AN: I do not own anything except Estelle. Unfortunately, Stephanie Meyer does. Also, this fic is largely inspired by the fanfiction Devilish Thoughts in Angelic Minds by SiriussupermarioBlack. Check it out, it's incredible! Peter's gift is fanon as far as I know. AND I have a tumblr for this fic that has updates and posts in relation to this fic such as art, edits and pictures I use as inspiration. I hope you check it out! Ok, on to the fic!
Chapter One
Spring 2004
The night my life changed forever started out normal enough. Walking home after babysitting was a hassle, but Mom was on a date with her latest boyfriend, Phil, and had taken the car. On a regular old night I wouldn't have minded, but the Collins' had stayed out later than usual and I was bone tired after entertaining their daughter Brittany for hour after hour. She was a sweet girl, but a bit of a handful.
I was so lost in my thoughts that I hadn't even noticed I'd reached the darker parts of my way home – the places that always made me speed up my walking and clutch my bag closer to me. Some of the streetlights had gone out, too, and that didn't help my anxiety. If it had been earlier in the evening, I probably would have been fine, but the darkness made me nervous. Only moments later were my worries proved founded.
As I passed by an alley between two buildings, I heard movement. Then, before I could blink, arms wrapped around me from behind and the world whirled around me in sudden movement, too fast for comprehension. I didn't even have time to yelp in surprise. When I came to a stop, I was in the alleyway, and a man stood before me, casually leaning against the wall.
"You know, it's dangerous to go walking alone this late at night," he commented nonchalantly. I stared at him in shock, my breath deepening into gasps of horror. How had he gotten me into the alley so fast?
The man tilted his head in curiosity, staring at me. He seemed to sigh – or maybe inhale? Then he spoke again.
"That's funny. Your scent is diluted. It's so subtle I almost can't make it out. But blood is blood, and that's all that matters to me," he shrugged. I froze in fear.
"Blood?" I asked through stiff lips.
He hummed absently in agreement. My eyes had finally adjusted to the darkness, and I could make him out better now. He had scruffy brown hair and was wearing sturdy clothes – the kind you would see on a hitchhiker or backpacker. Then there were his eyes. A dull burgundy, they gazed at me hungrily. I had never seen eyes like that.
He took a leisurely step towards me. "I'm curious, though," he muttered to himself, "how you'll taste?"
Finally, my survival instincts kicked in and I stumbled back a step, intending to run for it. Unfortunately, he was in front of me in the next second, a vice-like grip around the back of my head holding me in place.
"Don't worry," he murmured, "I'll make it quick." And then he sunk his teeth into my neck.
I went to scream at the excruciating pain but he quickly placed his hand over my mouth to muffle any sound. Struggling, I shoved again and again against his chest to try and wretch myself out of his grip, to no avail. Soon, though, I grew too weak to continue. He was literally sucking the life out of me.
It was then that I resigned myself to the fact that I was going to die. With a hazy consciousness, I thought of my mom, who I loved but had a sometimes strained relationship with. I thought of my younger twin, Bella – my best friend since birth. I thought of my dad, who had always been there for me, despite the distance. I was leaving them all behind, probably without answers. Tears welled in my eyes.
Then, to my surprise, I heard a pair of fierce growls coming from the entryway of the alley. The man detached himself from my neck and dropped me to the ground – I was too weak to stand. He whipped around to see what had interrupted his feeding, then lowered his body into a crouch, a hiss escaping his bloody lips.
I gingerly turned my head to see what was going on. If this was some innocent passerby, they needed to run. Nothing could save them from this man. But instead, it was an inhumanly beautiful couple – a male and female. They were clearly like the man who had attacked me with their burgundy eyes and pale features. Had they come to challenge him for a meal?
But it didn't seem like it. The male bared his teeth at my attacker and then rushed him, too fast for my eyes to follow. He was backing him deeper into the alleyway, herding him away from me. The girl – and she was a girl, only a few years older than me – quickly made her way over to me. I tried to crawl away, but I couldn't push myself up off the dirty concrete. She crouched down next to me, making shushing noises and brushing back my bloody hair to examine the gorge in my neck. Her cool hand felt nice against my hot skin, so I leant into it against my better instincts. It felt too nice.
