Thanks for the reviews guys! Haha I love cliff hangers, aren't they great? ;) Hope you enjoy this next chapter and I will sure keep on writing!

Ten

Phill and Taro

It wasn't until Wednesday afternoon that I noticed that Jenn and Kim had once more became Jim and Kenn.

"Wasn't Tuesday Twin Day yesterday?" I asked suspiciously, noticing how the two had dressed alike.

Apparently this was the wrong thing to say. They leaped across the lunch table in a frenzy and covered my mouth. Wide eyed I looked at them in amazement. Kirby and Mariah hauled them back.

"Shh!" Jenn said. "Don't let the whole school know!"

"Yeah." Added Kim. "Just watch and see what happens . . ."

I sat back in confusion, shrugged and stabbed at my food. I had recovered well from yesterday's antics, although it proved to be a good subject for school gossip. I couldn't walk down the halls of Forks High without some sort of stare or whisper following me. Part of me hated Dante for what he had done, yet I knew I still needed to talk to him. After I got other thoughts off my mind last night, about Carlisle and the question of adoption, I thought again about what happened that day. The girl is mine . . . he said. Whoever "he" was. Was he after me? All I ever wanted was to be left alone and now it felt like the world was literally out to get me. One thing was for sure though – he wasn't from Child Services.

"So why were you in a broom closet again?" Mariah asked, looking up at me from her tray of salad and a pound of ranch.

I shrugged and glared offhandedly over in the corner where Dante sat; anxious it seemed, with a tray of untouched food.

"He shoved me in there."

"You know," Kirby said. "Part of me wants to think of that as a steamy-closet-moment but . . ."

"With the whole intruder thing that went on," Jenn added, with a shrug.

"It just doesn't work." Kim finished, looking somewhat disappointed. "We're glad you're okay though. You looked really . . . bad . . ."

Yes, I was used to them completing sentences together.

I felt something cold suddenly drench against my back and I jumped with a scream, my mind flicking back to the shadows in the broom closet. When I looked behind me, I glared at the boy that had dumped a cup of ice water on my back.

"Get those bleach stains out, Brie?" he laughed.

I gritted my teeth and was rising, blood rushing to my face as the cafeteria sprang into laughter. My friends behind her were telling to calm down. I sighed, gripped the table and sat back down, concentrating hard on my picked through meal.

One . . . Two . . .

"What's a matter new girl; can't defend yourself? To afraid of the dark?"

I whipped around, unable to stop myself, knowing already that Carlisle was going to get a note home that I beat up a Forks High student and was expected to stay after school until six for the next two weeks . . . but I never got the chance to experience that pleasure. The cafeteria hushed and I looked to my side to see Dante standing coolly, a dangerous calm spread on his face. His bright, amber eyes were focused on the boy with the empty Styrofoam cup.

"You'd better not be picking on August, Greg."

"Oh, whatch' you going to do about it, Dante?" Though he acted tough, I didn't miss the minor squeak in his voice.

Dante didn't say a word as he strode forward, his gaze piercing and angry. He stopped a foot away from Greg, who I could see now was shaking a little.

"What was that?" Dante snarled.

Greg clenched his fist. "What? Does the ever so untouchable Dante have a crush? Going to save your lady?"

I wanted to make a smart comment but I didn't have a chance to get between them. I looked behind me and my friends looked about as stunned as I did.

"Perhaps he does." Growled Dante again, coming closer, making Greg take a step back. "And perhaps he will pulverize you if you ever touch her again . . ."

Greg took another involuntary step back and slipped in the water that had missed me, landing with a wince-worthy "thud" as he landed hard on the tile. Dante stood up straight, looking pleased with himself and then turned to me. I was about to speak when he reached out and grabbed my arm tightly.

"Come on; let's go get you cleaned up."

"It was just water!" I protested. I still wanted to give Greg a piece of my mind and Dante the Super Creep was getting in my way. "You realize the last time you held me this tight you gave me bruises . . ."

He slackened his grip but quickened his pace, giving me no time to even looking at my friends before we turned the corner.

"Just come on, August."

"That's another thing," I said, panting to keep up with his stride. "When did we stop being on a first name basis?"

"When you started making my life difficult."

"When I started making your life difficult? Excuse me?" when he just tugged me along, I dug my heels into the ground. "Hey! I have questions for you, you know!"

