A/N: Hello, lovelies! Sorry for the late post. If it makes you feel better, I posted before I finished my homework that's due in two hours… See? I have priorities straight. Disneyland. Fanfic. Homework. Anyone would make that choice, right?

~Edward~

Edward looked around at his family—gathered around the dinner table that would never see dinner—and began his plea. He looked to his father. "I know you were loathe to get involved before, but this is different, is it not?"

His mouth set in a tight line, Carlisle nodded. "It is. You know very well it wasn't that I wanted harm to come to Bella. We had nothing to go on, and Jasper is dangerous." He cocked his head, and Edward could hear his thoughts as he considered, for the millionth time, the situation. "Now, however, we have something of an advantage—something to go on rather than running into him when we're not prepared. If he's skirting the edge of our territory, perhaps something can be done. Some sort of trap?"

"You think he won't pick up on the fact he's being hunted?" Rosalie asked.

"We'll be careful about it, babe," Emmett said. "We can't let this guy continue to creep around, right? If he does get to Bella again, that really is our fault." He smirked. "Plus, I have this weird feeling Edward would be inconsolable if something happened to her." He reached out to ruffle Edward's hair.

Edward ducked away from Emmett. He was too angry to be playful. He needed his family on board with this. "He's a threat we need to neutralize. I just need to know if you're with me or not."

Esme leaned forward, her face pinched. "I can't say I like it." She took a deep breath—a habit of hers even though she didn't need to. "But I don't have to like it. If he's stalking this territory, he's dangerous to us. And the idea he could get his hands on Bella again, after what he's already done to her…" She shuddered.

"But you need to promise me something, Edward." Carlisle leaned across the table. "You need to be smart about this. We need information to make the right choices, and you're in the best position to get that information."

"But I'm also the biggest hothead?" Edward said, reading his thoughts.

His father's lip twitched. "Well. I didn't say it." His expression gentled. "I don't need to be a mind reader to know how you feel about Jasper, Edward. Our rage is potent when we're provoked. It makes us blind. I don't want to see it kill you."

"I'll be careful."

~Jasper~

The nice thing about being immortal was that it gave one a lot of patience. There was no need for impatience, after all. He wasn't getting any younger, nor was he getting any older.

So the girl, wittingly or otherwise, had surrounded herself with supernatural beings. There were the shapeshifters to the North. Wasn't that an interesting twist? And then there was that strange coven.

If Bella wasn't aware of them, they were aware of her and, by extension, aware of him. He'd caught the scent of all of them, but particularly the strange one; the youngest one. Jasper knew a perimeter when he saw one—or smelled one, in this case. The Cullens, or at least the young one, was guarding Bella.

Very interesting.

The shapeshifters and the vampires weren't friends; Jasper could tell that by how distinct their territories were. The one didn't cross over into the other. Except for one space, right on the line of their territories. A meeting had taken place there, and recently. It was no surprise that after that discovery, the shapeshifters' territory got much more well defined. They were patrolling.

Very interesting indeed.

Jasper was many things, but suicidal wasn't one of them. With a little strategy, he might be able to defeat the five members of the Cullen coven, but even that was a long shot. With the shapeshifters, he didn't stand a chance.

The nice thing about humans was that they were impatient. Their lives were finite, so they couldn't afford to wait. The tiny town of Forks couldn't contain a woman like Bella Swan forever. So it was a matter of waiting her out.

Again, it proved advantageous to be a vampire. Jasper could afford to be tireless. He took many trips between Forks and Seattle, testing for holes in their defenses.

On a hunch, Jasper spent a good few weeks finding the little girl Bella had been so protective over the day they met. Cynthia. Humans could be trusted to be nostalgic, especially about children. He would bet Bella would want to see the girl sooner rather than later.

His theory proved right.

He passed by the little girl's house and heard her chattering excitedly inside. "Do you think Bella will stay? Can she be my babysitter again?"

Cynthia's mother sighed. "Come here, lovely. Let's talk for a minute."

There was a rustle as the little girl went to her mother. Then, the woman spoke again. "Do you remember the last time we went to see Aunt Alice?"

"In the special hospital?"

"Yeah. Remember she was a little different because some very bad people did some very bad things to her?"

"She talked funny. Like it didn't make sense sometimes," Cynthia said, sounding sad.

"Yes. Exactly. Bella isn't like Aunt Alice, but a bad person did a very bad thing to her. Sometimes, when bad things happen to good people, it hurts them in their mind instead of on their bodies. And that hurt makes them a little different. Bella is working very hard to get better, but she's not better enough to take care of you yet. Her job is to get better. Do you understand?"

Jasper could feel the sorrow pouring off the little girl. In his mind's eye, he replayed his time with Bella.

It wasn't untrue—what Cynthia's mother was saying. Jasper had never denied he'd done a bad thing. He'd done many bad things. He did recognize what he was by human standards.