Then the burning began. I whimpered, trying to hold in a cry of pain. But it just kept getting hotter and hotter, like fire where I was bitten.
"It's burning," I whispered to her through tears. Her red eyes widened and she glanced up in the direction of the fight that seemed to be winding down somehow. In some distant part of my brain, I heard a metallic screeching sound, and a cry of pain.
"Peter, the venom," the girl said in a soft, yet urgent tone. I heard another screech, and then silence. A male voice was suddenly on my other side, talking to his partner.
"Can you take care of the pieces? I think–," he hesitated, but continued. "–I think I can suck out the venom." By now I couldn't keep my eyes open, and was twitching slightly in pain. But I tried to pay attention to what the two were saying.
"Peter!" The girl's voice was shocked, and I also detected worry, though for what I didn't know.
"Her blood is oddly subtle. I can handle it. We don't have time to argue about this, Charlotte!" he told her sharply. Then, she left my side. Peter, I assumed, took her place on my right.
"Hey, kid." he whispered gently as lifted me into his arms swiftly. He adjusted my weight to one arm and with the other swept my hair over my other shoulder.
"I'm going to make the fire go away," he promised me. Then he added "One way or another," to himself in a self-deprecating manner. I heard a hiss from deep in the alley.
"Please." I begged. I just wanted the pain to stop.
Instead of taking a deep breath to steady himself, it seemed as if he held it. Then, he leaned down and latched onto the open wound on my neck.
At first the fire only increased, and I couldn't help but let out a scream of pain and terror. Had it all been a ruse? Was he just going to end my life like the other man intended to? But then, slowly and surely, the fire and pain receded until all that was left was an aching body and a tired mind. Even the wound in my neck didn't seem so bad now. I was so exhausted I didn't even realize that he had drawn away from me and was wiping his mouth with the back of his sleeve. Instead of its previous dark burgundy, his eyes were now blazing scarlet.
The girl named Charlotte was now back at our side. Through hazy eyes, I saw her kiss his cheek proudly.
"Thank you," I slurred tearfully. I was so out of it, I could barely say the words, but I knew they needed to be said. They had saved my life. Peter chuckled.
"Just stay awake a bit longer, kid. Then you can thank us. Char, call 911. She's lost a lot of blood."
I could hear a brief murmuring from Charlotte and a buzzing sound that I half-comprehended as someone on the other line of a cell phone.
"We found her in the alleyway on Sycamore St. Please hurry, she's clearly lost blood and is in critical condition," she said. Then I heard the cell phone flip closed.
By now, I was on the brink of unconsciousness, and I'm sure they could tell. Just as I fell over the precipice of sleep, I felt cool lips on my forehead.
"Rest now, hun. We'll watch over you." Then, I knew no more.
…
Consciousness crept up on me slowly. As my eyes fluttered open, I took in my surroundings. I was laying on a thin yet lumpy mattress that had rails on each side of the bed. The sterile scent of antiseptic filled the air. Overhead were bright fluorescent lights that gave me a headache due to my sensitive eyes. My entire body ached, and quickly the memories of the attack flooded my brain.
I was surprised at how much I remembered. But before I could really let my mind wander, I heard a surprised squeak and looked over to see a wide-eyed Bella staring at me from the couch across the room. She quickly threw down her worn copy of Pride and Prejudice, tears welling in her eyes as she tripped over herself to get to my side.
A smile broke over my face at the sight of her. She made a whimpering noise in the back of her throat as she practically lunged across the room to make it to me. I chuckled softly, but it hurt my aching body so I quickly stopped.
"Hey, Bells," I greeted hoarsely. When she reached my side, she went to grip my hand. She held it tightly, and I intertwined our fingers like we used to do when we were little.
"When we got that call, I thought…" she whispered, not finishing the horrible sentence. I thought back to how I felt, realizing I would never see my family again. I shuddered slightly, then tried for a smile.
