Here's chapter 4! I did use a phrase or two from the book, so I thought I'd add a disclaimer - None of the characters belong to me, they all belong to Stephanie Meyers and her intensely creative world.

Chapter 4

There it was. Cocky, irritable. The lion slaughtered the deer, and I was waiting, ready to pounce.

"You know, you don't need to opt for a vegetarian diet. It's just something we do, it's not exactly normal," said Carlise from behind me.

I timed my movement perfectly, then leaped out, wrestling the beast to the ground and efficiently killing it, not a drop of blood split. "If I never try it, I'll never need it, right?"

Wrong. I've never tried human blood, but I could smell it. Warm, so damn delicious. But I was determined never to spill a drop of their blood.

I finally sunk my teeth into the lion, sighing slightly as the blood filled my mouth, feeding me like a parched man in the middle of the desert, finally getting rain. I made sure that it wasn't very messy, my clothes were perfect as always. Not red-stained or torn from the brawl.

Licking my teeth to clean off any excess, I turn back to the rest of the Cullen clan, with a flourished bow. Rosalie glared at me while Emmett, his teddy bear ways not completely matching his muscular, intimidating composure, chortled.

"Seriously though," he said, once I'd drained a bear. "How do you know how to attack efficiently? Have you done this before?"

"Haven't you heard? A contract killer is one of my various professions," I opt a western accent from old sheriff movies. "Anytime, anybody, I got it done by tomorrow. I don't ask no questions, but I get paid in fifty grand, at least. You got anybody in mind?"

"I'm good, thanks," laughed Emmett.

Rosalie continued to eye me nastily, counteracting tremendously with her Aphrodite structure. "No, really, it's like you were born to kill. You must have learned that somewhere," she sneered.

I decided to ignore the jab. "I'm rather good at carbon copying something else that someone did. Plus, the added grace I have now helps quite a bit."

She scowled. I bit my tongue.

We were out hunting for the first time. I'd chosen to watch first, looking closely at the way that Jasper and Edward artfully killed each animal. Each person had their own style, Emmett's being messy and drawn-out, though I could see that he found it captivating. Rosalie seemed to enjoy overpowering the animal; it seemed to give her some sort of high. Jasper's was calculated and always accurate, he thought for a bit and timed it perfectly. Edward just went in and just fought it, without too much beforehand planning, not that it was needed. Alice's was the most interesting, teasing the animal, allowing it to try and fight her, agile dodging due to her psychic powers of knowing when to strike.

Ah, yes. It's also come to my knowledge that some are born with supernatural powers - Alice can see the future, Edward can read minds, and Jasper's power, which I find very interesting. He can sense and manipulate the emotions of others. Emotions. I sincerely feel like that would be the most effective against me. Feelings are stupid things that make you fragile; if people ever know how you really feel, they can use it to their advantage easily. They also distract you from worthwhile things, things that determine the rest of your life.

Multiple theories exist as to why this happens, but the only connection I can make (that I've been told) is that they usually are drastically enhanced versions of a mental trait they tend to have. Edward was supposed to be able to read people well, Jasper extremely charismatic. It's not like that's changed, though.

Alice is another story - we don't know she's able to see what she can; neither do we know who turned her. Carlise turned Edward to keep him alive when he was dying of influenza in 1918.

Another point - how old they all are. Edward was born in 1901. Emmett in 1915. Jasper is the only one who refuses to tell me, with the exception of Alice, who doesn't know. I've asked him repeatedly, and he won't budge.

Once Emmett has finally finished with a grizzly bear, we leave, effortlessly dancing from treetop to treetop, until the traffic pulls us down to the ground, where we mimic human walking.

Back at the Cullen house, which is gorgeous, made almost entirely of glass. Rosalie and Emmett retreat to their room, while Alice and Jasper talk on the couch. One of the things I've noticed is that I never get tired anymore. I could stand for hours, and it would still feel effortless.

The house has a giant grand piano in the corner. It's magnificent, the ivory keys in contrast with the smooth black willow.