The problem was that humans lacked perspective. Yes, he understood the humans he'd killed suffered. That was most of the point. Their suffering was part of the price he inflicted on himself. He felt their pain—felt the soul-rending agony along with every single one of his victims.

And it was such a temporary pain. Two weeks was nothing even in a human lifespan. In his defense, he'd never intended to let any of them live to suffer the lasting repercussions of having their psyche so thoroughly dissected. They suffered, gave him their secrets, themselves, and they rested. Most people would be forgotten in a few generations. His victims would be remembered in painstaking detail for all of his immortal life.

Bella was an anomaly, but anyway, they weren't giving her enough credit. She was strong, and now he had an opportunity to show her he meant her no harm. Not anymore.

"Mom?" Cynthia's voice was shaky, her emotions sad and worried.

"Yes?"

"Is Bella going to disappear like Aunt Alice?"

Her mother sighed. "I don't think so. Sometimes, baby, more than one bad thing happens to the same person."

"That's not fair."

"No. That's not fair at all."

Humans were so strange. Fairness was a completely fictional idea. The natural world had never been fair and would never be fair. For inventing the concept, human history had never been fair either. From birth to old age, no person nor animal was exempt from suffering.

Yet, humans continued to moan as though the lack of fairness in the world was a bad thing. It was neither bad nor good; it was what it was. It struck Jasper as rather melodramatic to act as though the world should be something else. Rather like whining that the sky wasn't green.

How would the humans like it if vampires—higher on the food chain by any stretch of the imagination—kept them in pens specifically to be slaughtered and fed from? Yet he knew from the smell of their blood Cynthia and her mother both ate meat. Perhaps they should talk to the cows and chickens about fairness.

Was it fair that he could feel everything his prey felt? He was a living—such as it was—being, after all. His hunger could only be slaked by one thing: blood. That wasn't his fault. He shouldn't have to feel guilty for taking what he needed any more than the humans should feel guilty for needing protein.

Jasper was struck, then, by a wave of longing. Since he'd gotten it into his head that Bella would make a good vampire, he had longed for the future he could see within his grasp. What good was being a philosopher without someone to discuss with?

While not ideal for a friendly connection, Jasper's methods had that as an unexpected side-effect. He'd learned about Bella—who she truly was—and so an attraction had sparked for him. It wouldn't have been possible if he hadn't done what he'd done.

She was smart and strong. She would see things his way once she had a chance to overcome her understandable fear of him. She was, after all, human for the time being. He understood how fragile human minds were, even strong ones like Bella's. He would have to take things very slowly.

Well. He had nothing but time, and he'd done nothing these last few months besides prepare scenario after scenario. He was ready to begin.

~Bella~

She had to stop five times on the drive up to Seattle, too shaky to drive.

It wasn't that she thought Forks was safer. It was just that one could only jump at the same shadows so many times. She was used to the trees in Forks, the alleys. The four hour drive to Seattle? She wasn't used to any of it.

Was it a blessing or a curse that the low speed limit on the highway let her take in too much scenery? She could see so much of the landscape, and as her mind was well aware, Jasper—or some other monster—could be anywhere, she wanted to look everywhere at once. It was exhausting and terrifying.

Bella pulled over for the fifth time in a residential area near downtown Seattle. She rested her head against the steering wheel, trying to take a deep breath.

Why, why, why the fuck was she so stubborn? Cynthia had called, and for once, Bella answered the phone. The little girl had been so sweet when she begged Bella to come see her. How could she refuse?

Charlie had wanted to take the day and drive up, but Bella had refused his help. Partly, she wanted to believe she wasn't the total wreck she was. Mostly, though, she wanted to give Charlie a break. Her father spent all day worrying about her and came home to tend to her every night, even if it meant he was just in the house while she hid upstairs. He'd had a girlfriend before all this started. Bella didn't even know if that was true anymore.

So she'd made it up there alone, and now she would have to go back alone, because the idea of staying somewhere else wasn't an option. First of all, she was going to have nightmares tonight. That was a simple fact when she'd been under so much stress. Secondly, just thinking about the situation was giving her anxiety, forget about actually doing it.

Which was yet another reason why she should have let her dad drive her here. Or hell, maybe Edward would have been willing to do it. Either way, if she was driving, she had to be all the way lucid. No anti-anxiety meds for her. They made her too dizzy and the others made her loopy and tired.

Wiping away the excess tears, Bella started the truck again.

It went better than she'd expected. Bella had prepared herself—as much as one could prepare—for total disaster. She wasn't the same person Cynthia knew. But there was a reason Bella preferred children to adults. They were adaptable. Plus, she found she could accept a hug from Cynthia. She clung to Bella, squeezing as tightly as her tiny-girl arms allowed her to. It felt so good to be hugged that Bella almost cried.