"You didn't think you could get rid of me that easily, did you? Face it; you're stuck with me, Bella." She hiccuped a watery laugh. We were quiet for a moment, just grateful for each other's company. Finally, I spoke again.
"Where is Mom?" I asked. Bella glanced at the door, then back to me.
"Cafeteria. I think she was going to call Phil, too. The flowers are from him, by the way," she added, nodding to a beautiful yellow bouquet. I was touched by the gesture from my mother's boyfriend.
"Charlie's flying down tomorrow as well," she told me. I perked up at that.
"Dad's coming?" Bella smiled softly, but with a tinge of sadness.
"Well, yeah, Dummy." Her face turned serious. "Do you remember what happened?" she asked me.
I had never lied to Bella before. We told each other everything – every insecurity, every secret. But whatever had happened that night had not been natural, and was obviously not widely known to the public. I had an inkling of who – or rather what – had attacked me. And, again, what had saved me. I owed Peter and Charlotte my life, so I would keep this secret for them. Even from my twin.
I painfully shrugged one shoulder, then winced. It twinged the wound on my neck that now had a large patch of gauze covering it.
"I don't know, Bella. I just remember being hit hard on the back of the head, and then…nothing." Bella scrutinized me for a moment before evidently deciding I had no reason to lie to her. I felt the guilt weigh at the bottom of my stomach like a rock, but kept my face straight.
I was a much better liar than my sister, thankfully. I had to retell my fabricated story about a million more times that day. To the Phoenix Police, to my mother, to nurses, to doctors, to my Dad over the phone. I was exhausted by the time the day was over and everyone had gone home.
Visiting hours had just ended. Bella had put up an incredible fight to stay the night with me, but in the end lost. I was slightly disappointed as well, but decided I might be better off with some peace and quiet in the end. Rest helps you heal faster, and all that.
I was ready to let sleep envelop me when I felt the air stir and a presence suddenly in the room. My eyes shot open, and I propped myself up on my arm to see the room better. Standing near the foot of my bed were Peter and Charlotte.
Despite the dim lighting, I could see them better now than I could in the alleyway. Peter was easily the most beautiful man I had ever seen, though not quite my type. He looked to be in his early twenties, with a sturdy but slim build. He had shocking white-blonde hair that was stylishly messy, and his eyes were just as red as I remembered, if not moreso.
Charlotte was so beautiful I could cry. With her rounded face, high cheekbones, and petite stature, she looked like a life-size porcelain doll. Her ruby eyes twinkled in the moonlight through the window. She, too, had white-blonde hair – hers styled in a cute bob. Both of them had skin as pale as fresh fallen snow.
I was shocked, but thrilled to see them. I didn't care what they were – I needed to thank them properly for saving my life, no matter their motives.
"Hi," I breathed, almost afraid that if I spoke too loud, they would disappear.
Peter grinned back charmingly. "Hey, kid," he replied. Charlotte smiled back at me shyly, but said nothing.
"Before you say anything," I pushed forward, wanting to make my intentions known, "I wanted to thank you for saving my life the other night." They seemed surprised at my abrupt exclamation, then touched.
"You already thanked us, hun," Charlotte reminded me softly. I shook my head.
"I was half-drained of blood and nearly unconscious. That doesn't count," I argued. The pair chuckled softly at my denial. Peter grinned playfully at me.
"Well, you're mighty welcome," he conceded. I raised an eyebrow at his phrasing and clear southern accent, but decided not to question him on it.
"Not that I'm not grateful to see you, but why are you here?" I asked curiously.
"Don't cha remember, hun? We promised to look over you. And we may not be human, but we keep our word," she replied, playfully indignant. I smiled at that, but when I looked over at Peter, he was frowning.
"Plus, you deserved some answers. Whether you like it or not, you're part of this world now," he warned. A shiver went up the back of my spine, but it wasn't anything I hadn't already guessed. I nodded solemnly.
Charlotte hesitated, then came and sat on the end of my bed. I scooched up my legs to make room, and she smiled at me in return.
"So, what have you told them about the attack?" Peter questioned. I looked from Charlotte to him.
