AN: this work is Cowritten by Whovian378 over on AO3 which is where we originally posted the story, and to my regular readers, yes I am back, I am also in the process of moving all my stories to AO3 so unfortunately, it will be a bit longer before my other stories are updated, I apologize for the inconvenience if you'd like you can go follow me on AO3 my name is the same over there MysteryHeart, thank you

also, we will be updating this story every Thursday, I hope you enjoy it! Blessed be!

Chapter 1

Forks, WA - 2003
 January 20th

The sisters came down the stairs to see Charlie had already left–not that they truly minded. While he was better than their dolt of a mother back in Phoenix, Alice, Rosalie and Bella did not have the patience to pretend to be empty-headed teenagers that early in the morning.

Alice sighed, barely awake from her sleepless night, as she picked up the keys to the truck Charlie had surprised them with. Rosalie had taken an interest in cars during this life and wrinkled her nose at the old thing. Had it been her choice, she definitely would have chosen something…less old. It was falling apart and looked like a strong breeze would blow it apart.

"I'll drive," Alice said. "I doubt this thing—or the town—could handle the way you two drive."

Bella rolled her eyes in response to the sisterly taunt. "It'll do for us now. I'll take the bed." She hoisted herself into the bed of the truck, using the tyre rim as a slight foot hold. "You two ride in the cab."

"Better you than me," Rosalie said, her lip curling in distaste at the dirt in the bed. She may have been born in a time before showers, but Rosalie Catherine Swan was never one to be dirtied–unless she was under the hood of a car.

Bella smirked as Alice started the engine, imagining the reactions they were bound to get from the school populace over their presence and attire.

Bella was wearing an off-the-shoulder, form-fitting black velvet peasant blouse and matching pentagram choker. She had paired it with a pleated black skirt that fell to her mid thigh, fishnet stockings and heeled black ankle boots. Never one for too much make-up, she had simply applied blood red lipstick and black eyeshadow to finish the look.

Alice had chosen a dark blue corset top with lace sleeves and an identical choker to Bella's, paired with black skinny jeans and dark blue heels.

Rosalie, the more ostentatious of the triplets, had gone with a dark, blood red top with off-the-shoulder lace sleeves, a black skirt, stockings and open-toe black Louboutins she had stolen. With the same choker as her sisters, of course.

In Phoenix they had hardly been the 'weirdest' of the populace, but in small town Forks? Small minded heads would roll. But what else could you expect from vengeance-sworn witches reincarnated into the modern bodies of three teenagers determined to burn everything to the ground?

It wasn't long before they pulled into the student lot of Forks High School. Students were already milling around, but the girls didn't mind—they had gotten their schedules days ago to avoid coming in earlier than necessary.

Bella stood gracefully and jumped out of the truck bed, paying no mind to the gawking students. After being burnt at the stake under the gazes of hateful villagers, the open-mouthed stares of bumbling teenagers was nothing.

Bella quirked her lips into a dark smile as her sisters came to stand with her. "Ready?"

Their answering smiles promised vengeance and painful deaths to all who stood in their way. Without further prompting, the trio began walking towards the front building, easily forming a triangle as they did so.

~Scene~

First period proved to be a bigger bore for the sisters than they had expected. They had been in honours classes back in Phoenix, but Forks High School couldn't afford to pay for the extra teachers, let alone hold the classes. It had begun to look like school would be their main torture in Forks.

By third period—Home Economics–the sisters were ready to kill any number of their classmates—even just for the entertainment of it. Rosalie was drawing the triple homicide of three of their classmates—one of whom had sat at their table and hadn't stopped talking since. She had bouncing curls—none of the sisters had bothered to remember her name—and an equally as buoyant personality.

I wonder if she has somehow mastered a way to inhale oxygen without actually stopping to breathe, Alice thought, ready to pull the girl's eyes out, just to stop her talking. She sniffed and wrinkled her nose. Maybe she's poisoned herself with excessive hairspray and just can't shut up.

Suddenly, Bella's head snapped up from her own drawing (a pastor being burned at the stake) to spear the girl with a look so intense she actually stopped yapping. "What did you just say?"

Her sisters were spearing the girl with the same unnerving look as she blinked at them, shocked, and repeated herself with the same level of enthusiasm. "I said that the Cullen boys are the best in the class. I mean, no shocker there; they're the best in every class, but they probably get home tutoring or—"

Bella cut her off. "Which ones are the Cullen boys?"

The girl turned around to point, but Bella had already found her answer. There was a group of three pale boys sitting at the back of the class, heads together like they had somewhere better to be than in the class. They were inhumanly beautiful and alluring, in a way that drew even the Swan sisters, and had eyes that were…topaz?

The sisters sat up straighter, staring at the boys in confusion. While they had never personally met vampires themselves, they knew the stories. These boys were clearly vampires, even if their eyes weren't red. The sisters glanced at each other and nodded in that silent way of theirs. The vampires were probably wearing contacts—it wouldn't make sense to wander around with blood red eyes—it would draw suspicion, and probably useless wooden stakes.

One of the boys glanced at them, a mere flicker of his eyes before turning away, already bored. Rosalie's hackles raised. Even if they were vampires and their enemies, she deserved better than a bored glance.

"What are their parents' names?" Rosalie turned to the brain-dead chit, once again interrupting whatever inane dribble she was spouting.