He sighed and swept me up into his arms until we reached the girls bathroom. He set me down on the floor and gave a light nudge inside and that was when I stopped my bantering.

The girl in the mirror stared back at me, wide eyed, dark, stray curls hanging down in front of her dark blue eyes. But there was something more out of place. My jaw slowly hung down as I reached up to touch the hair that hung over my shoulder.

It was growing redder and redder by the second. I finally looked from the mirror and at the strands in my fingers. Dante poked his head in, a fake smile on his face.

"I was pretty sure," he said evenly. "That you didn't want anyone to see the fiery red head you are underneath."

And with that he closed the door.

I came out much more subdued about ten minutes later. The bell would be ringing soon, but as of now, the hall we were in was still clear. He was standing idly by the water fountain, picking at his nails. I stared at him a long time, trying to find the right thing to say. Either he didn't know I had come out or he was craftily ignoring me.

"Um, thanks." I said. Oh boy was that original . . .

He shrugged, holding his fingers out to examine them.

"I don't really know why my hair does that . . . I mean, it doesn't weird you out, does it? I'm sure there's some bizarre scientific explanation for it but – "

"Give it up, August." He muttered, finally turning his eyes onto me. "You and I both know you aren't human."

I stopped, started and stopped again. He gave me a sideways look. I reverted to elementary tactics.

"Well then, what does that make you?"

His eyes hardened and he pushed himself up from the wall. He towered over me but unlike Greg in the cafeteria, I hardly felt intimidated by his height. His face wasn't the scary calm from before, but it sure was unreadable.

"If you can't figure it out, August, then you certainly shouldn't know."

The bell rang and students were starting to trickle down the hallway. He held my gaze for half a second longer and then walked past me. I grumbled to myself at his retreating back. I still had questions for him and he certainly wasn't going to get out that easy . . . I was starting to cling to my idea that he was on drugs. Who went around to people telling them they weren't human? It was such a ridiculous notion . . . But then there was the fact that I was constantly plagued by shadow creatures and things that went bump in the night. I had dealt with it for so long that the lines that were supposed to separate childhood fear and what was supposed to be reality blurred . . .

His voice echoed through my head again.

You and I both know you aren't human.

What if he was right? I shook my head.

And then, to top it all off, it was hard to figure out if I was mad at him or grateful. Once it seemed he saved my life by shoving me in a broom closet; but it was if he knew what was going to happen. And then today he saved me from having to freak out the cafeteria with my changing hair . . . which made me wonder, why had it changed today anyway? It didn't do that unless I was around my shadowy company . . .

The cold water. The cold water had made me think about the shadows and my hair had started to turn. I looked down at my dark strands again, now completely back to normal. What if the color change was some sort of defense mechanism? I twisted the strands around in my fingers until I was tugged along by Jenn.

"C'mon you're going to be late!" she said, throwing my bag into my hands.

I shook my head and plodded after her.

* * *

I loved English for several reasons (none of which included my grand expertise on the language.)

All of my friends were together in one class, squished into the middle of the room.

The entire class was really friendly. And they all liked to play pranks on each other; including the teacher.

The teacher was incredibly clever at getting back at the students.

I don't think I have yet to pick up a pencil in that class, and yet still, somehow, I got a lot out of it.

She fed us.

Miss Fairchilde liked our class; enough to feed us sugar before turning us loose onto the next period. Everyone liked her in turn and cooperated when she wanted to get a project done; I couldn't say the same for all my classes. Even I was willing to do a little homework for her. Today was another easy day; the beginning was a quick lecture; bring in a poem, stand like an idiot in front of the class, and dramatize it best you could. You got bonus points for doing a British accent and wearing tights.

Oddly enough, the guys were the most excited.

"We should all meet down at the diner." Jenn was saying. "I'm craving their fries, like, a lot. And then we sort through poems and stuff."

"Miss Fairchilde, can we write our own?" Kim asked, abruptly excited.

She looked up from her book with a smirk and nodded and then looked over one of the guys who suddenly seemed to take interest in this.

"Mathew, let's try and leave Chuck Norris out of it for a change, eh?"

He groaned and slouched back against the heater vent.

I laughed as Kim drug out a notebook and pen and began scribbling.

