Disclaimer: I own nothing to do with the Twilight franchise.

Chapter Six.

So lightly did her black, steel toe-capped, combat boots fall upon the wealth of snow beneath her feet, she left not even a ghostly impression of a print upon the white canvass as she swiftly swept through the sprawling Alaskan hinterland.

Powerful and sleek, the Prima, She who is to be obeyed in all things, clad in formfitting black leather, effortlessly cut an untraceable path, pushing ever forward to her desired objective.

Purposeful and agile, Alexia, disturbed not a single spider's web, glistening with ice crystals, stretching between the naked arms of quivering shrubs. The Prima shifted not even one frozen rock, stone or pebble, all peering through the thick, frosted lake of snow in a chaotic jumble like so many spectators. She adeptly glided through close, hideously twisted, gatherings of skeletal trees without brushing against their withered bark.

A Sicarri learned from a young age to leave no evidence to their presence nor to their advance through any environment. Seeming to appear and then to simply vanish, like the most illusive of phantoms.

The apex predator amongst the most proficient hunters throughout all the realms, the Prima controlled her gait pattern without conscious thought, such was her skill, constantly honed and edged through all her life. Eleven thousand years dedicated to being the best hunter she could possibly be. To exist and conduct herself as the revered Goddess, the Sicarri's Great Mother and Creator, Artemis, had intended for her children.

Alexia's progress through the Alaskan tundra was lightning swift, and yet as soundless and stealthy as the majestic flight of a crowned eagle.

The brisk, winter wind carried a varied medley of scents to her, like an obedient serf, proffering homage to it's overseer. A Sicarri's olfactory, their sense of smell, was sharpened to Artemis's, the Greek Goddess of the Hunt's, satisfaction. With languid ease, Alexia, the last pureblood Sicarri, parted and categorised the collection of redolence to the far back of her mind. A malodorous herd of moose, invested with boisterous fleas and ticks, shuffled south in search of food, and the musk of a pack of wolves stalking them in the hopes of bringing down a meal of their own. The sour pheromones of Dall sheep in rut, to the north, as they called out for a partner.

Cool and detached, she dismissed each scent just as soon as she registered them. Since the time of their creation, the Sicarri were and always would be at the very pinnacle of the food chain. The Prima had not travelled so far from her homeland for an appreciation course in foreign wildlife, nor in the dense, dark wilderness swaddled in ice and snow. As picturesque as the backdrop of cragged mountains might have been to a mortal, she had witnessed sheer paradise in Theikos. Her homeland. Sculpted and moulded by the radiant hands of the Gods themselves.

Fleet footed, Alexia danced across a outcropped snake-pit of frozen, snow speckled roots tied to the base of a gargantuan tree, as if the monstrous rootlets were rearing their heads to snag and trip the unwary.

To her rear, she heard the clipped sound of her flaxen-haired companion hopping upon the thick wire of a root, balancing perfectly, as the Prima determinedly marched beyond the thinning line of trees, out onto a rolling plain of threadlike and flattened vegetation, buried beneath layers of snow.

Disappointment flashed in Alexia's stern onyx eyes, as she halted without looking back at Greyella. She sensed the younger female flinch at her own misstep.

She spoke in an ancient dialect of Greek, long forgotten in this world of humans, " I taught you better than that." Alexia's honeyed timbre, irascible and impatient in the younger female's direction, bore a hint of an exotic accent.

"Cut a female some slack, Prima. I haven't walked among my own people since I was a cub." Grey implored of her fabled mentor, holding up her slender hands in genuine supplication.

The younger female locked her feet, tilted her combat boots, and skated down from the arched root she had been perched upon. Grey's feet landed almost silently on the snow covered earth.

Alexia arched a shapely, white blonde, brow, murmuring a noncommittal noise in the back of her throat. In actuality, Greyella was a half breed Fae- Sicarri. The Prima had tirelessly guided and moulded the younger female into hunter of such prowess, the autumn-eyed female would forever overshadow the physical capabilities of any Fae. A great accomplishment for Greyella, a source of Pride, one The Prima could never deduct from. Still, once her young mate was within her grasp, the three would proceed to the Heart of the Sicarri Nation.