"Who plays?"

Edward looks up at that statement. "Myself. Do you?"

I know how to play three instruments - piano, violin, and guitar. "Some. I would love to hear you play, Edward."

He nods, and in half a second is at the bench. He puts his long fingers on the keys, pauses, then begins.

There are absolutely no words for the sound that billows around the room; it's so stunning that I can feel myself choking up, and if I still cried, I knew that there would be tears dripping past my chin.

When the piece ended, I just gawked, open-mouthed, enamored by the music. I could hear Jasper laughing quietly behind me, while Edward smiled, got off the bench and gestured me to it.

"You can't possibly expect me to show you the little I know after that breathtaking performance," I choked out. "By God, I am now questioning profusely the ten years of musical training I have."

Edward chuckled. "Don't worry; I've had ten times that amount. Match it with pretty much doing nothing all day, and never sleeping, this is all I do."

"It was...I am quite literally speechless."

"That piece was written by me for Alice."

They hugged, and I smiled. "That's so sweet."

"Thank you."

I looked out of the glass walls. "It's nighttime. What do vampires do at night?"

Jasper shrugged. "Nothing."

"And during the day - nothing again, right?"

"Except for hunting, yes. We go to school."

"That sounds terrible. Again and again, every year, for forever," I paused and turned back to them. "There must be something that I can do."

"Well, according to the world, you've gone missing. You're too famous to still exist."

"Not anymore," chimes a voice. We turn to see Carlisle. "As of now, you've been found dead. Accidental burning."

"How did you pull that off?"

He smiled. "They won't find the body. I have my ways. Don't worry; I haven't killed anybody."

"Do you do this often?"

"Not too often. Every fifty years or so. It used to be easier; people would quickly believe that the spirits of death had made away with you for sinning; you didn't even need DNA evidence."

"Wow."

"Yes. Now, there is an issue," he turned serious. "Your money. Over five million dollars, all in your name. You haven't made a will, so they aren't sure what to do with it."

"How about I pretend to be my sister? Then I can split it up as I prefer."

"She wouldn't turn up in legal records."

"She will trust me," Silence. I can feel the eyes of everyone in the room, but my expression gives nothing away.

Carlisle clears his throat. "Fine then. You have a meeting with your lawyer tomorrow morning in Redding, California. You'd better start driving."

"Sure."

"Wait. Jasper, go with her," he regards my confused expression. "It can be hard sometimes for newborns to control themselves around humans. Alice, give her contact lenses."

"Wendelyn Gray has green eyes."

Silence again. "All right then."

-break-

"Do you mind if I drive?"

"Go ahead."

He presses the button to open the garage, and I whistle. He chuckles.

"This garage has more fancy cars than the New York International Auto Show."

"You've been there?" he says as he takes a key off the hook and clicks the button.

"My uncle's obsession. You?"

"Yes, the one in 1954."

I climb into the silver Porsche. "Can I ask again how old you are?"

"Can I refuse again to answer?"

"Why?"

The car is well out of the garage and driving along State Route 110 when he finally answers. "I...don't much like the answer."

"You don't much like the answer?"

"No."

I sighed. "Can you at least tell me where you were born? I know what it's someplace south because of the accent."

He smiled. "Houston."

"Well! Was that so hard?"

"You're trying to make me more open?"

"Why is that so strange?"

"Do you know that I can detect every emotion except for yours?"

I stiffen. "What do you mean?"

"And Edward can read all minds. You?" he gestured to me. "Nothing."

"I see."

"There it is again. I thought I was getting something. Now it's gone. It's infuriating, actually."

"Huh."

We are quiet, then I say. "I was born in Doylestown, Pennsylvania."

"Parents?"

"Mom. I never knew my dad."

"What did she do?"

"It doesn't matter," I say suddenly.

He nods. "Fine. What are your hobbies?"

"Write. Read. Direct. Music - playing it, writing it, singing it. Leading others. Producing. Excelling."

"Long list."

"Should be. You don't wonder how I have five million at eighteen?"

