smirked and nodded. Smug much?

I didn't know what else to say, so I kept quiet. Idle chit-chat was not really my thing. Plus, I was feeling kind of nervous, which may or may not have been due to Edward Cullen's sex appeal.

Anyway, my home wasn't that far away from school, so I knew it'd be a short ride home. And he was driving fast, which meant it would be shorter than usual.

As my home neared, I began to unbuckle my seatbelt. I was hoping for him to reduce the car speed, now that he needed to park.

But the car wasn't slowing down, and that was enough to spike my nerves. We were about to pass my house, and it looked as though he wasn't planning on stopping.

"Edward," I choked out, trembling with a sudden bout of anxiety. "My home… My home just… passed." My home and everything else outside was a mere blur now.

"Oh?" he asked, glancing outside. He was faking the concerned look he gave me; I was damn sure of it.

"Wh-where are you taking me? I want to go home!" I tried to load my voice with some extra determination, but it came out all hoarse and edgy.

"Silly Bella, you're not going home today," he replied coolly, turning his face toward me. He was smiling, but it wasn't a pleasant smile. It was more like a triumphant sneer which was slowly widening into a full-blown fiendish grin.

My body gave an involuntary shudder.

The car was moving along the highway, to God knows where. All I could discern was the thickening forest ahead of us.

I briefly speculated opening my door and just throwing myself out, but then I remembered how fast we were going. It would be smarter for me to jump out when he came to a stop.

Edward's hand suddenly clamped onto mine, and I jerked in shock. His skin was ice-cold!

My eyes flashed to his, and for the first time, I noticed how oddly pitch-black they were. I couldn't even distinguish the pupils from the irises.

He loosened his grip on my hand and concentrated on driving again. I just stared at him incredulously, silently urging myself to keep calm. But who was I kidding? My heart was thumping a mile a minute.

I kept telling myself that this must be a trick, a prank, or something. Why would he want to hurt me, the daughter of the police chief?

Turning down a deserted dirt road, Edward slammed the breaks and killed the engine.

I was about to protest anew, but he was at my door faster than you could say, "I'm so fucked!"

The door flew open and in came his looming hands out to grab me.

"Edward," I gasped, attempting to shrink back inside the car, but he pulled me out all too easily, as though I was weightless.

His didn't let up his hold on me, not even when I struggled with all my might.

"Bella," he cooed in my ear, "don't be so difficult, you're making it harder for me to control myself."

"What the hell do you want from me?" I cried, my vision blurring with tears.

I didn't get an answer; instead, he just tucked me in his arms like some sick toddler. And then the air around me passed in a whoosh.

I had no idea what was happening, but I suddenly felt weightless. It was disorienting, and I realized I was screaming as a result.

Finally, he let me go, and I stumbled away from him. My feet gave beneath me, and I fell flat on my butt.

He was hovering above me in the next second. Panic surged inside me, and I tried to scream again, but he cut me off with his hand.

My wide, teary eyes looked into his as he kept his hand firmly clamped upon my mouth.

"I just… need a little taste, just a little. I don't want to kill you, okay?" he muttered, sounding like a complete loon. "If you struggle, then you will die."

He removed his hand from my mouth and grabbed my shoulders instead. I just stared at him in absolute horror.

"Please, don't… I'm a virgin," I blurted out, desperate to somehow deter him from doing the god-awful act I presumed he was planning to. I was thinking of threatening him by using my Dad's designation, but I was afraid that it would only egg him on.

He blinked at me for a second or two, and then chuckled loudly. "What strange ideas the humans get."

"Wh-what?" Why was he acting as though he was above humans, like he wasn't one? Wait, he didn't feel like one, per se.

What had I gotten myself into?

"Although you're quite tempting, I'm not planning on popping your cherry," he stated, eyeing the collar of my Tee.

Then what was he planning? Was he… like some crazed axe murderer or something?

My lips quivered, as a new round of tears came flooding down my eyes. I was going to end up broken and smashed, a victim of a serial killer. I thought about my dad, and how it was highly likely that he'd be the one to recover my body.

"Don't," he ordered, reaching for my collar. "I'm not fucking going to rape you, just stop with the weeping!"

"You're going to kill me!" I wailed, blubbering and sobbing like I had never done before.

"I don't want to, okay? But you're making it impossible for me," he shot back, grabbing my Tee and pulling me closer.

As I inhaled long, struggled breaths, his scent filled my lungs, rendering me momentarily dazed.

