DISCLAIMER: When I was born, I was given the beautiful name Juliet, as writen before my time in the wonderous play Romeo and Juliet. Never before has anyone called me Stephanie, and I don't suggest you start now. So it must go without saying(although I am forced to say it anyway), I own nothing but the characters and plot of my own imagination.

A/N: If I don't get more reviews for this chapter, I will sadly have to end my series. Please review.

EdwardPOV

I stare in horror as shock locks me in place while watching the events transpire inside Alice's head milliseconds before they actually happen.

FLASH.

Her eyelids pull back to reveal all black eyes. Jasper flies backwards--

FLASH.

"JASPER!" Alice's shriek tears at my eardrums as painful as nails on a chalkboard.

Jasper soars backwards, feet lifting from the ground, as if being hit by an invisible van. His shoulders collide with the chipped bark of an old oak, and his head smacks into the thick wood with a sickening crack.

I'LL KILL HER! I'LL KILL HER! The defiant scream of Alice's inner voice pierces my brain. I grip her thin arms and pull them behind her back, passing her off to Rosalie like a rag doll, who wraps her long, pale arms around Alice's upper body, whispering urgently to stay calm, that Jasper is fine, and other senseless nothings. Vicious snarls and hisses rip from deep in Alice's chest. Her arms and legs strike at the air in a desperate attempt to free herself

"Emmet! Hold her down," I state in a monotone voice, nodding to the now immobile figure laying in the leafy underbrush. In a second I'm kneeling on the ground by Jaspers side. His shoulders are slumped and his head is to his chest. "Jasper?" I whisper, not knowing whether or not this girl's… power… can hurt-- or kill --our kind. He remains unmoving. I reach out and tilt his head upwards, so I can see his face. I use my fingers to brush his sandy blond hair from his eyes. They remain closed. "JASPER," I say louder and more urgently, a sliver of panic slipping into my voice.

"Y'all shouldn't be getting your panties in a bunch, I'm fine," comes the small but distinct voice of Jasper from a small, forced, smirk pulling at the corners of his lips. Rosalie releases Alice from her grip, who immediately pushes me aside to get to Jasper. Not wanting to overhear their sickeningly sweet thoughts for each other, I turn my attention to Emmet and the girl who he hasn't yet moved away from.

"She's not moving," he mumbles, and Rosalie and I step forward to take a closer look.

"Why should we care? The sooner she disappears, the better for us. She already knows our secret, and she seems to have a few unfriendly ones of her own," Rosalie mutters scathingly, turning her back away from the entire scene.

"We live the way we do to protect all human life," I remind her, my voice rising bitterly. I kneel down next to Emmet to take a closer look at the girl, who seems to look all the more feeble and petite at her current state. I listen carefully to her heartbeat, slightly slower than it should be.

"If she even is human," she responds spitefully, betraying some of her curiosity as she slyly glances toward the limp figure in front of me.

I lean forward, hesitantly laying my palm against her forehead. Her skin feels cool, which is incredibly alarming considering I'm as cold as a corpse. Her heartbeat is starting to get faint, and all color is beginning to drain from her already pale face. Her lips begin to show the slightest tint of a white-blue at the corners of her mouth.

"We need to help her. Call Carlisle. Bring her to the house. Something," I say urgently, knowing that her vitals are getting worse each moment we stand here and bicker. I look up and meet the disbelieving eyes of my favorite little pixie sister.

"You want to bring her--" Alice points to the obviously ill girl, "-- to our home, after she did that," she points to the old oak where new lines are carved into its trunk where Jasper's shoulders had obviously dented it.

"Alice," Jasper says soothingly, placing a hand on her shoulder, "look at me. You see? I'm fine. Now look at her. She's the one that obviously needs help." Alice's eyes are starting to soften, and its blatant that Jasper is transferring mushy, lovey, pitying emotions into her.

"But that girl--" Alice begins feebly.

"That girl has a name, and it's Camille. And Camille is going to die if we don't help her."

