Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight. Stephanie Meyers does. I don't own the werecats. Rachel Vincent does. The werecat characters come from the series Stray, Rogue, and Pride.
a/n: I went ahead an combined chapters 2 and 3, hope you don't mind. Let me know what you think after you're done. The story is good and it begged to be finished. I just hope you don't get too mad at what I do to it later. This story has been adopted from Darkdefender89. Thank you.
2
Bella
I said goodbye to Charlie that morning. Staying with him had been a breath of fresh air. He didn't pry very much. I got the impression that he understood my need for for distances. He was still a part of the pride. But he lived outside the pride's territory. I hadn't given much thought as to why he had separated form the pride. I filed this question away for later.
Charlie was still very loyal to my father. I didn't think he was running away form he duties to the pride. I think it was more a matter of putting distance between his need for duty the need for a normal human life. Charlie would have made a good Enforcer. But he wanted something more. He wanted a human life. It wasn't my place to judge. I only know what I saw.
Is this what I was looking for? No, I don't think so. I may not want a normal human life, but I know that there is something else. Something more. I like the feel of fur.
Upon walking up to the 'thing' that Charlie had found for me to drive, I was little taken back. It was an ancient, use to be red, Chevy truck. I had to actually hop into my giant, faded red, Chevy truck. Charlie's heart had been in the right place. It was a gift from Charlie. His friend, Billy Black, was now wheel-chair bound. He had no need for the old truck now.
I caught myself as my mind wondered. Hmm... So why am I really in Forks? You do know what curiosity did to the cat right? Yeah, I didn't listen either.
Well, a little over a year ago, my older sister, Faythe, defeated a bunch of jungle cats from the Amazon and now is an enforcer with Marc (okay, okay, I lied about the whole arranged marriage thing…my parents were always pressuring one of us to get married and I didn't want it to be me…) and the rest of the boys. She got off with a warning after she was finally able to prove the partial shift, thus confirming that infecting Andrew was a complete, unexpected accident. I was glad to be far away from all of that chaos, anyways.
I parked my rust bucket of a truck in the parking lot and slung my black leather backpack behind my shoulder and walked into Forks High school. A boy with spiky blonde hair, named Mike, walked up to me. "Hello, you want to hang out?" he asked. His face was an open book. I found myself wishing him on someone else.
I could tell what he was doing. No way was I going to allow myself to make the same mistake as Faythe. What if I ended up being able to do the whole partial shift thing? There was no way I was going to risk that happening. I don't think Mike wants to be a werecat. Besides, I was curious about that Cullen boy…Edward, is it? And, yes, I know what curiosity did to the cat.
"Not really," I mumbled.
"Why not?" Mike asked, pouting. He had a bit of a baby face. I felt kind of bad for hurting his feelings, but Mike was seriously an Andrew clone, albeit several years younger (my sister is 23; thus, her mistake was around the same age as her. Unfortunately, he's dead now. He tried to kill her (I know, funny how that worked out, but you would be enraged, too, if your girlfriend turned you into a werecat and you didn't know that it was an accident…and a psychotic jungle cat was the only one who comforted you during your change, constantly feeding you lies, turning you against human emotions, and all those you loved for that matter…), and she killed him in self-defense.
"It's complicated, Mike. I'm sorry, I really am," I said, sighing. I should have just given him a flat out "no". I realized afterwords that might not have been the right thing to tell him. Hindsight is 20/20. It was normal human behavior to a young male and I was not up for a mistaken game of hard to get.
Hearing quick, faint footsteps behind me, and I spun around. Edward Cullen, bronze hair, golden eyes and all. He was lean and pale, but with well defined muscles hinting from under his black t-shirt.
Yesterday, he was acting so antisocial. I was determined to find out the reasons behind his cold actions. As I stared into his eyes, and his body went rigid. I could see the haunted look in his eyes. It looked like he was in pain. He turned quickly to move away, his left hand absently rubbing his throat. His eyes narrowing and then darkening. Maybe he wasn't feeling so well.
Human eyes don't change like that. Right before my eyes they went from beautiful and usual topaz to striking onyx. This gave him a feral look about. My inner cat purred.
Then he stormed into the front office. I realized that he was trying to transfer out of the biology class he had with me. Did he hate me that much? What did I do to him?
I was sweating. I was frustrated. My dark, wavy hair fell over my left eye and I stared at the tile floor, studying the archaic patterns, thinking about how messed up my life was. Humans had it too easy.
Right now I needed not to feel so human. I was feeling the human and the cat warring with one another. My cat needed her freedom. My skin was itching. I wanted to feel my bones stretch and flow. I wanted my skin to melt away to fur. How free it would feel, to run free with the wind….I had to find a place I could shift without any humans seeing me. My my skin was starting to feel itchy. I missed it already. I craved the pain of transformation.