For Greyella to return Home, cleansed of her crime against the Council of Five, the Prima had called upon the autumn-eyed female to serve as her Centuri, the first of eight. An Elite Order amongst her people. One of the highest honours she could bestow, but induction into the Centuri was not without great personal sacrifice. The ceremonial death of all one was before, including their sins, and from those ashes came the birth of a Guardian-Hunter devoted to safeguarding their charge and to put the Prima's everything above their own needs and wants.

The Centuri of House Thanatos had a long established history of being the greatest warriors of Theikos. While Greyella's skills certainly labelled the younger female as adequate to stand amongst the rank and file of the Centuri. Alexia had already isolated areas in need of improvement. The actions and behaviours of her Centuri also remarked on her own honour.

The crumpled blades of frozen grass beneath her boots belied her passing through the line of trees and out onto the plain. Tilting her head of pale blonde hair back on her strong shoulders, she quickly studied the slate grey sky, her upper lip curled with satisfaction. She could feel the chill of fresh snowfall churning within the tempestuous clouds covering the Hinterland. The Prima's instinctive awareness of wind directions and the force of air currents invalidated the need of a snowstorm in order to mask her encroachment on Denali territory.

In her logical mind, she had carried a great deal of confliction concerning her young mate, and though she could no longer deny her animal need to be with Ashley, she still felt antithetical.

'She is a Fae. And not only that, she is the grandchild of my most despised enemy.'

Still, it was the Fates who chose whom to bind together. Perhaps the timely appearance of a snow storm, perfect hunting conditions for her entering this foreign domain of Fae, Vampires and Werewolves, and extraditing her mate absent a trace, was the Goddess's sign of approval?.

As Greyella drew closer to the striking form of The Prima, the icy wind swirling throughout the Tundra changed a fraction of a degree.

Alexia's elegant nostrils flared and her eyelids grew leaden over onyx irises as she slowly tasted the air once more. Ruthlessly slapping aside the inconsequential threads, her acute senses locked onto a most exquisite scent.

Sensation exploded from deep within her soul, searing outward from her core and racking her muscles like a hurricane decimates a lone reed. Similar to the agonising seizures that had been plaguing her as a biological punishment for forcing a separation from herself and her mate for eighteen harrowingly long years, but this was different, it didn't hurt. Heat scorched her pale hand, emitting from the bold inky black lines and swirls, stretching from her thumb knuckle straight to her wrist.

A thunderous roar built in her throat, trying to battle itself free of her, as her lethal fangs punched into her mouth. It was only due to her ironclad discipline, born of a dozen millennia of rigorous training, she scarcely managed to contain the sound.

...My mate. Mine...

Her animal instinct was louder and sharper than it had ever been. Not since the first time she had cast her gaze on her mate as a newborn had she heard the Voice shouting out within her.

...No more waiting. Track her. Now...


The angry grey clouds, hanging low in the sky, burst open like a floodgate. Unleashing the icy maelstrom of their bounty and pelting Alaska with yet another heavy barrage of seasonal snowfall.

Unaffected by the vicious flurry of hailstorm battering her sleek, graceful body, Ashley swiftly crested a rise of hard and compacted earth at the northern edge of town. She lithely dropped into an elegant crouch, lingering there for a moment, hidden from outside view by a wall of metre wide trees and bare shells of ravaged shrubs. From her vantage point, with preternatural eyes, turned black with hunger and the stress of the day, she had no difficulty discerning the scene playing out before her through the sheets of snow raining down from the sky.

Denali national park held the small sleepy town of Healy within a gently curved hand. Ancient forestry, hibernating serenely beneath a blanket of crisp white snow, flowed around the town limits. Beneath an overcast sky, oaks surged proudly above stout wooden cabins, homely brick domiciles and cheerful, family-run businesses.

Narrow streets had only just been freshly ploughed, granting a vague view of the yellow centre lines under a fine dusting of powdery snow and crystalline ice. The residual snow was piled knee-high upon the curbs of the sidewalks. The town streets were lined by aging cars and trucks designed for competent winter driving.

At the North side of town, where the high school lay sprawled upon an upraised foundation serving as a modest carpark, the area was cordoned off. Further down the street, where the preschool was perched, that too, was sealed off with yellow police tape flapping precariously in the brisk icy wind.