He took a sharp left. "I was wondering along the lines of robbing a bank?"

"Original."

Jasper laughed and fiddled with the radio, turning it to an oldies station which was playing "Jolene".

We listen for a few miles, which is possible given the speed we're going at. I would think it bothered me, but it doesn't. It feels very natural.

Jasper's driving is fantastic. He drives with one hand, effortless in all aspects of the word, perfectly centered, looking like cars in kids' cartoons.

"Did you enjoy that song?"

"I love Dolly Parton, and that song is definitely beautifully sung, but I don't fully agree with the lyrics."

He looks over at me. "The world is constantly changing."

"I know."

"I stay the same, though."

"You do. I guess I will too."

"Correct," he fixed his eyes to mine. "Do you not feel like something has been taken from you?"

"Can we not talk about this?"

"Please," he pleaded. "It's frustrating enough already that I'm not able to figure it out."

"Fine," I break the eye contact and stare at the road. "In reality, I'm trying not to think about it. Not doing anything at all for the rest of my life is a breeding ground. I think that I'm honestly looking at this setting as I would a Bram Stoker novel. It's interesting, it's horrific, but it's not real."

"It's as real as it gets."

"It makes zero sense."

"Do most things?"

I whip my head back at him. He stares ahead, amused by my reaction.

"Yes, things that have scientific backing make sense. Everything, other than this, makes sense!"

Then I feel myself relaxing, my irritable attitude failing to find a good reason. "It finally worked."

"What worked?" I asked.

"For the first time, I'm able to control your emotions."

"Dammit!" I shrieked, startling even Jasper. I stiffened, took five deep breaths, and chanted my mantra for times like this. It works. I calm and return to my usual, plastic self.

"Is something wrong?"

I smile at him. "I'm so sorry to have startled you like that. You caught me off guard, I believe."

He gave a low growl. "Gone. Again. Are you intentionally doing this?"

"Stop manipulating my feelings."

We glare at each other. Then we're quiet for the rest of the drive.

We pull up to a fancy restaurant, getting out, and walking towards the main entrance. "May I ask why we scheduled it so quickly?"

In response, he pointed to the sky. "It's not often cloudy here for a full day."

"Ah."

"Yes," he holds the door open for me, and we step into the beige-ish restaurant. The maître d' looks up when we enter, her eyes wide and fixed on Jasper.

"Hi!" she exclaims, way too cheerfully. "Can I find you a table?"

"We have a reservation."

"Awesome, awesome," she looks down at her notebook. "So you'll have table..."

"We haven't told you our reservation name yet," I say, trying hard not to laugh.

She finally looks at me, her expression filled with distaste. "Oh."

I look at Jasper. "Hale."

She nods drastically when he talks and jabs a name on her list. "Perfect! You'll have table 4."

Jasper starts following her while she puts up a constant chatter. When we get to our table, she casts him a hopeful look but gives up when he seems to avoid her gaze.

I look back at the girl, who's practically running back to the kitchen with barely suppressed excitement, and at Jasper, who is calmly pretending to read the menu. "Seriously?"

"What?" he replies.

"She's probably hyperventilating by now. It was obvious that she was trying to flirt with you!"

"So?"

"So? You could have looked at her."

"And lead her on?"

"I..argh, you shouldn't have dazzled her in the first place."

"I dazzled her?"

"Obviously."

"Do I dazzle you?"

"Frequently."

This seemed to surprise him.

"Would you mind terribly if I pretended to be your husband?"

"My husband?"

"Yes, it will be simpler that way. Fewer questions."

"Fine, then. Julie Hale has a nice ring to it."

He stiffens. Goddammit. "Forget I said that."

"You have yet to explain how you have a nonexistent sister who is somehow in legal records."

"How do you know she's nonexistent?"

"Why Wendelyn?"

This caught me off guard. "What?"

"Why did you choose Wendelyn as a name? It's rather old-fashioned, don't you think?"