"Hmm?" She stared at the boys like they were something dreamy. "Oh, they're Dr Carlisle Cullen and his wife Esme Cullen's kids. They moved down here from—"

The sisters stopped listening, turning to each other with wicked excitement in their eyes. Carlisle Cullen! He was here! So close was their vengeance they could practically taste it!

Alice darted her gaze to the boys and back to her sisters with a raised eyebrow and Bella nodded. Revenge was indeed close, but it had seemed that in the three hundred years since their deaths, Carlisle Cullen had gained a coven. One with strengths and weaknesses they knew nothing about.

Bella resolved to cast vampire and privacy wards when they got home so they could begin planning. They knew the doctor would recognise them—they looked the same as they had the day he had burned them, if a little less dirty. Now they just had to decide on an all out assault, or something more devious.

With a silent nod, the sisters turned back to the front of the classroom; they would test the battlefield at lunch.

~Scene~

The girls had come to the easy decision to test the Cullen boys—see how much they knew about their 'father's' crimes—and so they boldly sat down at their table during lunch. The sisters had even bothered grabbing the school's pathetic excuse for food—they would need to remember to bring their own from now on if they didn't want to starve.

"Can we help you?" the bronze-haired one asked in an almost bored tone, barely glancing at them from his book.

Bella gave him a smile she had learnt from Rosalie–one that never failed to get her what she wanted. "You can, actually. We're the Swan girls—we're new here." She tilted her head, her smile growing teasing. "I'm Bella, this is Alice, and that's Rosalie. We were hoping we could glance at your notes for Trig."

She batted her eyes at him. "All the classes here are a bit behind where we were in Phoenix, and we'd like to see where the class is now, you know? See if we have to brush up on anything?" She bit her lip, knowing it was the icing on the cake.

The bronze-haired one rolled his eyes and reached into his bag. He was most likely assuming she was using the notes as a ploy to flirt with him and Bella smirked internally. It was child's play to hide their true intentions behind the guise of flirtation—no one ever looked beyond that.

Bella glanced at Alice—it was her turn. To cover the signal, Alice giggled, tilting her head with a coy smile. "Your name's Edward, right?" she asked the bronze-haired one as he pushed his notebook towards them. He flicked his head upwards in a half nod, already bored of the conversation. "And you're Emmett?" She pointed to the burly one before turning to the blond one as a hint of wickedness entered her smile. "And that makes you Jasper."

Rosalie swallowed her grin. Alice had a look in her eyes that said she was ready to devour the boy and leave him stuttering in her wake. These boys were their prey, and the sisters were looking forward to playing with their food.

Emmett and Edward traded knowing looks as Jasper smiled tightly at Alice. "Such a fascination with our names."

She giggled like he had said something hilarious and waved her hand like she was trying to play it off. "You just have such interesting names." She glanced at her sisters who couldn't help their own smiles. "Your father has an interesting name too, doesn't he?"

Her hand ghosted over the notes as she looked at Jasper from beneath her lashes. "Carlisle Cullen, right?" she asked innocently.

He nodded, wariness settling on him. "Yes, why?" he asked with a slight southern drawl.

"Oh, nothing." Alice shrugged, waving her hand in the air as if it hardly mattered. She tilted her head. "Well…it's just a coincidence, really. You see, we knew a Carlisle Cullen once, didn't we, girls?"

A suspicious and wary tension settled on the three boys as they stiffened. Jasper covered up his wariness the best, only a slight tensing in his shoulders giving away his true feelings.

Rosalie sat up, knowing it was her turn to strike. "Oh, but Ali, they couldn't be the same man! The Carlisle Cullen we knew was a pastor's son. Destined for the church and absolutely eaten up with his own arrogance. A hypocrite too—condemning others for imagined offences, for daring to be different." She took a deep breath to avoid snarling at them and ruining the fun.

She smiled at the boys. "I mean, from what we've heard about your Carlisle Cullen, there's no way we could be talking about the same man.

"Obviously not," Emmett growled. "Our father is nothing like that. Carlisle is a good man." His 'brothers' nodded in agreement and Bella speared him with an intense stare, her eyes flashing violet so quickly the boys wondered if it was a trick of the light.

"Obviously," she said with a sarcastic drawl. "How lucky for you. To know your father so well. Not everyone is so lucky." She narrowed her eyes slightly at them. "And the unfortunate thing is that they try so damn hard to hide that part of themselves, that they often forget that someone, somewhere has seen that part, that shameful thing, and knows perfectly well what those people are capable of. Right, Catherine? Evangeline?" she asked, her tone suddenly bright again.

Her sisters nodded. "Right you are, Esmerelda."

Noting the boys' confusion, Alice smirked. "Our middle names," she offered as an explanation, wearing a smile that looked helpful but felt sharp.

The blond one was the first to blink away his confusion and scowled, leaning forward. "You shouldn't make assumptions," he said severely.

Alice leaned forward as well and gave him a truly wicked grin. "What are you going to do? Bite me?"

The boys reared back, eyes wide and nostrils flared. As they were gathering their wits, Rosalie smiled at them innocently. "Thanks for the notes." She tapped the notebook none of them had even opened, a wicked gleam in her eye. "Maybe give this one to your father for us, yeah?"

She and her sisters stood, dropping a piece of paper onto the notebook where it could easily read:

Some of us aren't the granddaughters of the witches you didn't burn; some of us are the witches you did burn–and we remember.