There was a silent and unanimous agreement in our group at that very moment, and I knew that we were going to save her.

* * *

My eyes seem to be glued to the immobile figure sprawled across the soft white of our living room couch. Camille, her name is. Chocolate hair splays out around her, bangs shielding her closed eyes. Alice sits perched atop the railing of the staircase, Jasper at her feet, cross-legged on the bottom step. Rosalie continues to stare out the back windows, a faraway look glistening in her eyes. I could simply tune into her inner voice-- no, she deserves her privacy. Emmet remains clanking around the kitchen, attempting to prepare some food for our… guest for when she should awaken.

Thud.

The soft noise draws my attention back to Camille. Her arm moved just slightly-- enough to become apparent to this room of vampires. I focus all of my psychic abilities on her, listening for anything at all. Her eyelids twitch remotely, the beginning signs of going from dreams to reality. All at once her eyes open and she springs up in her seat. The sudden rush of motion causes her to tumble off the couch to the floor. Her face lightens up in a smile that broadens into a big, goofy grin. Her laugh tickles the tense air as she attempts to get up on her own. Everyone stands as stiff as a board, waiting for what happens next.

"What a... prettyful... house you… haaavee…" she sighs spinning around in a half circle as if to get a better look around, but ends up stumbling backwards right in to me.

"Emmet, how much god damned medication did you give her?" I grumble angrily, struggling to hold her upright as she tries to further look around, laughing like a five year old all the while.

"Hey, it's not MY fault Carlisle is performing surgery. What do I look like? Dr. Phil? For all you know what I did could have saved her life," he shouts, unnecessarily, back from somewhere inside the kitchen.

"All that you helped to do is get her so high that she's unable to answer our questions," I mumble, annoyed, following Camille's twirls through our living room with my eyes.

"Who said she couldn't answer our questions?" answers Emmet indignantly, walking into the living room. I gesture to her with a wave of my hand as she walks past a mirror, stops, makes a funny face in the mirror, then continues to hop in and out of frame, appearing to be playing a game of peek-a-boo with herself, laughing all the while. Emmet's mouth settles in a hard line, obviously annoyed by my negative nagging.

"We could at least try," he growls, walking towards Camille. She is currently sticking her tongue out at her own reflection. I sprint to Emmet's side, waiting for the show to begin. "Camille?" Emmet sighs, looking at the small girl.

"MmmmHmm?"

"Can I ask u a few questions?'

"What kinda questions?"

"Ones like… What's your name?"

"Cam!"

"Good, okay. Do you know where you are?"

"Forks! The most boring place on Earth," she sighs dramatically, plopping down on the couch.

"How old are you?"

"Seventeen."

"How long have you been seventeen?"

"A while..." she whispers mysteriously, glancing to her right. My eyes widen profusely. Is she one of us? "Almost eleven months!" she exclaims happily. I let out a silent sigh of relief, Thank god.

"Do you know who we are?" Emmet asks reproachfully.

"You are…" her misty green eyes close as if in deep concentration. "You're… you're…"

"Yes?"

"Your kind took my mother away from me," all youthful breathiness is ripped from her voice, replaced with a cold, hard anger. Her eyelids pull back to show her misty green eyes turned as black and hard as flint.

"Emmet…" I whisper warningly, my voice betraying some of my fear. Fear for my family, fear for what I have gotten us into.

"We didn't take--"

"Yes you DID!" she screams and the entire back glass wall shatters into a million tiny fragments, raining down on us. "You're all the same!" the couch that she was sitting on seconds before soars backwards into the back wall, leaving a gaping hole and a pile of debris. "You're killers!"

Emmet crouches down, read to lounge at her, just before he is lifted off his feet and thrown into the far wall with a terrifying crunch. I dive towards her and I am immediately thrown to the floor with a power so strong I feel the granite crack beneath me at the same time I feel my head split open. Carlisle sprinting through the door is the last thing I see before the blackness engulfs me.

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