I smiled slightly and answered truthfully. "One of my favorite authors. Wendelin Van Draanen. You probably don't know who she is, she's only been popular in the last twenty years or so. Anyway, I've always liked the name. I did modernize it by adding a 'y'."

I expect him to press it, but he nods and checks his watch. "The lawyer is late." I'm about to agree when the man himself gives our name as a reservation. "Speak of the devil," I murmur.

The lawyer isn't as old as I would have expected, instead maybe in his early twenties, with brown hair and dimples. I might have found him cute had I not spent the day with the most charming people on earth. He sat down in the chair across from us, flipping through a black leather binder. "Wendelyn Cynthia Gray? Twin sister of Julianne Elizabeth Gray?"

"Correct. But now it is Wendelyn Hale." I gesture to Jasper. He ignores it.

"I didn't know that Julie Gray had a.." he looks up at my face and trails off. "Sister."

"I'm not as famous as Julie, per se. That life never fitted me. You'll find me, though, in legal records. I was born on the eighth of December, same as my sister, 1995."

"That won't be necessary, I believe you."

I've noticed that when you're stunningly gorgeous, people tend to go with whatever you say.

"So, I assume you were the pretty one?"

"Sorry?"

"Out of your sister and yourself, I mean."

I gaze at him and let my face drop into a furious rage. "My sister is dead. I can hardly believe you. We may not have been the best of friends, but she was my sister."

He apologizes profusely, and I ignore it, scanning the papers that he's given me.

"Is there a place I'd sign?" I said, interrupting his tangent. He nods and points. I sign.

He takes the papers, writing something.

"I'm surprised you've been able to control yourself so well. You haven't even begun to lose restrain," Jasper says, exceptionally quiet, so only I can hear it.

"Why would I lose control?" I'm barely whispering.

"Being around so many humans, your thirst usually goes crazy, being a newborn."

My thirst. My thirst? I now realize the intense burning in my throat, the fact that all I can smell now in warm, bright, delicious human blood. A million times better than animal blood. It would be so easy to kill him, flash him a sweet smile, and have him follow me; he'd do it easily. And it would be quick. And efficient. I could-

What the hell am I thinking? I glared furiously at Jasper, realized what he's done. "Would you mind making this quick?" he says, his concerto voice now irritated and cold. "My wife and I have somewhere to be."

"Wife" did the trick. The lawyer looks at Jasper for the first time, his heavenly beauty registering. Then he looks between him and me, his mouth slightly open. Finally, he nods and hands me the sheaf of papers. "It all belongs to you now."

I thank him in a strained tone. I'm about to leave, when he stands up and puts his hand out, his face earnest. "It was quite lovely to meet you, Ms. Gray."

The edges of my vision are blurring. I could pounce so easily. But what about the waitress? Easy, she smelled delicious as well. Jasper seemed to understand, because his arm went around my waist, keeping me from moving forward.

No. No. I'll be damned if I let something as stupid as a thirst for human blood keep me from control. I force myself to stiffen, take five deep breaths, and chant my mantra. It's working, the edges have stopped blurring, I can see him. I breathe and clasp his hand, shaking it gently for me, excessively firm for him. I gave him a bright smile and walked out of there painfully slow, trying to put control to an extreme test. I can feel my phone in my bag crumbling to ashes as I clutch it.

When I get out into the clouds, I collapse in the driver seat of the Porsche. "Can I drive?"

"I suggest that you don-"

"Can. I. Drive."

He tosses me the keys, and I catch them out the window without looking. Then I'm about to jam it into the ignition when I realize that I can't, or I'll break all of it. "Argh!" I growl, and rest my head against the back of the car, feeling so damn frustrated, I could smash every single thing here.

That's when I feel it again, the calming waves, washing over me—making my troubles seem not so problematic. This time though, I just let it be.

Once it's done, I breathe.

"Better?" Jasper asks.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome," I can hear him smiling.

I twist the key in the ignition and back the car out.

I hope you enjoyed it! One more thing - I would love reviews, I need feedback so that I know what to change or whatever. If you wouldn't mind, review!

Bluebell