Braving the harsh, arctic elements, Healy's human residents had dressed warmly and had gathered at either side of the vast crime scene. Among the spectators, parents clamoured, like a great wave, against the single sheriff's deputy, attempting to reassure and placate the crowd, demanding that they immediately be allowed to withdraw their children from the schools planted at the centre of their worst nightmare. A child abduction.

Ashley's delicate nose wrinkled as the scent of fear and frustration wafted outward from the gathered humans like fallout from an explosion, assaulting her inhumanly acute senses.

With the unconscious human child clasped effortlessly in her muscular, bronzed arms, Leah settled onto one knee beside the blonde Fae.

"Whole damn town is parked in front of the schools." Leah observed, her voice a soft rumble.

The pack's Beta wolf tilted her dark head, allowing the Shifter's tiny cargo with whom the older female was sharing her substantial body heat, to snuggle closer to a living furnace. Leah nestled her pointed chin atop the child's head.

Ashley dipped her head in a slight nod of agreement, shifting her weight on her heels as she remained crouched low to the frozen ground. She lifted her hand and pinched her nostrils between her thumb and forefinger to ward off the fiery sensation building in her sensitive nose, responding to the scent of the human's worry and impatience steadily becoming more and more intense.

"Sooner we get this little one back where she belongs, the better." She murmured softly. She wouldn't let her mind ponder whether or not the youngling's mother was still alive and well.

Within dark eyes, the blonde's pupils narrowed noticeably in response to a wave of burning, throbbing bursting to life along the inky lines of her birthmark. Reflexively, she curled her left hand into a tight fist, stretching pale, eternally youthful skin over her knuckles, hoping to lessen the distracting thrumming coursing along the bold swirls running from thumb knuckle to slender wrist. The sensation, though not painful, caused her stomach to sink with worry as the reverberating quiver swiftly, yet steadily, swept up her lithe arm beneath her Gucci sweater and designer leather jacket.

Rather than risk Leah detecting this. Ashley deliberately sank her inhumanly sharp, perfect teeth into the side of her tongue. The stinging pain shot from the tip of her tongue to it's root and nearly drew a yelp from her.

This strange occurrence was not the first.

Sporadically during her life, the beautifully complex, tattoo-like, birthmark came alive with consuming sensation. Ashley remembered the first time. She had barely been older than the tiny human in her charge. Immediately she had raced through the grandiose Mansion, she called home, seeking out and leaping into her Dam's, Rosalie's, comforting arms, equal parts frightened at the newness and utterly curious about her dormant birthmark burning with life. In that moment, once she had described the strange and fascinating feeling thrumming from within her birthmark, she had watched as blind terror descended upon her Dam's smiling neon blue eyes, staining them blacker than any night sky she had ever witnessed. The resonating, frightened cry that had left her Mother's pale pink lips - a deep, primal, instinctive noise – had pierced her with panic far greater than the burning in her hand.

Then and there, she swore to herself that she would never reveal any reoccurrences of this sensation to anyone other than her twin brother, Lucas. There had always been this knowing Voice in the back of her mind, now near her maturity she accepted this Voice as her animal instinct, that had whispered she could not trust even her beloved Aunts and Uncles with this knowledge. That they would be obliged to inform her Sire and Dam.

Ashley had a deeply curious nature and she desperately longed to know the reason her Dam and Sire both seemed to harbour so much fear and anxiety toward her birthmark, the two elder Fae always watching her, with dark hawk-like gazes every time she traced the black lines and swirls, a helpless habit even when the tattoo-like mark lay dormant, but she adamantly refused to wilfully cause her parents such distress again.

She struggled to keep her expression neutral as she released her incisive bite on her own tongue. The pain emitting from that muscle pulsated like a beacon, allowing her to focus on that site of abused flesh more so than the thrumming in her left hand. Though deep down, she knew that small pain was like a cloud trying to block out the sun. It wouldn't last.

Leah nodded beside her, carefully rearranging the unconscious child in her powerful arms in preparation to relinquish the child over to the blonde Fae, "Ash, just..."

"Keep it simple when the Sheriff asks questions, I know." Ashley offered the wolf a dazzling smile.

The dark haired female narrowed her equally dark eyes, less than pleased at being interrupted, but rendered a helpless smirk inspired by Ashley's easy grin.

