A/N: Thanks to everyone who reads and reviews and to Ella and kitchmill. They're the best!

I did add to this after it was returned to me, so please forgive any mistakes.

SM owns everything Twilight.

2-

"Mine," a voice growls next to my ear, waking me from a dead sleep.

I'm filled with an icy chill that has nothing to do with the temperature of the room. The air in my lungs halts and jams in my throat as I try to remain as still as I can. With great effort, I keep my eyes closed, not wanting to appear awake. My lungs start to burn due to lack of oxygen and I take in a huge lungful of air, my eyes popping open in the process.

My eyes dart from corner to corner of my bedroom, looking for the owner of the voice that whispered in my ear. I see nothing out of place; I hear nothing out of the ordinary. In fact, birds are chirping and a little sunlight is streaming through the clouds, shining beautifully through the trees.

What happened? Was I dreaming?

I must have been, because there's nothing here and no sounds to indicate that someone is in my house. To be safe, I do a quick check with my pepper spray in hand. Twenty minutes later, there's no open windows and no unlocked doors.

I guess I was dreaming.

After my search, I go through my morning routine and slip my robe over my shoulders after my shower. As I head toward my closet, I notice the door is slight ajar. I stop in my tracks, knowing that it was closed the night before. I always make sure to close it because open closet doors at night freak me out.

Going over, I push it closed and I notice that it takes a sturdy push for it to latch. I guess I didn't push it hard enough yesterday.

Quickly, I ready for my day and make plans to go to the hardware store. Today will be the only day in three weeks where I'll have time to paint over those horrid lime walls in the living room and I don't want to waste another second.

As I get into my car and prepare to pull away, a white figure from the attic window catches my eye and I stop the car, straining my eyes to see past the glare in the window. Whatever was there isn't there anymore, but I keep my eyes glued as I step out of my car, keeping my eyes trained upward. Overhead a bird flies by, casting a reflection over the window, making me jump and chuckle at my silliness.

Of course it was just a reflection of a bird, you idiot. You've seen that door. No one can get in or out of there without that seal breaking.

Shaking my head, I pull out of the driveway and make the short drive to Cullen Hardware, parking in the front. The store inside is spacious, with rows upon rows of paint, bathroom and kitchen fixtures, tiles, counter tops and tools. It looks like this store carries everything and I imagine that they're very popular, since the only other home improvement is in Port Angeles, an hour away.

Walking down the paint aisle, I browse the selection of paint they carry, seeing three colors that I really like. I'm debating between sandstone, lavender and a charcoal gray when someone comes up behind me, startling me.

"How can I help you?" A chiming voice asks.

Turning with my hand over my heart, I see a small woman with a pixie haircut and huge, hazel eyes staring at me with a beaming smile. She's wearing black slacks and a turquoise t-shirt, looking both professional and laid back.

"I'm sorry," she apologizes. "I didn't mean to scare you."

"No, it's fine," I reassure her. "I just didn't hear you come up."

"That's because she's so small and light. She hardly weighs a thing. Of course, you would doubt that when you see her eat like it's her last meal," a new, deep and charismatic voice quips.

My eyes drift toward the voice and it seems like time moves in slow motion as the man that has to be at least six foot walks up, lean with a hint of muscle. His white cotton shirt and paint splattered jeans only enhance this, making my mouth go dry as his muscles flex as he walks up. His copper hair is a chaotic mess and his vibrant lawn green eyes sparkle with humor as looks at the woman standing near me.

"Oh shut up, you. You're just jealous because I can eat whatever I want and not gain a pound unlike you, fatty." She retorts, punching his stomach.

"Yeah, but how long will that last? Pretty soon all that food that you stuff your face with is going to catch up with you and then you'll just expand. We'll have to roll you everywhere."

"Eh," she says, waving him off. "There will just be more for Jasper to love."

"Yuck." He screws up his face in disgust, which makes her laugh heartily.

"Please excuse my brother," she tells me. "He hasn't developed conversational skills yet. I'm Alice Hale and this nut job is my brother, Edward Cullen."

"Bella Swan."

I shake each of their hands, trying not to tremble when Edward's hand covers my own. I think I do a good job, despite fighting the urge to keep Edward's hand longer than what is sociably acceptable.

"How can I help you?" Alice repeats her earlier question, now that introductions are made.

