Disclaimer:

This world and most of the characters belong to Stephanie Meyers. My main character Cricket, is inspired by Tara Bray Smith's character Nix from her novel Betwixt.

If you've read Betwixt, know this: Cricket is not now, nor will she ever be a fairy. Fairies are fine, but vampires kick ass.

When I came to, I knew I'd been moved. For one thing, without even opening my eyes, I knew I was lying in a bed. I could feel the soft mattress beneath me, the pillow under my head, and the blankets over me. For another thing, I could hear voices, and although the words were muffled, they didn't sound happy. I could also hear the sound of rain pounding on a window.

I kept my eyes closed, partially afraid that the light would make the throbbing in my head worse and partially afraid that I was not alone in the room. I concentrated on the angry voices trying to make out the words, but the words didn't get any clearer. I did figure out this much: The voices were from somewhere below me.

I didn't like this. Lying in a strange place, listening to an argument that in all likelihood was about me. I especially didn't like not know how I got here… Who brought me here.

Think Cricket, I told myself, What do you remember?

Walking, lots of walking. Welcome to Port Angeles. Two drunks trying to rape me. A murderous rescuer. Dead bodies. Blood. Blackness.

A man's voice was moving closer to me.

"Well, we might as well ask. She just woke up. I can hear her."

What did he mean he could hear me? I hadn't made any noise. Maybe they weren't talking about me after all. I heard a door swing open. I opened my eyes and sat up.

I gasped as I saw the four people entering the room.

The first man through the door had a kind smile and an incomparable face, the kind of face an angel might have, with a halo of golden hair. Incomparable may have been the wrong word to use because the pale teen with the frowning face was just as beautiful. His reddish brown hair gleamed above his handsomely angled face. Behind him was another, just as pale, maybe even more beautiful if possible, but this one was a female, with long blond hair and a body any swimsuit model would sell her soul for. Just behind her, slowest to enter the room was another young man, but this one wasn't pale. He had beautiful dark brown skin, with hair pulled back into a short tight braid, and light brown eyes that seemed too old for the face they were in.

I knew him immediately as my rescuer and I felt a rush of gratitude. Then the gratitude faded into fear. He killed two people. Not that the bastards didn't have it coming but still… There was the question of how? How did he get from one to the other so fast?

"How are you feeling?" The blonde man asked me in a voice like music.

"Fine," I answered. It wasn't really a lie. I was alive. In my book being alive was fine. I didn't want to admit to how my head hurt or how confused I was.

"My name is Carlisle Cullen, this is my son Edward, my daughter Rosalie, and their cousin, Nahuel." Carlisle gestured to each person in turn.

"Where am I?"

"Our house, just outside of Forks. Nahuel brought you here last night. What do you remember?"

"Everything," I said. My eyes flicked to Nahuel, slightly accusing, and then away from the intensity of his gaze.

"You hit your head pretty hard, but you didn't need stitches. Why don't you tell me what you remember? I want to make sure you don't have a concussion…" Carlisle said.

His tone conveyed concern, but my gut told me he was fishing.

"I was in Port Angeles when two drunks attacked me. Your boy… Nahuel, is it? Nahuel…" I hesitated. What if he didn't tell them what he did? Did I really want to get him in trouble? He did save my life, didn't I owe him? "…well, he stopped them." Stopped them? That was putting it mildly. He killed them with more ease than any human should be able to take one life never mind two.

The one named Edward was staring at me, more intensely than Nahuel was, which was saying something. It made me more uncomfortable than I was already. I glanced down and realized for the first time my bag was gone. Panic began to rise. My things were gone.

"Where's my stuff?" I asked abruptly.

"I'm sorry?" Carlisle asked.

"My stuff! My bag! My guitar! Where the hell are they?" I looked from him to Nahuel. "Tell me you grabbed them!"

"I grabbed them." He answered quietly in a slightly accented English.

I don't care what Angelface says, I find it hard to believe, he's a cousin.

"Where?" I asked again.

"Under the bed," Nahuel answered and gestured.

Without taking my eyes off him, I bent down and felt around under the bed. I felt the strap of my bag and I yanked it out and set it beside me. Then I reached back under and felt around until I found the handle of the guitar case. I had to look down to pull this out as it didn't want to come out as easily as the other had. Once I was sure it was all there I relaxed a little and looked back up.

"Thanks," I said to him. I hoped he knew I was thanking him for more than just my belongings.

"You're very welcome," He answered.

There was an awkward silence.

I tried to break it with a not too subtle hint.

"Look, I'm grateful for what you've done for me, but I'll just be on my way now." I stood up.

Nobody moved out of my way. They all exchanged looks. Suspicion rose in me like a venomous snake.

"You must be hungry, at least stay for breakfast." Carlisle said.

As if on cue another beautiful pale girl skipped into the room. This one was short and skinny with spiky black hair and a big smile. In her hands was a tray of food. Blueberry pancakes drowning in syrup, scrambled eggs, a couple slices of bacon, and a tall glass of milk. The smell made my stomach growl and reminded me of just how long it's been since I ate a decent meal.

"Esme asked me to bring this up for you," She said offering the tray.

I took it from her and sat back down. It wouldn't kill me to eat. Unless it was poisoned. Why the hell did I have that thought? I shook my head at myself. Edward snorted. I glanced up and frown had turned into a smirk.

"So, has anyone asked you the obvious question yet?" The new girl asked brightly.

"The obvious question?" I repeated through a mouthful of pancake.