And then I felt it—his icy lips on my neck, the cold of his tongue tingling my skin as he sucked on it.

"What the…" I whispered in shock, all my wailing and thrashing forgotten.

He hummed, literally hummed into my neck, as though he was high or something.

That tongue… cold and wet tongue… licked languidly on my skin, as if I was some rare flavored ice-cream. More shockingly, it made me light-headed.

My back arched and my whole body felt suddenly alive and aware of his proximity. It literally ached for contact, any contact.

Edward pulled away from me then, and stared at me with bewildered eyes. I was going to ask him what the hell he was doing to me, but I was cut short by a string of loud, monstrous growls.

It all happened suddenly and so quickly, that my eyes only registered colors at first. Brown—black—white—sandy—all swishing about each other.

It took me a while to see that Edward was trying to fight off a pack of huge ass wolves—the size I had never seen before.

I stared in wonder as they fought and evaded each other. The wolves were quick, but Edward was quicker, much quicker. One of them snapped at him, and his shirt got caught in its teeth. It was a close shave, but he evaded the wolf by a hairsbreadth.

The growls got louder, as Edward tried to reach me from around these mammoth wolves. For once, he was successful, and he pulled me against him one last time before whispering in my ear.

"I'll come back for you," he promised me, and then he was gone… leaving me terror-struck and frozen on the damp ground.

I woke up with a jerk, feeling woozy and tired, as if my weight had gone up in tons. I was lead.

To add to my misery, my fucking nightmare had returned. After all these years, I thought I had mastered the art of blocking it, but no, it just came back, as lucid as before. Why was this one scary memory so clear, when others tended to fade?

Groaning, I just about managed to raise my head a little, only to crash again. That's when I realized I was on the floor, because my jaw fucking hurt on impact.

I opened my eyes and looked sideways at the limbs of my bed, which were just mere inches away from me.

Various questions popped in my head then…

Why the fuck was I on the floor and not on my bed?

What time was it?

What day was it?

Why did I feel so spent?

What had happened in the last few hours?

I had to really push myself to try to remember all these details. At first, I came back blank, but then, certain images began floating into my consciousness.

Halloween… Return of the undead monster of my nightmare… Tango with death… Chernabog… FUCK—ING—a vampire!

Literally in that order.

I jerked upright in shock, as all of the horrendous events of last night filtered through my fuzzy memory.

Edward…

Edward-Fucking-Vampire-Cullen!

Edward-The-Orgasm-Machine!

Edward-My death sentence!

My head spun round and round, still reeling from the memories of last night… of the mind-melting, multiple-orgasmic fuck I had received from that man. That infuriating man—vampire—whatever, who had paid me a visit on the eve of hallows to…well, to eat me.

He did eat me, actually, and I wasn't complaining then. Oh, that prehensile tongue…

Edward Cullen, my grim reaper, and the best fuck I'd ever had. That one name echoed in my mind, numbing me with terror, arousing me with its recollection.

I rocked back and forth as I sat there on the floor, running my hands up and down around my arms. My body ached, and I was certain I had a litany of bruises running all along it. Fuck, I had welcomed that bruising touch last night; I had wanted it rough.

What the hell had just happened? What the fuck had I done?

I mentally slapped—no—punched myself.

Having sex with a vampire… what was I thinking?

It was sick and twisted as far as I remembered it, even though he had made my toes curl with pleasure. I felt like a cheap whore, or worse maybe, since I was certainly wrong in the head. Who just goes and has sex with their potential murderer? Thankfully, I was still alive, despite what his intentions may have been.

Wait, I was alive, right?

I felt alive, but just to be on the safe side of things, I checked my pulse. It was there, all right. I wasn't dead.

Yet…

My hand instinctively reached for my neck, where he had bitten me; I remembered it now—the sting, the revolting smell of blood, everything. I felt around for a scar of sorts, but found nothing, except for the smooth, unbroken texture of my skin.

I knew there would be no puncture wounds. Vampires of reality were nothing like the vampires of the lore. According to my knowledge regarding the vampires, his teeth should have left a huge crescent scar on my skin, but there was none.

I crawled toward my dressing mirror and checked my reflection. I realized I was naked, and I immediately turned red with mortification.

A lot of angry hickeys marked my skin, from my neck to my legs. When did he suck on my fucking legs?

Then there were the bruises. A few purple finger impressions adorned my hips, my shoulders, my ribs… Ouch! I didn't even feel them at the time. I had actually relished in the fact that he was holding me so tight.

