**Obviously I don't own any of the Cullens or Maria, Nettie, or Lucy. And in this chapter, there are several instances where I don't own the dialogue. After this chapter, it should all be mine. Also, the dates that SM used for Jasper's transformation aren't quite historically accurate with his age so I have also taken some liberties with the dates. If he was transformed during the First battle of Galveston as it says in the book, he would have been changed when he was only 19. I have changed dates so he is 20. This is my first fanfic, so please be gentle, but constructive...and enjoy!**

Present Day: Forks, Washington

I was uncomfortable as all attention was suddenly upon me. My eyes flickered towards Alice, who smiled encouragingly at me. I felt the love emanating from her, which calmed me enough to start my story. I looked at Bella's face, seeing the confusion in her brown eyes. It didn't take any special powers to realize she had no idea what I was talking about. "You're confused," I spoke plainly.

"We're all confused," Emmett grumbled.

I smiled as I looked at my brother. "You can afford the time to be patient." I turned to Bella. "Bella should understand this, too. She's one of us now."

I could feel her surprise at my words. The emotion made me a little sad as I realized that Bella had never felt completely comfortable around me. It probably hadn't helped that the last time we had really interacted, I had tried to kill her. I still felt pretty bad about that incident. "How much do you know about me, Bella?" I could feel Emmett's impatience as he left the room to wait out the story.

"Not much," she answered.

Have you told her about Maria and the southern covens? I met Edward's golden gaze as I asked the question.

"No," he replied. "I'm sure you can understand why I haven't told her that story. But I suppose she needs to hear it now."

I nodded and pursed my lips, unsure of where to begin. I reached for the cuff of my ivory sweater and began to roll up the sleeve. Walking towards the lamp next to where Bella sat, I placed my arm under the glaring bulb. I could feel her confusion as she looked at my imperfect alabaster skin, trying to figure out what I was showing her.

"Oh! Jasper, you have a scar exactly like mine!" She placed her hand close enough to mine that I could feel the warmth from her skin on mine. The fire flared up in my throat as her scent flooded my nose. I tamped down the urge before my brother decided to rip my throat out, and smiled at Bella.

"I have a lot of scars like yours, Bella." I could still feel her confusion, so I rolled the rest of my sleeve up, past my elbow. I was always a little hesitant to show my scars to anyone other than my family, for fear that they would consider me a threat. However, to mere human eyes, the scars weren't very noticeable and since Bella was very nearly family anyway, I didn't see the harm. I could see her squinting, angling her head under the lamp, trying to get a closer look. I held my breath as her hair brushed my arm and I could feel her warm breath on my skin. I controlled my thoughts as best I could, but still got a nasty glare from Edward.

Bella pulled back, her shock evident. Her brown eyes caught my gold ones. "Jasper, what happened to you?"

"The same thing that happened to your hand," I answered. "Repeated a thousand times." I ran my hand over my exposed skin. "Our venom is the only thing that leaves a scar."

Bella's forehead crinkled and I felt her horror as she looked at me. "Why?" I could tell she was trying not to stare, but her chocolate eyes kept flickering towards my scars.

"I didn't have quite the same...upbringing as my adopted siblings here. My beginning was something else entirely." As I told Bella the story of my creation, I allowed myself to get sucked into the memories. It all came back with startling clarity, even after nearly 140 years...

San Antonio, Texas, July 3, 1863

"Major Whitlock!" the young private sprinted towards me on foot, gasping as he ran. I turned in my saddle to see the young boy stop and salute me.

"What is it, Private?" I asked, returning his salute.

"I have a message for you from Houston," he explained, holding out his hand in which was clutched a piece of paper. I grabbed it and unfolded it, grimacing at the dampness of the letter caused by the young man's grasp.

Major Jasper Whitlock:

You have been reassigned to the docks at Galveston to assist in the evacuation of the civilians. You will report to Colonel Halston by July 10, 1863.

Regards,

Brigadier General Thomas Carrington

I frowned and folded up the missive, tucking it into my uniform pocket. I nodded my thanks to the private, taking in his bright red face, youthful and innocent. It was not lost on me that this private was probably only two or three years younger than me, yet I outranked him considerably. I had looked older than my seventeen years when I enlisted and that was before I had seen my fair share of death and destruction. I must look ancient now, I thought ruefully. I had never regretted my decision to join the Confederate Army, but I did miss my lost youth.

Pulling off my gray hat, I wiped the sweat from my brow as the moisture ran in rivulets down my face due to the hot Texas sun. Galveston, I thought to myself. At least the weather is cooler there. "Well, Sarge," I spoke to my horse, "looks like we're on our way to the coast." I spurred him in the direction of my Lieutenant Colonel's tent. As I rode through the camp, I took in the sights and smells of my surroundings. I noticed several local whores lounging around the enlisted mens' tents, hoping to score a few pennies for their time. I looked away quickly, avoiding any eye contact. I knew I was a catch, having thick curly blond hair and bright blue eyes. And if I was being honest, the rank of Major was definitely an asset, having snared a few beautiful women for myself for a night here and there, but I refused to touch these women. These women who had at one point been involved with nearly every man in the camp already. I curled my lip as I heard them calling out to me.