"I'm looking to repaint my living room." My voice shakes a little, due to nerves. Edward hasn't taken his eyes off of me since I shook his hand. It's a little flattering, but mostly embarrassing. I hope I don't have anything on my face.

Taking a quick peak, I see he's staring intently at me, a small look of heat in his eyes and I look away as my cheeks flush. I've had men look at me this way before, but I never felt anything for them. There were a couple of men in Portland that I thought were cute, but I was never nervous around them and I never felt the world starting moving in slow motion when they walked.

This is something new.

Next to him, I can see Alice looking between us, a small mischievous smile on her lips. I don't know what that's about. Instead of trying to figure it out, I try to focus on the present purpose on why I'm here. I know nothing about him; he could be dating someone, engaged or married and one rule I have is to never mess with someone in a relationship. My eyes involuntarily drift down to his ring finger and I find it bare, but that hardly means anything. He could be the type of person who doesn't wear jewelry.

"What colors are you thinking about?" Thank goodness for Alice, who pulls me back to the present.

"These three here," I respond, pointing them out. "I don't know which one to choose though."

"Hmm. What type of home do you have?"

"A Tudor."

"I would go with lavender. It will keep that 'homey' feeling that you get from the outside. Plus, lavender is a very calming color."

"Great, I'll go with that one. What do I need to paint over another color? Will this do it?"

"What color is it?"

"Neon lime green."

"Oh, eww!" Alice shudders, her entire body shaking with disgust. "Why would someone paint their living room that color?"

I laugh at her reaction and watch Edward as he takes a can of paint off of the shelf. "This is the one you'll need. This is a primer, stain blocker and sealer. You should only need one coat, but to be safe, I would say use two."

"Great, thanks," I smile.

He nods in response, his lips forming a perfect crooked smile. "Is there anything else I can get for you?"

"I need some brushes and a tarp."

"I'll get it," Alice offers. "Why don't you go up front with Edward and get the bill ready?"

With those words, she walks away, picking up various items as she wanders through the store. Edward gives a small smile at his sister's actions and motions his head toward the register before picking up a second paint can.

"You probably won't need this, but we're having a sale on paint and you're getting a good deal. This can is 75% off."

"Great, thank you."

"No problem, Bella. So, are you new to the area? I don't recall seeing you here before."

"No, I'm not new. My grandmother lived here and I used to visit her during the summer, but it's been almost ten years since I've been back."

"Well, explains why I haven't seen you before. My family and I moved here nine years ago. That's kind of a disappointment. Only missed you by a year," he says, a crooked smile on his lips.

In response, I blush and tuck a lock of hair behind my ear, watching him through my lashes as he fiddles with the computer in front of him. After he types a few things, he turns to me just as Alice walks up with the rest of my stuff.

"Did you get her phone number?"

"Alice," he groans, his head falling back on his shoulders.

"What?"

He looks at his sister incredulously for a long moment, then turns back to me. "If I haven't developed conversational skills, my sister here doesn't have a clue what tact and subtlety means."

Alice rolls her eyes and gives me a friendly smile. "Sorry. I hope I haven't offended you."

"Not at all."

"Great! Edward get her details down so she can receive special offers and coupons later on and I'll ring up her purchases."

"Yes, drill sergeant."

"And while you're at it, you should ask her out. You know you want to."

Edward groans and his cheeks turn fire engine red as he glares at his sister. Alice, unperturbed by his ire, continues ringing up my things without looking at us once.

"I hate you," he hisses at her, before turning his attention back to me. "Sorry about her. She's a little pushy and such a nosy person. I told my parents to leave her at the hospital or sell her to gypsies, but they wanted to keep her for some reason."

I laugh and wave him off. "It's okay. I imagine all siblings are like that in some way."

"Unfortunately," he deadpans. "Now, let me get some information from you before my sister kills me."

I give him my name, birth date and cell phone number without problem, but when I recite my new address, both of them pause, staring at me with wide eyes.

"What?" I question, looking between them.

"You live in the house at the end of Hunters Court?"

"Yes," I answer slowly, wondering why they're reacting like this. "Why?"

They're both silent for a moment before they shake their heads, trying to school their shocked expressions. It reminds me of the delivery man from last night and it peaks my curiosity.

"No reason," Edward replies, clearing his throat. "That house has sat vacant for a long time, that's all. I guess it shocked us when we heard you moved into it."

"Really? It was in pretty good condition on the inside."