I was definitely fucked-up in the head.

I'd have to hide all the marks; the evidence of my nightly ravishment. No one could ever know about last night.

Through this inventory of my body, one thing was clear to me—there was no scar on my skin, at least not any of the vampire kind. There had to be a scar or something that resembled a vampire bite, or else, how had I smelt my blood?

And then one trickle of a possibility sprung in my head. Had I dreamt of him? Had I made up all of the events of last night?

I certainly wasn't hallucinating about him, these hickeys and bruises were confirmation of that… of my thorough fucking at his hands.

Shit, I needed to not think about that part, it was messing with my head and my body.

I shook my head, trying to clear my thoughts.

Reluctantly, I heaved myself up from the floor and trudged to my nightstand to retrieve my cell phone. But before I could fish it out of my purse, my eyes drifted to the other things that occupied the small table.

Something shiny caught my eye, and I discovered it was a trophy of some sort. Picking it up, I realized that it was the winner's trophy of the dance competition hosted by Drunken Dancing. The competition in which I had participated.

With shaky hands, I picked up the other stuff that lay on my nightstand. There was a signed cheque in my name, along with some form of certificate approving of my dancing abilities, along with Edward's. And then there was a neatly folded piece of paper beside it.

As I picked it up and began unfolding it, I heard the voice of Angela, filtering through from the living room. Then there was the distinct bang of the main door closing.

Shit, she was home. Of course, it was a Monday; she wouldn't stay over at Ben's. Usually, it was Ben who was always here on weekends, not vice-versa, but I didn't have the time to contemplate on their changed plans.

I ran over to my bathroom, the folded note still clutched in my hands. Once inside, I locked myself in and fumbled with the shower faucet.

I was going to take a shower anyway, so why not now?

The note nearly slipped from between my fingers, but I caught it quickly. Opening it finally, I attempted to read whatever was written inside.

The writing was neat and elegant, inciting a lot of envy from inside me. Though, my green-eyed monster passed out on the bathroom floor when I read what the black ink said.

The folks at the club thought you rude for not being there to receive the prize, but don't worry, I saved face. The trophy and the cheque are all yours, the booty shorts are mine, as a memento.

I must thank you as well, for the, well, good times. I savored every drop of my dessert; you're sweet all around. Plus, my apologies, for I tend to forget about my strength, especially when distracted.

Till we meet again.

Take care, my feisty red cherry,

Yours truly…

PS – The wolves were fun to play with. Though you might want to call your pet and tell him you're at home, since he still thinks you're with me.

Fuck me, he took my boyshorts! That perv!

Oh, and I needed to call Jacob ASAP. Where the hell would he be at this hour? Would he be in human form or wolf?

"Bella! You in there?"

Angela's yelling from outside made me jump. Well, I appreciated it, since it brought me out of my trance.

"Yeah!" I managed to squeak. "Taking a shower!"

"Oh… okay," she trailed off, sounding as though she wanted to say more. "Wait!"

I would have rolled my eyes if I hadn't been feeling so damn tired. "Yup?"

"Is… anyone in there with you?" she asked hesitantly.

"What the hell, Angie?" No, seriously. "Do you think I have a shower fetish or something?" Not that I denied it, but it was none of her business.

"Oh, sorry!" And with that, I heard her retreat, leaving me in peace.

I hid the note in my bathrobe pocket and headed under the shower spray to relax my wound up body. My shower lasted longer than I had intended, hence making me late for work.

Peeking out of my bathroom door, I was glad to see that my room was empty. But I intuitively knew that I wouldn't be left alone for long. So getting my butt out of here as quickly as possible was my best option.

I dressed in haste, grabbing a white shirt and black pants from my closet and tying my hair in a ponytail. A matching black peplum jacket and a skinny belt completed the look, essentially helping me in hiding most of my skin. Simple styling was my mantra today, because anything more than that would waste my time.

Angela was taking her own morning shower when I headed out. I was happy to have evaded her, for now.

I reached my workplace just in the nick of time. Okay, maybe a little late by my boss's standards.

As I made for my office, I found Christy Hemlock, my boss and the owner of Hemlock Designs, chatting with her stepdaughter, my good friend Alice Brandon.

They stood smack in the middle of the hallway, thereby making it impossible for me to go incognito.

"Hey Bella," they both greeted me in chorus, but in opposing tones. Alice was pleasant as usual, but Christy… well; let's just say that she was reminding me about workplace punctuality.