I stopped at the hitching post near the command tent and tied Sarge loosely to the pole. I arrived at the large tent and walked through the wide entrance, the small spurs on my black boots jangling quietly as I entered. "Lieutenant Colonel James?"

The balding officer looked up from his table of maps. "Major?"

I handed him the missive regarding my transfer. The Lieutenant Colonel took it questioningly, his forehead wrinkling. He read the note quickly. "Damn that Carrington!" he swore, crumpling the paper and throwing it at the corner of his tent. "Leave it to him to take my best damn officer! The arrogance of that son of a bitch!"

I stood quietly in the face of my commanding officer's tirade, waiting for him to accept the inevitable. I worried that the large man pacing his tent in front of me would keel over. He pulled a handkerchief from his sleeve and used it to mop his rather large forehead, made larger by his receding hairline. His rotund belly was barely covered by his gray uniform, the heavy buttons straining. I knew that it was caused by his extreme fondness for whiskey, but never mentioned it. Even after the day that I was forced to lead a battle charge due to his inability to rise from his bed after a night of heavy drinking and whoring. In truth I was pleased to be leaving his command.

I was actually surprised that James wasn't thrilled that I was leaving. He was from San Antonio and his wife and daughter would frequently visit the camp to bring food for the officers. More than once I caught his lovely 18 year old daughter watching me appraisingly. For a time I had considered asking permission to court her until I caught her with one of the enlisted men behind an outhouse in a very compromising position, his mouth to her throat and her skirts hitched up over her thighs. I broke up the liason, pulling the man off of her and dragging her back to her front door. She looked at me in the moonlight, her beautiful green eyes brimming with tears as she claimed the young man had forced himself on her.

I could feel the lies emanating from her and merely cocked an eyebrow at her story. She continued on, trying to convince me that she really cared for me and asked if I would ever ask for her father's permission to court her. In response, she had thrown herself at me, her lips trying to find mine. I pushed her away in disgust and escorted her into her house without saying a word. Being the gentlemen that I was, I never reported her to her father, but after that she would constantly bad mouth me to my senior officer.

James finally stopped his ranting to turn to me. "Well, what are you waiting for?" he shouted, turning his anger towards me. "You better report to Carrington so you can be his little pet!"

Saying nothing, merely widening my eyes at this statement. As if I had a choice in this transfer anyway, I thought to myself. I saluted the Lieutenant Colonel and spun around on my heel to stride out of his tent, shaking my head as he continued his ranting.

I emerged into the sunlight, squinting painfully at the sudden glare. "Jasper, wait up!" I turned to see my only true friend in the camp walk towards me.

"Hey, David," I answered, waiting for him to catch up to me.

Smiling, David glanced over his shoulder at the shouting Lieutenant Colonel. "What did you do to James? He looks about ready to die from apoplexy!"

I grinned. "I got a transfer."

David's jaw dropped. "No shit?" he responded. His brown eyes looked downcast. "Good for you. At least you are getting out of this hellhole!"

We reached my horse, waiting quietly. I turned to my friend and clasped him on the shoulder. "I wish you the best, my friend."

"Thanks," the Lieutenant answered. "You be careful out there, and I expect to hear from you after all of this is over! I still have to introduce you to my sister!"

I chuckled and threw a leg over Sarge's back. "Can't wait to meet her!" I shouted, wheeling the big bay around and trotting off. I regretted leaving David. We had been close friends for about a year, ever since I had been transferred to San Antonio. I was going to miss him.

Galveston, Texas, July 10th, 1863

I arrived at Galveston a week later, glad to finally see the ocean on the horizon. Sarge was sweaty from the hot sun beating down on us and my blond locks were plastered to my forehead. It was a relief to feel the breeze from the ocean blow over us. I pulled my hat off and tipped my face back, inhaling the salty smell. I rode into the military camp and immediately found my commanding officer who, to my great relief, actually looked and acted like an officer whom I could respect.

Soon after checking in with him, I was told to help with the evacuation of all of the locals, guiding them to Houston. I was able to sneak in a nap and a bath at the local hotel and after saying goodbye to Sarge and exchanging horses, I was off again, mounted on a chestnut gelding, the early morning sun shining brightly.

A few hours later, I found myself on a trail with about 50 people trudging along, the sun beating down on me again. I loved Texas, but I often found myself wishing I lived somewhere a little bit colder.

"Whitlock!" Colonel Halston shouted from the front of the long line of people.

I trotted towards him, where he sat on a magnificent gray. "Sir?" I asked.