"So are you going to come with us, Brie?" Jenn asked. "Cause you totally should, it would be awesome! We've got a bunch poems to sort through; I still have mine way back from middle school. Or you could write your own!"

"Ha! No way . . ." I chuckled but nodded. "Yeah I guess I'll come."

Carlisle had been trying to get me to get out more and socialize. I didn't see why I couldn't be with Alice or Bella but I guess that was the whole "Brie isn't officially adopted yet" factor creeping in. I was still wondering how to bring that up, as a casual conversation.

"Great!" Kirby said. "You can ride with me!"

"Um, thanks!" I said.

I couldn't imagine what a study session (if that's what they would call it) with the posse would be like.

Suddenly Miss Fairchilde's chair squeaked and we all looked up. She was standing rather confusedly, staring at the class as though something greatly distressed her. I blinked slowly as the posse started to snicker behind their hands, turning their back to the teacher. I raised an eyebrow and Jenn and Kim as the rest of the class hid smiles behind their hands. Then a thought struck me and I hesitated in my text to Alice to say I was hanging out with posse after school.

I hadn't been here yesterday; after my not-so-steamy-closet-moment with Dante, I had spent the rest of the day with the Cullen's. I hadn't been to English. Everything was slowly coming together.

"I assigned this yesterday . . . on Tuesday . . . Didn't I?" Miss Fairchilde asked, smiling with a shake of her head. Her eyes landed on Jenn and Kim, who were currently Kenn and Jim. "Alright girls, you got me and about half the staff. Today is Wednesday, isn't it? I gave the same lecture twice?"

Both of them smiled in unison. They did a lot of things in unison.

"Well done, class, well rehearsed, so I assume that since you went through the trouble to convince me that is, in fact, Tuesday, you will all be showing up on Saturday, since it is technically a Friday for yours truly?"

There was silence for a long time where all of us stared intently back at Miss Fairchilde and she stared at us, unblinking. I've heard stories where classes had come in on weekends . . . but I had never heard either way about whether or not it was a good experience. Sometimes it was hard to tell if she was kidding us or not.

"You're not serious, Miss F?" Mathew finally spoke up. All of us blinked in a pathetic haze. "You . . .wouldn't have us come in on a . . . Saturday?"

Finally, she sighed and smirked.

"Touchè, Mathew."

"To-what?"

She laughed and threw a mini snickers at him from the bag under her desk.

"Just show up with a poem tomorrow, okay?"

* * *

"Ugh!" Mariah growled, turning sharply. I hit the window as my bag pressed against me. "Why is there no place to park?"

"I don't know, is something going on?" Kirby asked, peering out the window.

I looked to my left and saw Jenn and Kim waving us down. We had to circle around a block for the fifth time.

"Over there, by the auto shop." I said.

Both their heads turned and Mariah turned the car into a free parking space behind Jenn's car. When we got out, they began talking about the walk over to the diner. Kim was freezing. Jenn made fun of her. Pulling my jacket closer around me, I looked around. The streets seemed really packed . . . I didn't like really packed.

"I wonder what's going on?" Kirby asked. "It's the middle of the week . . ."

"Something going on at school?" Kim suggested.

"I don't think so."

"Well let's get going, hopefully the diner's not packed. I want a milkshake."

We began walking, pushing our little pack through the wandering people, when I suddenly stopped and turned. A whiff of something tugged at my memory, like a particular scent of perfume might. I turned just as a by-passer rammed into me.

"Hey!"

"Excuse you," I grumbled.

I wormed my through the crowd. Having never actually walked the streets of Forks before, I hesitated briefly at the thought of being lost but seriously, how hard could it be? If I couldn't find them again, I could at least find the car.

I followed the scent like a dog might, on the air . . . I ended up at the attached garage that connected to the auto shop and stopped. My mind suddenly felt foggy and I had a brief instance of "Brie what the hell are you doing?" before the garage door opened and the heavy scent of gas and grease caught me full steam. A car engine started and I jumped back in surprise a red hunk of metal started rolling towards me, then came a halt and died.

"Hey! Get out of the way, shops open for customers up front!"
A big man called out to me. For some reason I was frozen where I stood, my eyes looking for someone that I wasn't sure of. I looked up when I noticed someone was walking towards me; a big, heavy man in stained overalls and a sour look on his face. "Hey! You trying to commit suicide or something? My guys need to get this car out of the garage; now move it!"