Edward stomped out of the front office, looking even more frustrated than before. Before, I felt angry that he hated me this much. Now, I felt guilty. What did I do to make Edward this angry?
It was like there was a rope tied between us. The pull was starting to become painful. Did he feel it? I knew he wasn't a true human. But what? Angel, demon, maybe a fay? Well…he looked like an angel, so beautiful, so perfect and….this was wrong, so freaking wrong….I knew that I couldn't make the same mistake as Faythe made, but I was haunted. I needed to look at him. I needed him. But he was human ( I think), and I was a were-cat….What the hell was wrong with me?
Edward
A personal demon was the perfect way to describe Bella Swan. I wanted to hate her. I really did. The damn girl smell too damn good. Good, as in delicious. Mouth watering. Just passing the girl in the schools hallway was a torture test. To top it off, I couldn't read Bella's mind….which seriously frustrated me.
Carlisle called her my singer when I told him about this, but somehow, Alice convinced me to stay. I wasn't sure if Alice was telling the truth when she said everything would be okay. She was having a hard time seeing the girl. The only thing she was able to catch was snippet.
She was beautiful. I don't deserve anyone so beautiful. That thought immediately confused me. It was strange. Even when I wasn't in the same room with her, she still clouded my mind. Only Jasper and Alice knew how badly I was dealing with this. No secrets. Ever.
I was standing by the Volvo when I saw the a clear vision of Bella, from Alice. A terrible dark vision played across both of our . A dark blue van was sliding towards Bella, who was standing by her old red truck. The pavement was washed with blood.
'Not her,' I thought and cringed. The vampire rule book was out the window. I didn't even think about it. It was the last thing on my mind. I was a blur out of the corner of someone's eye as I ran towards Bella. There was no place to go except down and under her old truck. She didn't even have time to do more than looked shocked when I popped out of nowhere and pulled her out of the deranged path of death.
Fleck of dust spiraled in the air when the van collided with the rear fender of the truck. It was like there was a fiery monster hiding out as a van with a human boy inside of it.
'Not Bella,' I thought, pulling Bella deeper into the shadows underneath her truck. Away from the van. The van halted to a stop, leaving a big dent in the van and the truck.
"How did you do that?" Bella whispered. She tried to wiggle around to look me in the face but I held her still. I was enjoying this more than I wanted to admit. Her warm soft body seem to fit next to mine. Perfectly. Her small frame trembled when she peeked up where she was standing. Her eyes cut to me. They were full of questions.
"I was right next to you," I insisted quietly. She hit her head…maybe I could convince this beautiful angel to believe me. It was a long shot. The though of this little lie made my stomach twist with displeasure.
It was a windy, overcast day. A sudden gale of wind brought Bella's tantalizing scent towards me and my throat burned and my stomach did another twist internally. I held my breath, cutting off my lungs from the sweet air passageway. It felt uncomfortable, but it was possible. I forced myself to smile. I will not kill Bella Swan. I can't.
"No you weren't," Bella insisted. I saw a mix of emotions quickly fly across her face. Confusion, surprise, and grateful. "But that's okay." Huh? What was with Bella and her cryptic comments? A small secret smile pulled at the corners of her lips.
I like I had room to talk. I speak in riddles just as much. But I have a good reason. I am a vampire. I harbor a deadly secret. I cannot ever give in. I cannot ever let my guard down.
The medics tried to get me to go to the hospital, but I insisted that I was fine. To my complete horror, Bella insisted that she was fine also.
"I'm fine," she said to a blond woman wearing a dark blue cap, one of the medics. "See? I'm standing. I'm not dizzy." One of the medics frowned at this. "Edward was standing next to me. He pulled me out out the way. There was no place to go but under the truck." She looked up at me as if to confirm her story. I gave tight smile in response. I still didn't trust myself to take a breath.
Bella started to walked away from the scene, dragging me with her. What? Bella dragging me? Once we were away from the crowd, she pulled at my arm. She was really strong, but that wasn't the reason I gave in to her unspoken command.
"You hit your head," I said. For some reason, I felt protective towards this human girl.
"I can't go to the hospital," Bella insisted with a stubborn tone, as if she were a meek kitten that thought it was a tiger. In Bella, I saw a stubborn, fragile human who refused to shy away from me. Her reactions did disturbed me. Shouldn't she be scared of me? Why does it seem like she is fascinated by me? Why am I fascinated by her? Why is she doing this to me?
"Yes you can," I said.
"I'm not going, and you can't make me," Bella said.
Bella
"I'm not going, and you can't make me," I said. As much as it hurt to turn away from Edward, I forced myself to do just that. I walked away from Edward, and as soon as I out of eyesight, I ran faster than any human could.
