Hunter

Hey, guys! Sorry it's taken me so long to write this, but I had to do a little revising. I think I have a good idea about what's going to happen in the next few chapters now, so don't worry too much. I'll try to get back into the habit of writing every day. The last chapter didn't seem to blow anyone's hair back, so I'll try to make this one a little more interesting.

I've also decided to give myself a little incentive to finish this story. (Seriously, I've been writing this for almost three years now. It's getting embarrassing.) I'm publishing this on August 22nd, which means, starting tomorrow, there are 131 days left until next year. I average 4182 words per chapter. If I write 250-500 words each day, I'll finish a new chapter every 8.3-16.7 days. That equals between 7-15 chapters. That seems reasonable to me. I just have to get off my lazy butt and get to it, starting now.

Without further ado, here's Chapter 24.

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Bella Colt: Journal Excerpt, October 4th, 2010

A few days ago I dreamt about a man trapped in his car by some invisible force. As he struggled to get out, his garage began to fill up with toxic fumes, and then he died.

When I woke up, I didn't know what to think. I wrote down the car's licence plate number, remembering that it had Michigan and Great Lakes inscribed on it, and then I grabbed my coat and headed out.

The drive took hours. I called in the plate number and got a name, Jim Miller, and an address. My head was pounding as I drove up to the house. A police car was already stationed outside.

I was too late. The paramedics were already taking away the body.

It was like that vision of Waylon, only it was worse. I couldn't get the image of Jim's blank eyes out of my head. At least with Waylon, I hadn't seen all the gory details.

I stuck around, visited the family. Jim's wife, Alice Miller, (I nearly flinched when she introduced herself. Why isn't this getting any easier?), seemed kind, but strangely fragile, even for a woman who just lost her husband. (I realized in retrospect that she was exhibiting the signs of hyper-vigilance.) Her step-son, Max, was the same way. Very quiet, small and frail. He was vaguely handsome in a way, with curly blond hair and grey eyes. He seemed to like me a little bit, but he was too lost in his own pain.

I inspected the house, looking for any signs of poltergeists, or hex bags. I checked the weather forecast to see if any strange storms had popped up recently. There was nothing.

I almost gave up, and then I had another vision. In it, Roger Miller, Jim's brother, ended up getting decapitated by a window slamming down onto his neck. I raced over to his house to try and help him, but once again, I was too late.

I didn't know what to think, so I tracked down their old house to see if anything had happened to them before. I spoke to a neighbour and found out that Jim and Roger weren't as squeaky clean as I thought. The neighbour started talking about how, after Jim's first wife died, he took out his anger on his son, Max. "Bruises…broke his arm two times that I know of," he said. After a few visits from the police, the Millers packed up and moved across town to start over.

Now I had a suspect, but I couldn't figure out how Max – scrawny, watery-eyed, eighteen-year-old Max – could take out two tough guys like his father and uncle. And my visions, what did they mean?

I got my answer just a few minutes later, in the form of another vision. In this one, I clearly saw Max threatening his step-mother with a knife. Only…he wasn't touching it. The knife hovered in mid-air, floating closely to Alice Miller's eye. Max was furious, blaming her for never trying to stop them from hurting him. I wished more than ever that I knew how to control my stupid visions, because I didn't want to see what he did to her.

When I came out of it, I drove back to the Miller house, and this time, thankfully, I wasn't too late.

I managed to get Max to sit down with me while his step-mother waited upstairs. I tried to convince him that she didn't deserve to die, but he was relentless. He sat there, twirling a letter-opener on a table with his mind. It spun faster and faster the more agitated he became.

"When my dad used to look at me, there was hate in his eyes…He blamed me for everything; for his job, for his life, for my mom's death!"

For some reason, that last part caught my attention, so I asked him why his father blamed him for that.

He said, "Because she died in my nursery, while I was asleep in my crib. As if that makes it my fault. There was a fire, and he'd get drunk, and babble on like she died in some insane way. He said that she burned up, pinned to the ceiling, and that he saw some dark man with yellow eyes glaring at him from inside the flames. He said that he knew that the man was after me, and that's why mom died, and that's why he hated me!"

