I read the page eagerly. The site was not linked to any "official" information sources like encyclopedias and I assumed it must be operated by a single individual. The article was...interesting and unlike anything that the Cullens had told me. The Quileutes were werewolves, or so the page claimed, but they were not true Alpha werewolves. The tribe formed a smaller category and was a division of some group called Beta werewolves.

"Well, that sure clears things up." I had no idea what all of this Alpha and Beta talk meant. As I read on, I found that this distinction meant they had the ability to shape shift only if they were of the "old Quileute" bloodline and if they were able to call upon their birthright. The rest of the page was a bunch of mythical mumbo-jumbo that made no sense to me. One line, however, caught my attention.

"Quileutes are traditionally healers and this gift is intensified when they interact with vampires, if the Indian is in possession of the "old blood" as well as their birthright."

I now had more information about this tribe but was it true? The website appeared simplistic, almost as if someone had just thrown it together. But the way the legends and historical facts were presented and tied together implied that the writer had a good knowledge of the subject. I leaned back and balanced my chair on two legs. How could they heal vampires? We didn't get sick! That part didn't make any sense, but the unexplainable urge to visit the reservation was insatiable and was now intensified by my curiosity. I needed a plan.

My eyes tingled. I missed crying; it was better than harboring all this fear inside of me. And I missed Edward. I swallowed hard. It was my fault he was gone. It was my fault that I had, against his wishes, become a vampire and was in this situation. The change had made me stronger physically, not emotionally. It didn't fix the hurt I felt now that he was gone; it made me determined to somehow fix what I had done – no matter the cost.

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\---O----------O ----/ ----- forks

Meanwhile: Edward is on the way to Forks...vroom vroom!

(That's supposed 2 be a car btw – I know it sucks...oh well!)

I decided to follow my gut feeling to visit the reservation, even though I couldn't understand it. If what Carlisle had said about the treaty was true I definitely would not be welcome there. It was imperative that I look and behave like the average human. I pulled on a pair of jeans and an old hoodie. A baseball cap completed an outfit that would have caused Alice to cringe had she been there. If the people in the photo were at the reservation I wanted to be as unrecognizable as possible.

People. I remembered the smell of the human earlier and the back of my throat burned with need. I had to hunt. I shot off deep into the woods after tucking a small notebook and pen into the oversized pocket of the hoodie. It would be easier to ask questions if I pretended to be a student working on a school project of some sort. The breeze shifted as I ran, causing my head to whip around. The scent was no match for the appetizing human blood I had detected earlier, but it would do. At the sound of snuffling and branched snapping I knelt into a crouch. My surroundings blurred as I honed in on the bear ambling about two hundred yards from my position. I ran and leapt. Bones cracked upon impact and the luscious odor filled my nostrils. The bear fell heavily and I drank deep.

A small squeal broke my concentration on my meal. I turned to see two dark eyes staring at me from the bushes. A cub. I felt sick. I had killed its mother. I fled the woods, not willing to look back. This was what he meant when he had said he was a monster. I understood completely now, for I was one too. The knowledge was frightening.

I tried to push the incident to the back of my mind as I headed towards the reservation.

The appearance of the area surprised me. I had expected tepees and such and I now mentally kicked myself for my naivety and stereotypes. The buildings were modern houses and the people rode in cars, not on horses. Stupid! I chided, laughing at myself. My smile disappeared as I smelled the blood. This little trip was going to be hell. I loved Edward more each second, as I realized how hard it was for him to be near me all the time. "Let's get this over with." I urged myself on.

I walked down a street trying to figure out how I was going to tell if someone had the "old blood" the web page had spoken of. "I could taste it..." I murmured to myself before I had even realized what I had said. Bad Bella! I steered my thoughts elsewhere. I hummed my lullaby as I walked. A man kneeling in a flowerbed twisted to stare at me and cocked his head slightly.

I stopped humming. He shouldn't have been able to hear that! It was too soft for human ears to detect. I slowed my pace and shuffled my feet slightly. It was odd, trying to appear clumsy now. I had grown used to my new grace quite quickly and enjoyed it beyond measure. It was amazing – being able to walk without falling every few yards.

He was still staring. I decided to play innocent. "How are you?"

The man blinked his droopy eyelids and raised his brow. "I'm alright. Anything I can help you with?"

I tested his emotions while he spoke. His surprise stemmed from hearing my humming as well as my appearance. Shoot! So much for being inconspicuous.

"Well," I slowed my voice and raised it a little higher in an attempt to sound younger. "My name is Marie and I'm doing a research paper on the Quileute legends, including one involving a birthright. Can you tell me anything about it?" I used my middle name, in case anyone asked questions. He was really shocked now, but it no longer had anything to do with my appearance.

"A birthright? Well now, you come on inside and I'll tell you what little I know." I smiled at him. He had a grandfatherly air about him and the offer was innocent. His house has small and had a musty odor. I pretended to nibble at the cake he offered me while waiting for him to speak.

"My name's John. Everybody 'round here calls me Doc though, so you can too if you like. I'm the tribe healer, more from tradition that practice though."

He winked and smiled. I couldn't believe my luck. The first person I speak to is a healer and knows the legend!

"Alrighty, there's a legend we Quileutes still hold to, and that is that we were descended from the wolves. Most people nowadays would call them werewolves, because they took the form of both man and wolf. Our belief is that the blood of the wolf still runs in those whose Quileute blood is strong. This trait is called having "old blood."

I had my notebook out and was taking notes for appearance sake. 'Doc' paused here and puffed a pipe he had lit previously. He waited now for me to ask another question. He obviously was not going to tell me any more detail about this particular belief.

"What about vampires?" I ventured. "I've heard before that werewolves and vampires are supposed to be enemies." He looked at me curiously and his eyes glittered. "What makes you think creatures like that exist?"

"Your beliefs hold that werewolves exist – why not vampires? I read somewhere that your people call them the Cold Ones." I drew now from Carlisle's reminders about the forbidden ground I had invaded.

'Doc' sighed. "If it's for a research paper, I suppose I can tell you a little. Myth still holds that all werewolves are enemies of vampires. That is not the case with the Quileute." He smirked at my expression which I knew was puzzled. His emotions were constantly fluctuating, from suspicious to amused to worried, they were all there.

"Don't get me wrong now, we do not like the Cold Ones and have taken measures to make sure they stay away from our land. But the gods have appointed us as their healers." He rolled his eyes as he puffed away. "It's an odd role, to be sure. Vampires do not fall ill; therefore we do not perform that type of healing."

I was on the edge of my seat. 'Doc' looked at me disapprovingly. "Aren't you gonna write down what I'm telling you, child? This stuff here's privileged information!"

I sputtered. "You...You're just such a good narrator. I forgot to write." My pen scratched the paper frantically, trying to get all the information down. The suspicion was gone now and I found the air easier to breathe. Not that I needed to. I made a mental not to check later to see if unpleasant emotions caused any other noticeable effects on me.

He nodded, satisfied with my effort and continued.

"The Quileute is able, if he is of the 'old blood' and can call upon his birthright, to restore a vampire to humanity."

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OOO I love cliffys!

I know everyone says it, but it's so true! Reviews really do motivate me to get chapters out quicker! Thanks you guys!

L.J.