"That's strange," Alice remarks. "The total for your order is $70.26."

I hand Alice my credit card, watching their faces, hoping I'll get an answer for their strange behavior, but they remain silent. Despite their quiet mouths, their eyes speak volumes; I see nothing but worry and fear in their eyes and it unsettles me. When Alice hands me the receipt to sign, I scribble down my name and hand it back to her.

I start to question her about her reaction, but Alice's gasp stops me as she reads my name from the slip.

"Isabella Swan? You're Isabella Swan? Why didn't I put it together before? Oh, I love your photographs! My family has bought four pieces from you. Edward even bought a photograph from you and he doesn't generally like artsy stuff. He stares at your picture all the time. You know that sunflower field photo? He loves it!"

The tips of Edward's ears turn cherry red and his hand goes to the back of his neck, rubbing it roughly. "Alice," he spits out through clenched teeth.

I'm touched he and his family are such fans of mine. I have met other fans of my work at gallery openings and showcases, but never outside of those walls.

"Thank you, I'm glad you enjoy it so much."

I get a small, shy smile in response. It's a look that I can't help but return.

"I hope to see you again, Bella. I would like to get to know you more," Alice says, handing my bag filled with brushes and tarps.

"I'd like that, Alice."

"Awesome! I'll call you and we'll work something out!"

"Okay," I smile, happy that I've made a new friend.

My hand reaches to take one of the paint cans but I'm beaten to it by Edward, who takes both cans of paint with ease.

"I'll take these to your car."

For some strange reason, I blush at his offer and slowly walk out of the store with Edward trailing behind me. He places the cans of paint on the floorboard behind the driver's seat and takes the bag out of my hand, putting it back there as well.

He closes the door and stands in front of me, his hands buried in his pockets as rocks back onto his heels. "I hope this isn't too forward, but I was wondering if you like to get a coffee with me?"

Edward says this in such a rush that I have to think for a moment and break up the words in my head. I think about seeing yes immediately, but my earlier thoughts pop into my head.

"Oh … Um … you're not seeing someone are you? Married? Engaged?"

He looks shocked at my question, but answers anyway. "No, not at all. I wouldn't have asked if I was."

"Okay. Sure, that'd be great."

With a crooked smile, he helps me into the car and waves as I drive off. I return the gesture and make my way home, lugging in the paint cans with a grunt and dropping them onto the floor. After locking the door, I start to go upstairs and change into some ratty clothes so I won't mess up the ones I'm wearing. About halfway down the steps, I notice three of my glass figures are broken into little pieces.

I descend the stairs and walk over to the mess, looking from the pile of broken glass at my feet to the shelf they were previously on. My hand reaches out, shaking the object, wondering if it's come loose from the wall. It does feel slightly loose, but that shouldn't have been enough to make the figurines fall and smash to the floor.

Swallowing thickly, I squat down and look at the mess on my floor. My feelings are telling me that something isn't right here. But what? What could it be?

My mind comes up with nothing and quite frankly, I have no time to ponder this any further. I have to paint over the living room and hopefully get some work done. With a sigh, I retrieve the broom and dustpan, promptly sweeping up the glass and depositing it in the trash.

The day is getting away from me, so I rush upstairs and change, ready to rid my living room of the lime green color that hurts my eyes whenever I look at it.

I place the tarps down onto the floor and pour the paint into the tray, surprised that the color covers very well and no sign of the neon green is peeking through. I'll have to wait and see though. Sometimes the color will bleed through after the first layer is dry.

I'm on the last wall when I hear a loud thump come from above. It startles me so much that I drop the roller, splattering paint all over the tarp. My eyes are trained on the ceiling, as if I can see through the floor. Thinking that something must have fell, I go upstairs, which is my photography studio. My eyes scan the room, seeing nothing out of place.

What was that? The floors creaking? A pipe banging against the wall? It'll take a while to get used to sounds in this place, I think as I go back downstairs, resuming my painting. Luckily, the rest of my time is spent in silence, the only sound coming in is from the outside where cars pass by. Despite it being quiet, the uneasy feeling of being watched comes over me and lasts well into the night.

8*8*8*8

The next morning, my cell phone rings just as I wake up. The number on the screen is unfamiliar, but local, and I answer it anyway, hoping Edward is on the other end of the line.

My hope isn't in vain.

"Hi, Bella. I hope you don't mind me calling so early."