"I said someone hit me on the back of the head and knocked me out, and that I don't remember anything else. Because I doubt anyone would believe me if I told them that I was actually attacked by vampires," I felt a little thrill at finally acknowledging the word to myself, let alone saying it out loud.
Peter chuckled darkly. "I had a feeling you were clever. So, what now?" I sat up straighter in interest.
"Well, I do have a few questions. You don't seem like the run-of-the-mill Bram Stoker villain."
At that comment, Charlotte's angelic face lit up from her perch at the end of my bed and Peter groaned in annoyed manner, but eyed his partner with clear affection.
"Have you read it? I did once, as a human, and I remember enough to know it's very enjoyable."
I giggled at the irony, and shook my head, wincing as I accidentally jostled my wound.
"No, but now that you've suggested it, I definitely will," I assured her. Then something she said occurred to me.
"You used to be human?" I asked, curious. The smiles faded from Peter and Charlotte's faces.
"You don't have to tell me about it if you don't want to," I was quick to reassure. I didn't want to pry into something that was clearly a sensitive topic. Charlotte sighed and patted my leg from under their covers.
"You're sweet, hun. But you need answers. Yes, we were human once. The transformation is a painful one. You felt the beginning of it for yourself," she nodded in my direction to emphasize her point. I thought back to the blazing fire that spread throughout my neck after being bitten and shuddered.
"So it's a bite?" Peter took over for Charlotte, then.
"Yes. We have a venom coating our teeth that causes that burning you felt. It debilitates our prey with pain, as you can attest to," he frowned. Then, he continued. "If left to spread, it changes the cells in your body entirely until you're a newborn vampire."
"Newborn." I rolled the word on my tongue, imagining chubby-cheeked babies with dimples and fangs. Peter rolled his eyes at me, seeming to know where my mind had wandered.
"No, we called those the Immortal Children. That's a story for another time. Newborn vampires are what we call those who have only just been changed. Always under a year old. They're violent, bloodthirsty, and uncontrollable."
I shuddered at his description. From the faraway look in his eye, I had a feeling he had some personal history with these so-called "newborns", as well. Charlotte didn't look much better, but seemed to come around quicker. She squeezed my knee.
"We're not sayin' this to try and scare you, hun. You just need to know the facts," she tried to comfort me. I shot her a smile, letting her know I was okay. I then took a deep breath.
"I think the answer I want the most is why you saved me in the first place, I guess. I'm grateful, don't get me wrong," I was quick to reassure, "but why me?"
Peter and Charlotte exchanged a glance. Peter sighed.
"Some vampires have special abilities beyond those that come with being a vampire. Supernatural abilities, I suppose you could call them. I have one. I get these 'feelings'. Impressions of important future events. Now, don't mistake me for a psychic. I ain't no Alice!" he chuckled. I was enthralled, and absently wondered who Alice was and what she could do, but wondered where this was going. He continued.
"A few weeks ago, I felt the need to come to Arizona. We wandered the city for two weeks, not really knowing what to look for. Until the other night, when we stumbled across you," he smiled. I was still utterly confused.
"But why did the feeling tell you to save me?" Peter shrugged.
"Don't know. I've learned not to question it. Everything reveals itself in the end, I've found."
I nodded, unsure. Did that mean that I was meant to be a part of this supernatural world? I wasn't sure how I felt about that. Charlotte seemed to sense my unease.
"Don't worry too hard about it now, hun. Everything will work out in the end," she soothed. I let her chiming voice calm me.
I glanced at the clock on the wall. One forty-seven a.m. I yawned, and they chuckled.
"Rest now, Estelle," Charlotte cooed as she lifted herself gracefully off the bed and went to Peter's side. My eyebrow raised, though. I had never told them my name.
"It was on your driver's license," Peter chuckled, as if reading my mind. I laughed along with him at the obvious answer. But my exhaustion won over, and I yawned again. I pushed on, though.
"One more answer," I begged, like a toddler asking for another bedtime story. Peter rolled his eyes at my blatant childishness. Charlotte giggled and linked her fingers with his. I thought for a moment, trying to decide the most important question I had. Finally I smiled.
"Will I see you again?" Peter winked.
"You can count on it, kid."