Mindful that her natural body temperature was sub-zero, and that her charge was still suffering the worst affects of hyperthermia, Ashley knew she had to move quickly and decisively.

She scanned Healy closely as she accepted the weight of the unconscious youth in her arms. She did not want to jostle the human's broken ribs, snapped during her own successful attempts at CPR. The child carried with her, a strong scent of urine soaked into her jeans and flower speckled knit sweater. Ashley gritted her pearl white teeth in outrage on behalf of the little female, petrified to the extent of losing control of her bladder.

Leah remained kneeling beside her, Ashley felt the boiling heat of the beta wolf's large, bronzed hand pat her on her shoulder. With that fond parting gesture, her aunt rose and seamlessly phased into lupine form, lopping into the forest behind her on four, great paws. With her clothes shredded, Leah clearly had no intent of shedding the fur until they were all home.

Dark eyes still trained on the small town laid out beneath the rise of ground upon which she stood. She glided to her feet, fluid and graceful as flowing water, with an arm around the child's little shoulders and the other under the human's knees.

As a hub of learning for the youth of three boroughs, Healy high school was one of the largest buildings in the small Alaskan town. Located opposite and a little ways down the street, Healy's preschool could only boast a fourth of it's physical mass. Large sections of the town were comprised of quaint houses and well-kept cottages, all with a yard or lawn, some were simply fenced off , others were walled off with redbrick turned grey under the wealth of snow bombarding the town. Alleyways ran between the concreate walls, crisscrossing here and there to create an uncomplicated honeycomb of passageways

Rapidly, Ashley's eyes became fixed on the mouth of the alley, four doors down from the iron gates of the preschool, down which she had pursued the Kobold in her effort to rescue the child she now held in her arms. The alley snaked through the town, running east behind houses, to the edge of Healy's border with the looming, wintry forest.

To avoid the risk of contradictions and complications when she made a statement to the sheriff, she needed to retrace her steps. That meant circling around the town eastwards, skirting the forest's thinned edge, before piercing Healy's perimeter, and back through the alley.

No obstacle for a Fae.

She heard the crisp, cold air whine as she set off along her path, gone in the blink of an eye. The world froze and even the snow falling from the dark grey sky seemed to still in mid-air as she ran along the rim of the forest. Sound trawled. The air felt as thick as cement.

Time itself seemed to pause, and she was the only creature moving.

She cut a route through the alleys as she had intended and reappeared outside the gates, yellow and blue paint flecking off the iron bars, of the preschool. All the humans amassed beyond the crime scene tape seemed a statue in her vision.

She came to a halt on the icy sidewalk, and with crash of sound, the world was resurrected in a chaotic rush.

The police and ambulance sirens had been muted, yet the entire scene was bathed in flashing red and blue lights from the sirens mounted atop hastily parked emergency service vehicles.

Two sheriff's deputies, dressed in regulation brown shirts, black ties and cream coloured pants, both with a heavy winter coat draped over their shoulders, stood at either end of the taped off section of the street, each battling to calm the crowds gathered there.

The principals, both human females were middle aged, she guessed, by the faint lines marking their faces, stood mere metres away from her, unaware of her presence as of yet, lingering across the street, and a little further up, exactly halfway between the preschool and Healy High.

She could read the stress in the teacher's bodies, shoulders hunched tightly beneath long, dark coats and the two females appeared unable to remain still, the humans swayed on the spot with their arms crossed around themselves, as they spoke quietly with the Sheriff, an aging, heavyset man with grey, receding hair.

The sheriff had a small handheld device in his hand, and was rapidly pressing on it's sensitive interface, taking notes from the clipped, anxious dialogue being passed to him from the school teachers. Long gone were the days of paper notebooks and pens.

The students of both institutions remained inside their classrooms, with preternatural eyes, Ashley could easily count the freckles dotted on the furthest of the enthralled faces of the students pressed up against the windows overlooking the crime scene. Crime in Healy was almost unheard of beyond the occasional bit of shoplifting, and such incidents were usually handled without the involvement of the small sheriff's department, numbering just four. The sheriff himself, his two deputies and the radio operator, all well known in the small Alaskan community. The whole of Healy's limited police department had arrived to handle the situation.