My mouth dropped open. "Did you say a man with yellow eyes?"

Had the demon, Azazel, killed Max's mother? Why would he? What the hell is going on?!

I wanted to get up and shake the answers out of him, but I knew I had to be careful. For whatever reason, his telekinesis was a lot stronger and more controlled than mine. It didn't seem to cause him any serious pain either. If I tried to fight him, I would lose.

He shoved me into a closet and pushed a wardrobe in front of the door. I pushed as hard as I could, but I knew I was stuck. As I stood there, another vision took hold, and I saw Max take a gun and shoot his step-mother right between the eyes. I shook it off and felt my power bubbling beneath the surface. I threw off all my self-imposed restrictions and sent a mental push against the doors. The wardrobe collapsed with a crash and I took off running up the stairs.

I needed to help Max. I needed to question him more about his mother's death. I needed to try and figure out what Azazel was planning.

I burst into the room, once again just in time to stop him. I told him that killing his step-mother wouldn't make the fear and pain go away.

Sadly, he believed me. He turned the gun on himself and pulled the trigger.

I swear on all that is holy, when I get my hands on that yellow-eyed son of a bitch, I am going to make him pay for all the families he's destroyed.

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Bella's POV

I stared at the journal, curiosity burning me from the inside, but as I reached for it yet again, I felt my headache worsen.

I rubbed my temples in response. "If this is my mind's subconscious way of telling me that I don't want to read Renée's journal, you can save me the headache. I already know that."

Silence was my only answer. Without Ruby around, I had no one to comment on my random thoughts. And she would be out for a few more days at least. Maybe even weeks. It was moments like these that made me realize just how alone I really was. There weren't many Hunters I could turn to, and that list seemed to grow shorter every day. I gave my cell phone a mournful look. I knew Jo and Ellen were on a Hunt together. Bobby couldn't spare too long to talk, not when he had to field calls by nosy police officers. He was the ultimate alibi, but otherwise, he was still just a grumpy, middle aged man.

I knew who I really wanted to talk to, but there was no way to get in touch with any of them. Edward had made sure of that.

Did he miss me? Probably not. He was over a century old. What were a few months to an immortal? Eventually time would cease to matter to him. Years would go by like seconds, and our time together would become just an unusual moment in his extremely long life.

Didn't matter to me though. I was patient. I'd see him in hell, even if I had to break into heaven and drag him down into the depths with me. That would teach him not to mess with me.

"You're losing it, Bella," I said, just to reassure myself that I could acknowledge how irrational my thoughts were. As soon as I stopped doing that, I would know I was in trouble.

I glanced at my mother's journal again, and, with an enormous amount of willpower, I reached for it and began turning the pages.

I stopped once I got to the entries made after I died, and started reading.

I had read these pages before, a dozen times at least, but it never got any easier. Still, it was 12:30 p.m., Monday. Jacob wouldn't be home from school until around three or four. And he probably had homework to do, so it wasn't like I could just drop in on him, even though the offer was on the table. It just seemed kind of sleazy to use him as a surrogate emotional crutch until Ruby got back from Seattle. Besides, if I came on too strongly, he might get the wrong idea.

Great excuses, Bella. That last one, especially. As if he doesn't already have the wrong idea.

I sighed. I just needed to kill some time, and then I could get back to protecting Jacob from those bloodsuckers. And then…I could leave.

It struck me then that leaving for a second time would be a lot harder if I got too close to Jacob. Ruby was right; sometimes I was too emotional for my own good.

I need an excuse.

That was it! I just needed some reason to hang around Jacob without making him think I was attracted to him. I needed some project, something that would take a long time to complete, and that I would need his help with.

Alright, what do I know about him?

Not much, unfortunately, but I could make a reasonable assumption that he liked fixing cars based on the oil I'd seen on his hands.

I cringed. I couldn't even think about damaging the Metallicar in order to reasonably ask for his help, but what other choice was there?

"Damn it, Bella! You're smarter than that! Now think!"