I mentally cursed my luck again, which was getting old now.

"Morning ladies," I mumbled with an apologetic smile, "I'm sorry for being late. Got caught up."

Christy gave me a stiff nod, while Alice offered a sympathetic smile.

"Do you have the latest designs in jute fabric, the ones I mentioned on Friday?" Christy asked, eyeing something on my face… no, my neck, I think. "Or were you too busy this weekend?" The last sentence seemed like an afterthought, as she continued to stare at my neck.

"Oh, yeah, those… Yup, I have them in my laptop. I'll bring them to you in a few."

I decided to check my neck in the mirror as soon as I reached my room.

"All right, I'll be waiting in my office." Christy turned around and disappeared around the hallway.

"So, I'm not gonna push you for details or anything," Alice said, her eyes twinkling with humor, "but really, Bella, those are some prominent hickeys."

Shit! Busted! My face immediately grew hot.

"Umm…" I began, not really sure how I could wave it off. "Alice, it's really not—"

"Hey," she interrupted, gently placing her hand on my arm. "It's okay. Your personal life details are just that—personal. I don't get off on TMI, anyway." She winked at me and then proceeded toward the design room.

Did I mention that Alice was actually sort of an angel?

Once inside my room, I checked my reflection in my small compact mirror. Two angry hickeys peeked from the edge of my shirt collar.

Edward's bruising lips floated back in my memory, and the compact slipped from my grip.

Slowly, inadvertently, my memory cruelly displayed the events of the Hallow's night to me… again and again. My whole body shook in violent spasms as the panic finally set in.

I had embraced a monster, a monster who had intended to kill me for his personal satisfaction. Why didn't I just choose to die instead? Why was I so defenseless against him? Why couldn't I resist him?

My intercom beeped, prompting me to play normal for now. I needed to repress my bad memories to function properly. I couldn't let it all out at this moment, so I steeled myself and picked up the phone.

I took the intercom call from Christy, assuring her that I was nearly done with the latest designs. Thankfully, my façade of normalcy didn't fail me this time.

I applied concealer to my neck hickeys, and, just to be on the safe side, I buttoned my shirt up right to the hilt.

Before I made it to Christy, I made the requisite and unavoidable call to Jacob, to inform him that I was safe.

"What the fuck do you mean, Bella?" he blared from the other side. "His trail was heading toward Canada. At least, that's what it looked like."

"I don't know about trails, Jake, but I'm well and good." I bit my lip, wondering what else I could offer. "And thanks… for coming to my rescue."

"I didn't come to your rescue," he lamented, "I couldn't make it in time. That fucker… he got away. Again!"

"Jake, just calm down, okay? I'm fine, so that's the better part of the deal, yeah?"

"Yeah, but we don't know when he'll decide to change his mind and come back." A long, pregnant silence followed afterwards. I waited, having nothing else left to say. "Okay, did he, like, mention anything to you?"

"Like what?"

"Anything, like why he left you unscathed, after all that shit he pulled."

I debated upon telling him about Edward's long ass note, but decided against it. It wasn't going to help, and I didn't want Jake knowing about my sexcapades.

"I just woke up in my bedroom in the morning, and he was gone. I don't know what his motivations were for leaving me alive." It was a tactful answer, I believe.

"Hmm… you invited him over to your place?"

"Are you fucking crazy? Who invites such… men over?"

"I don't know, Bella, but they have certain charms, ya know?" he responded, making me cringe with the reality of his words. "They are made that way, to lure their victims into their web."

"Well, that works on unsuspecting victims," I retorted defensively. "I knew what he was, that's why I texted you."

"Your smell was undoubtedly fused with his…" He left it at that, and I swear I heard a shoe drop somewhere.

"We had to dance at the club, for the competition. He made me do it. And I didn't refuse, because I was buying time."

Our conversation grew strained afterwards, so I cut off, with clinical precision of course. "Listen, I have a lot of work to catch up on. I'll let you know if anything fishy happens. And you keep me posted as well, just to be on the safe side. Okay?"

"Okay, we're not leaving the hunt. I'm on constant alert now. We'll not rest until we dismember him and set him alight. You take care of yourself."

Closing my phone, I sat back in my chair, breathing deeply. I was surprised to see how tense I was during that whole conversation. And if I was being honest with myself, it had nothing to do with my discomfort regarding Jacob or our past.

Let me know how you have liked the continuation. Response always makes me a better author. :)