Even though I understood every word he said, it was like I was drawn towards that scent. He smelled like gas and grease but it was different, it wasn't quite the same one I had been following. But it was still there, I could smell it . . .

"Hey! You deaf or something?"

I started to respond to him when someone else beat me to the punch.

"Ah leave her alone, Teddy, she's lookin' for me."

I looked over who I presumed was Teddy's shoulder and the big mechanic turned around. A ragged, average height woman stood, leaning against the open door way with a black, grease rag slung over her shoulder. She had a narrow waist and small chest and from here I could see she had a cunning, fox like smile, but her body was well muscled. Her dark red hair was boy cut, though her bangs were longer, slicked to the side in a neat, dark tip.

I caught my breath as I spied a black symbol tattooed on the side of her neck. She was the woman in my dream. She grinned at me again and pushed herself up from the building.

"A friend of yours, Phill?" Teddy asked backing up and crossing his arms over his broad chest.

"You could say that." she said vaguely, her voice thick and rough. "I take in all sorts of . . . strays."

Her words hit me as I looked into her eyes. Right now they were a stormy gray, but I swore I saw that same iridescent glint in them. I swallowed, looking at her apprehensively.

"Well, get your chit chat over with, my guys want to take this baby out and test drive her."

"That hunk a metal can wait." the woman spat. Who named their girl "Phil" anyway? "Besides, your men seem to lack initiative unless I'm around."

"Ah . . ." Teddy seem to consider this. "Of course its a woman that has to be one of my best men . . .Only in Forks. Alright Phill, get in and get out. I need a pair of nimble hands out here."

"Of course, chief."

"Brie!" I turned to see Jennifer motioning for me to come along. "You coming or what? The diner's around the corner and – "

"I'll meet you in a second." I called back. "Save me a seat."

She gave me an odd look but shrugged and jogged back around the corner. Phil had walked up to me now and I could see from her smile that she knew who I was, which was particularly creepy in this situation.

"Took you long enough." she said. "Follow me."

Not entirely sure if I was dreaming by this point or not, I followed her into the garage shop, the heavy smell of oil and gas taking over my senses. The smell that had caught my attention was coming from her; I was sure of it. It was the same scent that I had caught in my dream. She led me into a back room where she discarded the rag into a pile and pounded on a weak, plastic door.

"Who's it?" came an irritated, but smooth voice from behind it.

"Yours truly!" she replied in mock sweetness.

Suddenly the lock rattled and the door flew open.

"Philly? Wha- Oh my . . ."

I gasped again as I suddenly saw the man from dreams; silvery hair even though he looked very young. Parts of it seemed dyed blue, not shimmering as it had been in my dream. A tattoo was on the side of his neck too and when he stood up, his ugly pin stripe was wrinkled and faded. He beamed at me and then rushed at me and enveloped me into a huge hug.

"We found you!" he exclaimed.

"Yeah. . . okay, Taro, the girl hasn't had a thing explained to her yet and judging by the look on her face, I think she'd really appreciate it if you put her down."

The man swept me in one more circle before placing me back down in front of Phil. Breathing heavy, I stepped back and took them both in with fearful eyes.

"Taro, Brielle. Brielle, Taro." Phil mentioned with a quick hand gesture. "And I'm Phil."

All I could think to say was, "Phil?"

She turned back around to face me with a wry smile. "My name's Philadelphia, but seriously, who names their kid after a city? So call me Phill; and that's with two l's."

"She thinks the extra "l" makes it feminine." Taro whispered to me. Phill shot him a glare.

"Okay," I said, officially starting get freaked out by the scenario. I had been chased by shadows and other dark things but this was the first time I've actually had my dreams come out in the daytime to talk to me. "I think . . . I think . . . I need to leave."

It was wrong following her in here. I didn't know this person . . . I must have just seen her on the street and my mind just inserted her in my dreams . . .

"No." Phill said, suddenly very stern. Her eyes locked on mine and the hair on the back of my neck stood on end. "No; I lost track of you once, you are not getting away from me again. You belong with me, and with Taro. You are no longer a stray; you are home."