Alright, it didn't have to be a car, but it did need to be something mechanical. It wasn't like I could ask him to paint my house or something, especially when I would be outta here soon enough.

Forget about the future! Focus on the now!

I thought back to every interaction I'd had with him, and then I had an idea.

"Well…he's kind of in a wheelchair now…diabetes and all…"

I remembered reading something online about pedal-powered wheelchairs. The prototype looked like a combination of a regular wheelchair and bicycle pedals fastened to two steel rods that were attached to the wheelchair's armrests. They were used as rehabilitation aides for people with partial paralysis, like stroke victims. As far as I could tell, they were great for recovering motor function.

I didn't know exactly how advanced Billy's paralysis was, or if he was even paralyzed. Could diabetes cause muscle atrophy? I didn't know. Whatever the reason, I was sure Jacob would be more than willing to help me build one for him. That would kill two birds with one stone. I could keep an eye on Jacob, and repay Billy for letting me mooch off of him.

I smiled. Sometimes, I amazed myself.

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A few hours later, I drove back to the reservation, a stack of diagrams and instructions sitting on the passenger seat. I felt pretty proud of myself. Sure, the wheelchair was just the means to an end, but I'd bet Billy would appreciate it. Being stuck in a wheelchair was a pain; I knew from experience. Having a poltergeist slam a crowbar into your shins was a great way to learn that fun fact. The three weeks of rehab after the casts came off was no picnic either.

It would help him get some exercise too. Sitting down all day got you an express trip to Heart Attack City, and I didn't want to see Jacob lose both his parents.

A shadow moved in the tree s on my right and I reflexively glanced over to get a better look.

I slammed on the breaks.

Whatever was in the forest, it was huge. I couldn't see anything now, but I trusted my instincts. Whatever I saw easily stood seven feet tall.

Was it a bear? I wondered.

Probably, now that the Cullens aren't around to-

Stop! Thinking!

I took a deep, slow breath and kept driving. Whatever was out there couldn't be half as bad as what was menacing Seattle. If it did turn out to be something up my alley, I would deal with it.

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Billy was outside barbequing more hotdogs and hamburgers when I arrived. My stomach growled in response. I hadn't eaten all afternoon. I tossed the stack of paper into the backseat and covered it with a blanket to hide it. I wanted to keep this from Billy until I was sure it would work. No sense in getting his hopes up.

"Hey Billy!" I called out, waving at him. "Jacob home yet?"

He twisted around in his chair to look at me and waved his spatula in the air. "Not yet, but he should be here soon."

I smiled crookedly. Perfect. That meant I was expected to make awkward small talk with mom and dad's old drinking buddy.

Boohoo, I've handled worse things than suspicious parents.

I sat down at the picnic table and glanced around. Jacob's house was so isolated out here. And completely surrounded by trees. It was almost claustrophobic.

Funny, I hadn't felt that way when Jacob was there.

Billy cleared his throat and I looked back at him. "So, Bella, are you here for a job, or is this just a vacation?"

I tensed up minutely. "A job."

"A difficult one?" he continued.

I shrugged, trying not to broadcast any bad feelings. "Don't know yet. I still need to do a little research until I figure out what I'm dealing with."

"And you expect to be out here for a few months at least?"

I gave him a penetrating look. "Yeah, more or less. Like I said, it depends on what I'm dealing with. I can't go on a job with no idea what I'm getting into."

Billy hummed to himself and nodded slowly. "Did you ever find out what killed your mother?"

Well that was not expected.

I sat up straighter. "Yeah, I did."

"And?"

"It's been dealt with."

"Good." He left it at that.

Jacob was certainly taking his sweet time getting home. I was beginning to regret leaving so early. Billy knew about my world, but he wasn't part of it. He was an out-of-context problem. I couldn't treat him like a Hunter, but he wasn't exactly a regular civilian either.

The whole thing just made me anxious.

"You know what the Cullens are, right?"

Just had to bring them up, didn't you Bill?

