Mitchell arrived just after eleven to pick up George and Annie. This interesting scenario occurred another night, seemingly under Charlie's nose. From what George had said, it was just me and Annie tomorrow. He was going to do something with the rest of the Cullens, although he shrugged enigmatically when I asked what.

I liked George, and if he was translating her words properly, Annie too. I'd never met anyone from Britain before, and they seemed different to the stereotypes. George was geeky but seemed like a nice guy. But he'd been…different tonight. He'd been more active, more alert.

When Edward took me to school, I came and asked him what was going on. There had been something building for the last few days. I knew Mitchell was here for something but I wasn't too sure.

"It's nothing, really. Mitchell's been more involved in…our world than we have. He's been giving us news."

"You're lying to me," I said, resentfully. "And George?"

"What about him?"

"He's with you tonight. What news can he give you?"

"What night is it, tonight?" he asked, impatiently. Seeing me shrug, he continued, "It's a full moon. George needs to transform safely. We're going to give him space in the woods."

"That's all?"

"That's all."

I let it drop. I fell silent, staring out of the window at the road around us.


Mitchell shivered as he crossed the street to the dark figure standing at the crossing. It was a cold, windy night in Oconto Falls, Wisconsin. The small town was far enough away from Green Bay to count as the middle of nowhere, but large enough to not be a one horse town.

But it was cold. Herrick had told him that the state was on the Great Lakes, and on the border of Canada. He'd felt the wind as soon as he'd touched down. The town was pleasant enough, and the few locals he'd shared a conversation with said the 1960s had turned the whole place upside down.

"Hello, Mitchell," said the figure as he approached the crossing. A shark's smile was flashed, and the words were full of scorn and hidden contempt. Herrick's pet stood in the mist of the evening, regarding him as one would a slug.

"Seth."

"Our friends are in place. They want to play with us? We'll show them."

"All ready, then?"

An ugly smile, mixed with a sneer. "Always ready, Mitchell. I know it and Herrick knows it. Don't know about you!"

"I'm not here for a pissing contest," Mitchell replied coldly. "Where's Rosalie?"

"Should be coming down this way in juust a few minutes. She's heading home."

Mitchell snapped out of his vision as he stared out of the window onto the woods. He spun around, sweat trickling down his forehead. He heard George in the other rooms, talking to Alice in a low voice. He could tell that he was close to transforming by the tone of his voice, and it unnerved him.

Rosalie Cullen walked by briefly. She took a single look at Mitchell, and walked by without a word.

"Rosalie?" he called out, softly.

A head appeared, with eyes narrowed. "What?"

"I never apologised. To you, I mean. I was a different person then."

"I know," she replied softly. "You've shown that, I guess. I would have never let you into the house, but…"

She trailed off. Mitchell nodded, offering a faint smile. Slowly, she continued. "If we can get Victoria tonight, I guess that puts us even."

Mitchell saw George outside. He was bare chested, ready for transformation. The sight of him unnerved Mitchell.

"George, you really don't have to do this," he said, desperately. "My problem. I don't want you to…kill again."

"We've got this far. Come on! Twice won't hurt me." George's voice was scared, and his features strained. This was the last thing he wanted to do, and Mitchell imagined that another spell of bad dreams would do him permanent damage.

"You hate your condition!"

Carlisle and Esme spoke briefly, and Carlisle stepped forward. "Alice, drive George down to the warehouse on 4th and Nehalem. Lock the doors."

"What's going on?" George said, a ferocious quality to his voice. His eyes were looking less human now.

"Quickly!"

They both got into the car, Alice driving away at speed. Mitchell, Rosalie, Edward and Jasper looked at Carlisle. Mitchell looked relieved, the others puzzled.

"He's killed once. You don't have to read minds to see he isn't ready to do so again."

"But we haven't caught Victoria," said Mitchell.

"That doesn't matter," said Esme. "You've changed. We just saw that. That's all we needed to know."

"Let's get after them," said Jasper. "Make sure nothing goes wrong."


"What's death like?" I asked, handing back the notebook that had been scrawled on all night. I felt a brief shiver as the pen became animated, writing something on a fresh page. There was just one sentence on it.

"Men with sticks and rope?" I asked, the sentence chilling me even more. "What does that mean?"

I wish I knew was the written response. Below it was written, Hey, do you have a video camera?

"Sure, why?"

We can be caught on film. Heard as well.

Excited, I searched around in my bedroom and found a Handycam Charlie had gotten me for Christmas last year. I switched it on and scanned around the room. When I saw the girl sitting on a beanbag, I cried out. She was mixed race, tall and pretty. I don't know what I expected for Annie, but this wasn't it.

She smiled and waved. "Can't believe I've been here three nights and I never remembered this."

"Wow," I said shortly. "Not sure what I was expecting."

"I know, right? Well, at least you haven't freaked out. That's what most people do. When I'm visible, all's good, but when I'm invisible and I move stuff around? It's all like, Aaagh! And Eurgghhh!" She raised her hands and made a face, then laughed.

"That must be interesting. Being a…ghost."

Annie nodded. "There's not a lot I can't do. Except…well, you know, eat, drink, sleep…"

"Nothing too serious, then?" I asked, grinning.

Carlisle headed out to the car, lifting his suitcase effortlessly. He paused briefly to look around, and then loaded it into the car. The Buick was in front, ready to be returned before everyone bundled into Carlisle's car for the final trip. George sat in the back, Annie in the passenger seat.

"So you're going straight to Italy?" said Mitchell, opening the door for him. "Thanks, Carlisle. I really appreciate it. But…"

"But why?" Carlisle smiled. "Our kind needs help. We need to move away from the old ways. Killing. Hunting humans. Violence. Our kind are…well, some are coming around. But your kind can't survive like we can, it's all or nothing. And some are finding it hard to break the habit."

"It's pretty much unheard of."

"Now, we've realised that you're different. You have a wolf as a friend. You're not part of Herrick's coven anymore."

"Neither's Herrick," said Mitchell, smiling.

"But, yeah. Seeing you and George last night brought it home. There'll be plenty of time to hunt Victoria on our own time."

"Okay," said Mitchell. "Thanks. And, hey, if you ever need anything from us in return…" He took a scrap of paper from his leather jacket and wrote an address on it. "That's our address in Bristol."

"Thanks."

Alice waved from the door. "Be careful now! You know what they say about dogs and hot cars!"

"That is racist!" said George indignantly, but he grinned.

"Bye!" said Esme, who stood at the door as well. Gradually, the rest of the Cullens came out and waved the two cars off.

The End! Hope you enjoyed!