I bite my lip to contain my squeal of delight. "No. I just woke up actually, so good timing."

His chuckle emanates through the line. "Great. Do you want to get that coffee today or wait for another day?"

Before the sentence is out of his mouth, I'm answering. "Now is fine."

He chuckles again and I palm my face in embarrassment. "Great. I'll pick you up at your place. Is that all right?"

"Perfect. Give me fifteen minutes?"

"You got it. See you soon."

Once I hang up the phone, I jump up and run toward the bathroom, getting ready in a hurry. As soon as I swipe on some mascara, Edward knocks on the door, right on time.

"Hi," I breathe. Internally, I smack myself for sounding so childish and lovesick.

"Hey. You look beautiful."

I grin my thanks and gather my purse and keys so I don't make a fool of myself and start drooling like a fool. After locking up, Edward places a hand on the small of my back and leads me toward a sports car that doesn't fit in in Forks, but definitely suits him.

Edward helps me inside and shuts the door after me like a gentleman. Instead of walking around to driver's side like I expect him to do, he remains standing next to my door, his eyes trained on my attic windows. I duck my head down, wondering what he's looking at, but I see nothing.

"Edward?" I ask, opening my door so I can be heard. "What's wrong?"

He looks down at me, his eyes troubled. "Nothing." He walks around to the other side of the car, giving me a small smile and takes off toward the diner.

Again, he places his hand on the small of my back and escorts me inside, holding out my chair when we find a table. Dora comes by instantly, taking our orders after a quick look at the menu.

"Tell me about you, Bella. I know you're photographer and a painter, but what do you like to do in spare time? Where are you from?"

"I was born here, but raised in Seattle. At nineteen, I moved to Portland, Oregon where my painting and photos were offered a spot in a gallery. I liked it there well enough, but I've always thought of Forks as my home, so I moved back. For fun, I love to read and watch movies." That's me in a nutshell. Nothing exciting and nothing worth writing home about. "What about you?"

"My family and I moved here nine years ago after traveling through the area. We all fell in love with the landscape and decided to make a home here. I manage my father's hardware store and in my spare time, I play the piano and I also love movies, so we have that in common."

A goofy grin grows on my lips and I bite my bottom lip in order to stop myself from looking like a crazy person.

At that moment, Dora comes by, delivering our food. She must sense that this is more than a couple of friends having breakfast, because she doesn't stop for small talk and leaves with a wink.

Edward and I dig into the food, exchanging small smiles in between bites. After we're done, we continue our talk, chatting about our favorite food, color and movies.

The sun rises higher in the sky and I reluctantly admit that I need to go home. Days before I got settled here, I was offered a position in a local gallery and I have to submit new artwork. I'm ashamed to admit I haven't even started yet, but I know I'll get it done soon.

Edward drives me home and turns to face me with a gentle smile.

"Thanks for coming out with me. I had fun."

"Thanks for inviting me," I reply.

Edward's eyes keep darting between me and my house and I'm reminded of his reaction at the hardware store and earlier this morning when he stood there and stared, like he had seen something. Before I lose my nerve, I blurt out my questions.

"Edward, why did you look shocked when I told you where I lived and why did you look so strange this morning when you picked me up?"

I'm shocked he's able to understand me, but obviously he is. He sighs softly, running a hand through his hair.

"Honestly, I was surprised that it was sold," he tells me, speaking slowly, like he's reluctant to tell me what he knows. "After my family and I moved here, there was murder. In your house." I drew in a deep breath, but he continues like he never heard me. "There was a small family living there; husband, wife and their child. From what I heard, everyone thought they were perfect until one day the husband and wife were arguing and he killed her. Their child saw what happened and ran to get help, but he killed them too. When the police came to investigate they couldn't find the husband. Neighbors say that they're sure he went into the woods and killed himself because they heard a gunshot a little after everything went down. Those same people say he haunts that house. Your house."

Swallowing thickly, I turn and slowly face my house. It's unsettling to hear that someone has been killed in my house and even more unsettling to hear the murderer could be haunting it.

A part of me wants to brush this off, knowing that ghosts only exist in movies and books. But another part of me thinks about all of the strange occurrences that have happened since I've moved in. It's hard to ignore what I've heard and seen with my own eyes.

It's even harder to ignore what is staring me in the face.

My house is haunted.

A/N: Two more to go! I hope you enjoyed the chapter! :)