"I know that they're conscientious about not hurting innocent people." Physically, my treacherous mind tacked on. "And I know that if that ever changes, I can stop them if I have to."

Let that stew in your mind, old man. I'm not above turning on my friends if I deem it necessary, so don't you assume I let them run off to kill a bunch of people. They are not like James. And they'll stay that way even if I have to Hunt them down one by one to make sure of it. Don't you even try to imply that I wouldn't do everything possible to protect the human race. I'm the Hunter, not you.

"Would you now?" he asked lightly.

"Yes." I gave him a hard look. His attitude wouldn't shake my resolve. If Edward and his family became a threat, I would handle them.

To be honest, I was probably the only Hunter on the planet who could handle a family of vampires.

Stop thinking about them.

We sat in an uncomfortable silence for another ten minutes. Billy took the hotdogs off the barbeque and set them on the table in front of me. "Help yourself. Jacob might be a while still."

"Thanks," I said automatically as I untwisted the seal of the hotdog buns and grabbed the ketchup. Having something to do was a welcome distraction from Billy's prying eyes.

I wondered what he was trying to see.

The awkward silence was finally broken by the rumble of an engine. I let out an audible sigh of relief as Jacob, with Quil in the passenger seat, pulled up to the house in a red Volkswagen Rabbit. I hadn't seen it yesterday, but I remembered it from my birthday, all those months ago.

Jacob and Quil seemed subdued as they exited the car. I wondered if they'd noticed me. I checked the backseat of the car, looking for Embry, but he was nowhere to be found. It was strange to see them without the other boy. The discrepancy between Jacob's height and Quil's seemed more extreme without Embry there to balance them out.

"Oh!" Jacob called in surprise, waving. "Hey Bella!"

I waved back mechanically, still puzzling about the missing boy.

"Hey Jacob, Quil. Where's Embry?"

Jacob scowled. "He didn't show up for school today, so we went over to his house. His mom hasn't seen him since this morning. He said he felt sick, so she told him he could take the day off. He must've snuck out while she was at work. Idiot."

"Jacob!" Billy interjected sternly. "Language."

Jacob looked about ready to say something else, but with one quick glance at me, he appeared to change his mind. "Sorry, dad."

I didn't comment, but made a mental note to ask him why he seemed so upset about Embry's little stunt. Wasn't it normal for kids to play hooky once in a while? Maybe it was just because he hadn't invited them.

"So," Jacob began, looking at me, "What are you doing here?" Then he flushed, cringing, "Not that you can't come over anytime. I just didn't think you'd be over again so soon."

"Ha! Real smooth, Jakey," Quil teased. He ducked casually as Jacob took a half-hearted swing at him, and then raced over to the picnic table for some hamburgers.

Kids, man, sometimes I wished I'd had the chance to be like them.

"I was actually hoping Jacob would help me with something. And maybe Quil and Embry too, if you guys are up to it," I explained.

"A damsel in distress!" Quil shouted. He leapt up from his seat impulsively and kneeled down next to me, taking one of my hands in his. "It would be my honour to assist you, fair maiden. And if Sir Embry were present, I am sure he would aid you as well." He planted a kiss on my knuckles, and then winked at me.

I stared at him in bewildered silence for a long moment, and then glanced up at Jacob. "So, is Quil often possessed by the ghost of Sir Lancelot, or should I just smile and back away slowly?" I asked.

Jacob was trying hard to hide his laughter, but he wasn't quite succeeding. Billy cleared his throat, and I saw him trying, and failing, to suppress a smirk.

Jacob finally managed to get a hold of himself and explained, "We're doing Medieval Studies in History class, and Quil is…really getting into it."

Quil jumped to his feet and turned on him, crossing his arms defensively. "What's wrong with that?" he demanded. "Those medieval knights are cool." He spun around to face me again, obvious excitement on his face. "Did you know they started training when they were seven?" he asked. "And that squires – that's what they were called before they were knighted – they were expected to fight in real battles when they were only fourteen?"

Fourteen, huh? I started fighting in real battles when I was thirteen. And I didn't wear a suit of armour to protect me. Squires were sissies.