I stared at her for a long time. Taro had put a narrow hand on her shoulder, trying to get her to calm down. She seemed upset with my desire to leave. When I remembered to breathe again, I looked away with a shudder. Her gaze was gripping and harsh . . . it made me feel like prey. My phone vibrated in my pocket and I fingered it, but didn't pick it up.

"How do you know me?" I finally whispered.

"I'll explain. . . when you come with us." Phill made a grab for my arm but I jumped back.

"No way! What . . . I mean . . . seriously? I don't even know who you are!"

Phill grumbled. "I'm Phill, and he's Taro, now don't make this more difficult than it has to be, you're in terrible danger!"

"I'd say!" looking at her wildly.

Taro intervened then and stepped between us. He pushed Phill back a little and turned his eyes on me. I felt calmer, but still wanted to run away again. My phone vibrated once more.

"You can't escape us, Brielle. We will keep calling for you until you answer."

"You aren't seriously going to let her go, Taro?"

He ignored Phill, keeping his eyes on me. "It won't matter what you want to do or think you want to do, you need us. We appear in your dreams for a reason."

"What?" I muttered, feeling a nervous sweat start on my forehead.

"Taro!" Phill hissed again. My phone continued to vibrate.

"We can't force her, Phill." he said calmly. "She'll come to us, when the shadows get to thick, when she fears for her very life, or when we simply must step in. We know where she is now, we have her scent, and we know who she is with."

"Yeah, but she doesn't . . ." muttered Phill. She turned her bright eyes to me. "Fine, Brielle, I get it. You're scared. I don't blame you, but you need to know more about that bloodsucking family you're living with."

"Easy, Philly, no need to scare her more . . ." Taro warned.

"Blood . . .sucking?" I stuttered

Phill just stared at me, as if I should get it. Taro stepped in front of her again, handing me a business card. He flipped it over to show me a number written on the back.

"We are harbingers, Brielle. Call this number should you ever need me or Phill." I took it with numb fingers and took a step back. "Remember; when the shadows get to thick . . . we can help you. Eventually, we can teach you."

"I don't know what you're talking about . . ." I muttered in a low voice.

"Of course you don't." spat Phill, walking over to pick up a new rag. "Don't you have a study session or something to go to?"

I gave her a funny look. I hadn't said anything about the group I was going to join.

"Go on," Taro said. "Your time will come."

I looked at them each in turn and then turned and ran, the smell of oil and gas slowly leaving me. When I got out into the crowded street, I could feel my heart hammering in my chest and I started to shake. They were so familiar, I actually felt drawn to them. Why did this scare me? Who were they?

We are harbingers, Taro had said.

What did that mean? Harbingers of what?

I jumped when my pocket vibrated again and I felt like was suddenly thrust back into reality. When I pulled my phone out, the caller ID said it was Jasper. I sighed and opened the phone.

"Jasper, I'm fine . . ."

"Sorry, Brie, just checking." there was a pause. "Why do you sound scared?"

I swallowed and tried to strengthen my voice. "I'm not Jazz, promise."

"Alice said you were spending time with some friends. You'll call if you need anything?"

"Of course," I said, with a little laugh. "Cell phone's charged and everything."

"Right . . ." Jasper said with a little sigh. "Alright. I'll see you tonight then."

"Yeah, see ya Jasper."

I flipped the phone shut and took a deep, cold breath. Poetry was certainly the last thing on my mind now and I had a great desire to suddenly return to the Cullen house. But I bit my lip and ran my fingers along the smooth surface of the business card.

The shadows.

I closed my eyes and tried not think about what had just happened. It was too much of a coincidence. So I started ahead once more, trying not to focus on Phill and Taro. Dante's voice entered my mind again . . . I wasn't human. I felt like I was suddenly a beaming, bright light in a mass of normalcy. I didn't like it; I didn't want to be seen this way. I had long ago deduced I was freak because of my hair but now . . .

I looked down at my hands, as if expecting them to change into animal claws or sprout feathers. Now I knew I was different, my mind wouldn't let me simply drop that fact anymore. Angrily I clenched my hands together and turned the corner, seeing the posse in the diner window as soon as I did. They were laughing, being their normal goofy selves.

Shaking my head, I looked to the sky and once more, I knew I was back at square one.

I didn't belong.

With a sigh, I slipped my phone back out and found Alice's number, ready to head back to the Cullen house.