Looking back, I made sure no one saw me. I figured Charlie would would be here soon. Sorry to leave a big mess for you to clean up Charlie. I closed my eyes, wincing as my past blasted me through my almond shaped, brownish eyes. Races with Marc, Jace, and Ethan. Ryan deserting our family and betraying Faythe. My eyes had been forced open to this thought.
I tried not to think about any of it. I tried not to think of the humans I hated because of their trivial thoughts. They took their lives for granted. Jessica and Mike particularly got on my nerve. Why? It didn't made sense. They had everything anyone could ever dream of. And then a small inner voice whispered the answer. They were normal.
You have to understand, I tend to get restless from time to time. I leave my thoughts stranded. My mind is a desert, and I am lost at sea. I am trapped in a world that I do not understand and this is what I was given: paws. I love it, sometimes more than I should. I love the thrill of hunting, as painful as shifting is. It is, in a way, meditation.
Marc is a stray. Don't get me wrong, we all love him. None of us treated him as a stray. When he was fourteen, a vicious werecat killed his mom. Marc got in the way, trying to defend his mom, and the werecat scratched Mac's chest through his paper-thin t-shirt.
Not all humans make it through scratch fever. Most die. Those who survive are ostracized by the cat world, they must stay in the free zones. They are social outcasts. Their humanity was ripped from them, but they were not born were-cats. I have the genetics, but I am not stubborn. My father took Marc in. I was a child at the time; so was Faythe. Sometimes we forget that Marc is a stray. We didn't treat him like a stray. We treated him like he is a genetic were-cat Even though I don't love him, I do miss him. I hope Faythe comes to her senses soon.
Living here I had taste of his pain. I was never ostracized, but here in Forks, I feel that way. But this is my choice, and I don't regret it. This is my independence streak, my rebellion. Sometimes I miss my family. Sometimes I miss my Pride (A/N: Pride is the same thing as Pack but cats use Pride).
The next day was sunny. The weather was too nice out to surpass a chance to sneak away in my cat form. I'm sure Charlie won't care if I skip school one day. After what happen yesterday, I know he would understand. That was if he even found out. What he didn't know will not hurt me. Charlie isn't a curious cat. That's probably why he's safer than most of the toms I know.
I stared out my window and watch the reds, oranges, and yellows collide. Even today, I am mesmerized by every sunrise. Here in Forks I wanted to see every sunrise. The constant rain would block out the radiant beauty of the sun.
I climbed out of bed and pried my old window open with my long strong finger nails. I jumped out of my second story window and landed in a crouch.
My lithe limbs practically buried in tall, wet, itchy green grass. I snickered to myself. It rained to much in Forks. Even on a sunny day it was still wet
Today feels different. I can sense it deep in my bones. Something will happen today. Something is changing in the air. I can sense it. Feel it. I don't know what, and I don't know how. Maybe I was just fooling myself. I think the same thing almost every day. "Something's going to change," I would say, but nothing ever does. Today feels different this morning. Almost off. Or like a dream you know you had, but can't remember.
I love what I am. I love being a werecat Never doubt that. I am not a lost runaway. I am not in Forks to shelter myself from the weird. I do not wish I was human, most of the time. I dislike most humans. No, that's not right either. I love my fur and I'm damn fond of my claws. My freedom.
I realized that I was still wearing my pajamas. It was 6 a.m. in the morning. Reluctantly, I climbed back up the wall and back through my open window. I scrambled back into my room and sighed. I wish I didn't have to stay with Charlie. It would be cool to live in the forest, in my cat form….
…the wild calls me. It sings to me. When I was little, I was a wild child. I still am a wild child. The only difference is, I'm not a child. I'm seventeen. Time passes slowly, sitting in my bedroom reading one of my favorite novels, Tess of D'Urbervilles by Thomas Hardy. I have read it fifty-some times and it never gets old. I pick up the worn-out, over read paperback and read the lyrical passages fondly, anticipating the bittersweet end. Death, oh death. Everything ends in death. I smile, accepting who I am, what I am. I am an animal, and animals die.
"Good morning, Charlie," I say, running down the stairs, smiling. It is 7 a.m. I open the starch white refrigerator and find myself holding a stale bagel. I would much rather eat a wild deer. I put the bagel back and grab a raspberry yogurt. The shift is painful, and takes a lot of energy – if I want to hunt today, then I can't skip breakfast. Ironic, huh?
"How are you finding Forks High school so far?" Charlie asks.
"Its fine," I say, sitting down at the round dark oaken table, taking the silver seal off of my yogurt. I sprint to the silverware drawer to grab a spoon and then I feast on my yogurt – a prelude to a bigger feast. I think about the unknown. I smile. It has been too long, too long. Today is going to be fun.