He nodded towards the back of the line of people. "Make sure no one is straggling behind."

"Yes sir," I saluted and kicked my horse into a canter, heading down the line of people. It was sad to see all of these people, crying and clutching whatever belongings they were able to grab before they were evacuated. We were in a hurry as we knew the Union mortar boats were due to arrive at any moment, their objective to take Galveston back, as it was a major seaport for our army.

As I rode down the line, a small girl suddenly darted out of the line and ran in front of me. My exhausted horse started violently and I was barely able to turn him away from the girl before she was crushed by his sharp hooves. His front feet landed harmlessly away from her and she looked up in fear.

"Amelia!" a woman bolted towards her shouting in fright. I dismounted and ran to her side.

The woman clutched at the girl, who wept into her skirt. "Is she all right?" I asked anxiously.

"I-I think so," the woman gasped. She turned to me and paused, taking in my handsome blond features.

Looking at her tear-stained face, my heart went out to the woman. I placed a hand on her shoulder. "It's really going to be all right," I reassured her. Her pretty face calmed with my words and she pushed her daughter back towards the line of refugees. I watched her walk away with a puzzled look on her face. I climbed aboard my horse, smiling slightly as I did so. I had always had that effect on people, as long as I could remember. I was always able to convince them to do what I wanted, and was able to calm people whenever I wanted. Charisma, my father had called it. I was convinced it was just because I was a good public speaker. And the good looks always helped. I was never particularly vain, but sometimes having the face of an Adonis did come in handy.

I continued to ride up and down the line of people, ensuring that everybody was keeping up. By nightfall, we could see the city of Houston come into view. I could feel the relief of everyone as we brought them to a small settlement where they could stay until their homes were safe once again. As soon as all of the refugees were situated, I grabbed another fresh horse and charged back to Galveston, ready to guide the next set of people.

On the way back, I encountered three figures walking along the trail. I was confused, since I had been very careful to watch for stragglers. I approached them, assuming they had gotten lost and were just now finding their way into Houston. Dismounting, I headed towards them to see if they needed help. I was astonished at the faces that greeted me beneath the cloaks they wore.

There were three of them, all women, but very young. They seemed even younger than my 20 years, and they were all extraordinarily beautiful! The woman in the front had porcelain features and was Mexican. The girl on her left was tall and blonde, and the third was also blonde, but shorter. I gawked at them one by one, unsure of what to say to such perfection.

"He's speechless," the taller blonde girl spoke. Her voice sounded as if she were singing, it was so lyrical in it's tone.

The shorter blonde leaned towards me and inhaled. "Mmmm, lovely." I took a slight step back at the close proximity.

The brunette spoke sharply. "Concentrate, Nettie."

I could tell by the reaction of the other two that this brunette was in charge. She carried herself as if she was the leader. She continued, her eyes scanning me up and down. "He looks right - young, strong, an officer." She cocked her head to look directly into my blue eyes. "And there's something more...do you sense it? He's...compelling."

"Oh yes," the girl called Nettie agreed. She leaned towards me again, getting quite close to my gray uniform. I stood stock-still this time, unsure of what to make of these beautiful women. They spoke very fast, making it difficult for me to understand what they were talking about.

"Patience," the leader cautioned. "I want to keep this one."

The blonde leaned back, frowning at the brunette. "You'd better do it, Maria," the taller girl spoke up. "If he's important to you. I kill them twice as often as I keep them."

The brunette nodded. "Yes, I'll do it," she answered. "I really do like this one. Take Nettie away, will you? I don't want to have to protect my back while I'm trying to focus."

I looked at the women one by one, the hair standing on the back of my neck as the taller girl talked of killing people. In my mind, I knew I had nothing to fear from these tiny women, as my 6'3" frame towered over the tallest girl by almost a foot. Still, I couldn't identify the feeling of fear in my stomach as I watched them communicate with each other. Suddenly the taller girl announced that they were going to hunt, and grabbed Nettie's hand. Together they sprinted off into the darkness.

I turned my attention back to Maria, who merely watched me quietly. Her beautiful eyes narrowed as they swept over me once again. "What is your name, soldier?" she asked quietly.

"Major Jasper Whitlock, ma'am," I replied automatically.

Maria swept closer, her luscious figure pressing against mine. I fought against the instinct to back away. After all, she was a woman, and a beautiful one at that. And I was a perfectly healthy man, my body responding as it was meant to.

"I truly hope you survive, Jasper. I have a good feeling about you." She tilted her head up as if to kiss my throat. I was unable to move, even as I felt a sharp burning sensation as her dazzling white teeth tore into my flesh.

***I hope you enjoyed! I know I didn't flesh out Jasper's being human much, but this story isn't really focused on that as much as his years as a vampire before he meets the Cullens***

Stay turned for Chapter Two! :)