Cynthia asked her a few basic questions about how bad her head was hurt. Bella told her a few of the tamer things she dealt with every day, and Cynthia said that knowing someone had hurt Bella hurt her heart.

And that was it. Cynthia had played with her as though nothing else had happened. She rattled on about some of the things Bella had missed, showed off her new toys, and instigated a game of Hungry, Hungry Hippos that her mother had gotten at a yard sale. She was patient when Bella stuttered and was quick to hug her when she flinched.

Other than when she was with Edward, it was the most relaxed Bella had been in months. Not that relaxed meant much to Bella yet. She was still tense, just not as tense as usual. At least Cynthia was okay with staying inside. Bella kept glancing at the woods that lined one whole side of the neighborhood.

They'd only been hanging out for a couple of hours when Mrs. Brandon came back from taking a phone call. She had that look in her eyes. That Mommy's-about-to-break-hearts look. "I'm sorry, kiddos. That was work. There's an emergency, and I really need to go in." She looked at Bella. "I need to leave now if I'm going to get Cynthia to my friend who agreed to watch her."

"No, Mommy," Cynthia whined. "Bella just got here."

"I know, honey. I really tried not to go in."

"But Bella can take care of me. She's okay, see?" Cynthia tugged on Bella's hand. "Tell Mommy your brain is okay today."

Bella winced. "Oh, sweetheart. If you want to know the truth, I'm really, really tired."

Cynthia brightened. "We can take a nap."

"Cynthia Alice," her mother said sternly. "Bella needs to go home. Remember what we talked about."

Cynthia looked sad. When Bella knelt beside her, she kissed her head. "Do you think enough kisses can make it better?"

Bella sighed, her heart twisting. "I really wish it worked that way."

As they all got ready to leave, Bella tried every coping mechanism she knew to calm down and mentally prepare for the exhausting prospect of driving back to Forks. Maybe if she put the radio on loud enough…

But already anxiety was beginning to crawl across her skin, marching down her spine and churning in her gut. She rubbed the back of the neck, her face gone clammy.

Mrs. Brandon opened the door and dread shot cold right to Bella's core. She raced forward, slamming the door shut again. "Wait!"

Both Cynthia and her mother stared. "What is it?" the older woman asked.

"I…" Bella shook her head, finding it hard to speak. "I don't know. I just…" She swallowed several times. "I'm sorry. That's my fault. I'm sorry."

"It's okay, Bella. We understand." Cynthia threw her arms around Bella's waist.

Bella closed her eyes, letting her hand rest on the child's soft hair. She was freaking out for nothing.

They opened the door again, and Bella's eyes darted around. The neighborhood was too quiet. She wrapped her arms around her shoulders.

"Bella, are you going to be okay?" Mrs. Brandon asked. "Do I need to call someone?" She reached a hand out to touch Bella's shoulder.

That was a mistake. Bella yelped and flinched backward. "No. I...I'm sorry," she said. She was getting lightheaded. "Yeah. I'm… I'll be… I'm sorry." She stumbled toward her truck.

"Do you need—"

"I just need…" Bella gestured helplessly toward the truck. "I'm okay. You can leave. I'm okay. I need to sit a minute. That's all."

They both watched her for another anxious beat before Cynthia's mother started herding her in the direction of the car. Relieved, Bella all but ran to her truck.

She just couldn't escape the feeling something was out there. Something was watching. Even though she was trembling badly by then, she kept her eyes just above the steering wheel so she could see Cynthia and her mother get safely in the car. She raised her head as they backed out, waving to let them know she really was fine. She just needed a minute to calm down.

When they were out of eyesight, she groaned and rested her forehead on the steering wheel. "Just a minute," she whispered. "Just a minute. I'll be okay in just a minute."

She breathed in and out, in and out. The scene was too serene for anything horrible to happen, she told herself.

Bullshit, she knew.

But her breath got steadier. Little by little, the vice grip loosened on her chest.

Beside her, the door opened. She wasn't the one who opened it. Her head snapped up, but by then, she was already out of the car. A scream bubbled up to her throat and stayed trapped there as her mind scrambled to process what was happening.

Though everything in her screamed to break free, instinct had her curling closer to the stone chest of the thing that held her. They were moving too fast, and Bella felt sick. The trees, the gray sky, raced by at dizzying speed, and she closed her eyes tightly. Even if she'd wanted to push away, she couldn't have. The arms that looped under her legs and around her back held her in a stone grip—inhumanly strong.

Inhumanly fast.

Bella opened her eyes again. The only thing she could see was a blur of trees and black-gray clouds above. With little choice but to hold on, she ducked her head and tightened her arms around the cold, hard neck of her captor as they raced deeper into the forest, away from civilization.

A/N: Please remember if you kill the author you will not find out what happens next. Yes, I promise this will be updated sooner than later.