Ashley cradled the human child in her arms tighter, though with the utmost care as she didn't wish to accidentally crush the girl, preparing to inject breathless panic into her voice even as she silently scented the air. She was curious as to the whereabouts of her twin, but she knew she had to get her charge in the warmth as a matter of priority.

Fresh snow caught in her long, thick blonde eyelashes as intelligent, dark eyes rapidly scanned the area, relatively quiet aside from the increasingly angry clamouring from the crowd of humans clustered on the opposite side of the crime scene tape. She followed the sheets of flashing blue lights, falling over the street like soft waves.

Freesia and jasmine invaded her nostrils in the same instant her attention landed on a dark green EMS vehicle. The corner of her full, pink lips lifted into a small smile.

Her twin brother, Lucas, sat on the ledge of the back of the ambulance, his long, jeans clad legs stretched out in front of him. A silver, insulating foil blanket was wrapped around Luke's broad shoulders, and the male Fae hugged the material closely around himself. Her brother had hung his blonde head, his thick, silky hair cut short at the back and sides, low, in an attempt, she knew, to dissuade the paramedic standing beside him, patting his broad shoulder comfortingly, from engaging in a conversation.

Ashley had always been the better at weaving tales for the humans.

Instinctively, she let out a sub-audio chuffing noise, akin to that of a tiger happily greeting another of it's kind, far too quiet to alert any human, alerting her twin to her return.

Lucas's thick neck muscles tensed and the younger Fae's head snapped up. Her brother's facial features were too angular and sharp, much like her own except broader and heavier, to be considered rugged. Ashley and Lucas both favoured Rosalie's appearance. She had heard many of Healy's residents whisper that the Hale twins were both 'painfully perfect'.

Lucas's dark eyes brightened several shades at the sight of his twin, and a smile spread across his face, drawing attention to his strong, square jawline. Boring forth from his wide, barrelled chest, Luke released a rumbling purling, answering his twin sister.

Luke immediately unfurled the insulating blanket wfrom around himself, so swiftly the paramedic beside him jerked, eyes growing wide with shock at the unexpected movement. The male Fae graced the startled, uniformed paramedic with the twin's signature dazzling smile. Even across the distance, she could see Luke's lips, shaped like a bow, move.

She deftly lip-read her younger brother say, ' Thanks. But I feel much better.'

She started forth in a hurry, knowing Luke was cueing her toward the EMS truck with the unconscious child she held. Only to stop in her tracks when she realised she hadn't yet thought of a lie to cover why she and her brother not only failed to make their class on time, but were 'off site' when they should been at least, within the halls of Healy high. They had only been in the school's carpark at the time of the incident, but no human eyes could've witnessed the Kobold's attack from such a distance.

Growling softly, Ashley glanced about, devising a logical excuse while heedful of the unconscious human in her arms, rapidly growing sluggish once more and her little heartbeat slowing again. Her eyes quickly latched on to a jet black, Jeep Wrangler parked just beside her, hiding her from the view of the Sheriff and two principals across the road. She smirked, satisfied, as she spotted a pack of Marlboro silver sitting pretty on the driver's seat. Rapidly transferring the weight of the human female to the curve of her hip, with the child's head resting limply on her shoulder as if she were merely asleep, she reached for the Wrangler's door.

The benefit of a small town with no real crime to speak of, no one bothered installing car alarms.

Ashley had been working on cars with her Dam, Rosalie, since her mother had deemed it safe for her to hold a wrench around her Dam's treasure trove of vehicles. The locking mechanism, the actuator, was generally located just beneath the latch. She pressed her fore and middle fingers just beneath the car door handle, casting a cursive glance around herself, once content there were no onlookers, she applied a little pressure to the frozen steel beneath her fingertips. She smiled when she heard metal groan and dent under her touch. Pressing a fraction harder, the actuator crunched audibly as the steel rod snap.

Opening the Jeep's door only wide enough for her to slip her hand inside the Wrangler for her to grab the cigarettes, she let the abused metal door swing itself shut with a soft thud.

She pocketed the Marlboros.

Looking back to the ambulance, she saw Luke watching her with a glint of understanding in his charcoal eyes.

Putting an acceptable degree of speed back into her step, she rushed passed the Jeep and out into the snow speckled street.

TBC . . .

AN: If anyone is still out there. No stories have been abandoned, I repeat, no stories currently in progress, have been abandoned.