"Your name. What's your name?"

"Oh! No, no one's asked me that yet," I answered. "Cricket, my name's Cricket."

It worked well enough for what she asked. I've been Cricket for four years. It's who I am now, and I am not going to hang around long enough for her to find out about who I was.

"Cricket? That's cute," she replied.

"What's your real name?" Edward asked, speaking for the first time. His voice was like liquid velvet.

How did he guess that wasn't my real name? I suppose its not that big a leap. Not many people are named after insects. But it's not any of his business what my old name is.

"Cricket." I said very deliberately.

Edward frowned at me and I frowned back. What's it to him anyway?

The dark haired girl cleared her throat to reclaim my attention. "My name's Alice. Will you be here in town for long?"

Before I could answer the question, her face got this vague look. I'd seen that same expression on potheads and heroin addicts… Was she on something?

Edward chuckled.

"I'm just here for the summer. I'm like a bird… I fly south for the winter." As I spoke Alice's eyes came back into focus.

She frowned at me. So did Edward. And Nahuel.

Carlisle glanced at Alice and Edward and I could have sworn I saw a flicker of confusion on his face but then it was gone.

Rosalie sighed theatrically and left the room so gracefully she practically glided across the floor.

"Carlisle, we should talk," Edward said and left too.

"Cricket," Carlisle spoke warmly, "there's more where that came from --" he gestured to the plate on my lap "-- if you want more just ask."

He moved just the same as the two who left before him. Graceful.

Alice smiled and turned to leave but paused at the door.

"Coming Nahuel?" She asked.

"In a minute," he answered not taking his eyes off of me.

She nodded a nod he didn't see and slipped out the door.

I found myself alone with him. He saved my life and I was thankful for that. He killed two people and I was afraid of him for that. He just stood there watching me with eyes that knew too much. When he didn't say anything I surveyed my surroundings for the first time.

The bed I was sitting on was king-sized with a huge ornate frame with wrought iron roses. It was centered in the middle of the room with a couch shoved up against the back wall which was made entirely of glass. The view was magnificent, through the rain streaked glass, the forested mountain range was visible in the distance. The walls were covered with rows of shelves that held an immense music collection and shoved into the corner was a sound system that must have cost a small fortune.

"It's my room," Nahuel said, guessing where my mind was at.

I thought about the bed frame again.

"Your room?" I asked.

"Yes… Well, technically it's Edward's room, but he moved out so I moved in."

"Huh… Is Edward gay?" I asked.

I heard a loud booming laugh coming from downstairs.

"Emmett," Nahuel said, "loves to laugh. Why would you think Edward's gay?"

"Well, the bed frame wasn't exactly made for a straight man, was it?"

"Oh!" Nahuel smiled. "The bed was for his wife, Bella. But they got there own place after they got married…"

"Married? He's what… seventeen?" If that.

"Edward looks good for his age." Nahuel smiled and then added in a voice that was almost sad, "Besides, Bella and Edward were made for each other."

I stayed quiet and looked at my nearly empty plate. Something about Edward and Bella made him sad, but I wasn't going to push. It was none of my business. Besides what if he didn't like my nosiness and flew off the handle and killed me too? I jerked my head up in panic suddenly afraid to have my eyes away from him, but he was still standing there. As I looked at his face, I found myself regretting that thought. He wasn't going to hurt me.

"You saw more than you let on." It wasn't a question.

"Yes," I whispered.

"Are you afraid of me?" Nahuel asked.

I stared into his eyes and was surprised to see them looking unexpectedly vulnerable.

"I should be. I watched you 86 two guys, one of which you maimed beforehand, and the other you… you… practically flew to his side." Was I afraid of him? "No. No, Nahuel, I'm not afraid of you." Not anymore. Why was that?

"You don't have to be," he told me.

I couldn't put my finger on it, but something about the tone of his voice made me think he was promising me something.

"So where did you get the name, Cricket?" He asked after a polite silence.

"A friend came up with it. He said I reminded him of a cricket because my voice made any night beautiful." I frowned at the memory. "He didn't have many beautiful nights… the least I could do was sing for him…" I shook my head and redirected the conversation to him. "Where did you get a name like Nahuel?"

"My aunt Huilen named me after a jungle cat." He answered.

"Where is she?" I asked curiously.

"Oh, back in Brazil I imagine."

Brazil? That explains the accent.

"You're not really a cousin are you?"

"Sure I am. Just not the way you think. Can I hear you sing?" He asked.

I smiled a little. He was doing the same thing I had just done. Redirecting the conversation to a safer subject. He didn't want to talk about his family.

"Maybe later," I said with a smile.

Nahuel didn't return the smile. "Can I ask you a question?" He didn't wait for an answer. "What were you doing last night? Don't you know midnight strolls are dangerous?"

"It wasn't a midnight stroll!" I snapped defensively. "I got sick of Seattle is all."

That distracted him. "You walked from Seattle to Port Angeles?"

"So what if I did?"

"That's a long walk for a hu--" He stopped short looking shocked at whatever he was about to say.

"For a huge…?" I prodded, wondering if their was an insult in my very near future.

"For a huge--" He stopped again like he was searching for the right word.

"Nahuel! Can you come down here?" An unfamiliar voice carried up the stairs.

For Christ's sake. How many people lived here?

"Coming!" He called back.

Oddly enough he looked relieved. He strode out of the room without a backward glance. What? He decided he didn't want to insult me to my face?