"It wasn't just fighting, though. They did lots of other stuff. They had to learn horse-riding and sword fighting, obviously, but they also learned archery and jousting. I mean, there were some lame parts about it. Like, they had to learn manners and crap, and they were basically worked as slaves, always having to cook and wait tables, and mend clothes. I guess that builds character or something. It would still suck, though. But it would be worth it in the end, when they were knighted."

I smiled. Quil's enthusiasm was contagious.

"Yeah, yeah, sure, sure," Jacob grumbled. "Then they took an arrow to the knee and ended up spending the rest of their lives working behind the counter at Starbucks."

Quil rolled his eyes and pointed his thumb at Jacob. "This guy, all he thinks about is fixing cars. He has no ambition, or imagination."

"Oh, I can imagine quite a few things I could do to you, Sir Quil." With that, he managed to get the smaller boy in a headlock and wrenched him a few feet away from me as they started wrestling each other.

Billy rolled his eyes. "Jacob, your dinner's gonna get cold!"

"I only need a few minutes to kill him!" he replied, looking over at his father. Unfortunately for the would-be murderer, his potential victim used this distraction to throw himself against the older boy, knocking him to the ground, and leaving him gasping for air.

Quil stood up triumphantly. "Ha! Can't toss me around so easily anymore, huh, Jakey?"

"Shut up," Jacob replied, finally catching his breath.

"Jacob, Quil, I'm not gonna say it again!"

"We're coming," the boys chimed in together. Quil reached down and hauled Jacob to his feet.

"Nice tackle, by the way. I didn't even see it coming."

"Thanks, I've been practicing on Embry."

I just shook my head. Somehow I figured this wouldn't be the last time those two went at it. They reminded me of…

Emmett.

Stop thinking about them!

I grit my teeth and poured ketchup onto a hotdog. I wished Ruby would hurry up and find out what was terrorizing Seattle so I could go kill the thing and get out of here. It just wasn't healthy for me to stew in my own fury for this long. I needed something to take this out on!

Be patient, Bella. You can handle it.

Luckily, Quil's impromptu knight speech had distracted Billy from asking about what exactly I needed help with. After we finished dinner, and dumped the paper plates in the garbage, Jacob led me down the path to the back of the house where the garage was, with Quil following behind him, in front of me. He kept glancing to the side as if expecting Embry to materialize out of nowhere. I really hoped the kid was alright.

A thought suddenly struck me…

A flash of red and white, blurring through a forest…

Would Victoria be brazen enough to sneak into a sick boy's house for a snack?

My hands clenched into fists, and fury began to overtake me. A tree branch above me creaked and groaned before snapping off and nearly collapsing on top of me. I jumped out of the way just in time.

Dammit, Bella, focus. You've got to learn to control yourself better.

"You okay?" Jacob's worried voice shook me out of my self-berating thoughts.

I brush non-existent dust from the sleeves of my leather jacket. "Yeah, no sweat, Sunshine; I'm golden."

Jacob looked at me for a few more seconds before he turned around again. "Come on, it's just back here," he said, pointing to a small, red shack. I followed obediently, wondering if I should go by Embry's place afterwards, just as a precaution. But I didn't know the way! I wished I had driven Embry and Quil home yesterday. Then I would have a better idea. I could just ask for directions, but if he's really missing, they might start to wonder about me.

If nobody's seen him by tomorrow, I'll ask someone else where he lives, and then I'll check it out. I started scripting out what I would say to his parents. He's a friend of mine, (sort of), and I'm just a little worried. He doesn't seem like the kind of kid to just take off, and with all that stuff going on in Seattle…

Okay, maybe I wouldn't mention Seattle. No need to make anyone worry more than they had to, especially when I didn't know for sure if there was a connection.

Mom, I wish you were here.

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So, that's chapter 24. It's a bit longer than usual, I think, but this is mostly a filler chapter. Pretty soon…we're gonna have some fun.

I'm going back to school in a few weeks, so I'll try to have the next chapter up before then.

Adieu, my faithful, patient readers.