Jacob and I arrive at Newton's Olympic Outfitters shortly after Alice let me borrow some of her clothes. It may be practically summer, but even with the clothes I wear, I can still feel the chill in the air. A gray tank top covers my upper chest, a green jacket on top of that, and matching tight green jeans shows off the slenderness of my legs. Black boots reach up to my mid-calves, protecting my pants from getting soaked from the unpredictable weather.
As we pull into the parking lot, I notice that Newton's Olympic Outfitters is a decently sized sporting goods store. One of the few larger buildings in Forks that I have seen. Quite a few cars congest the parking spaces and I assume it's because it's almost tourist season.
Jacob pulls up to the front of the tall building, parking the bike right outside the doors and kicking the stand to hold up the bike. I climb off and watch as Jacob swings his leg off the motorbike and comes to stand next to me.
"We need a bow, right?" He asks, his eyes looking up at the sign.
"Yeah. I don't know if there is a specific one we should look for but a bow I can use at least."
Jacob gently takes my hand, his fingers intertwining with mine, and guides me through the sliding doors. It smells like a sports store, the strong scent of new materials like plastic and leather. Just from the entrance, I can see where the bows are located and I point with my free hand in that direction.
We take a turn and walk down an empty aisle to the side wall where the bows are hung up. There are many different types and it comes to a surprise that I know what some of these are: a few different compound bows, a couple of barebows, and a few recurve bows.
Jacob lets go of my hand to look over the dangling pamphlets that describe what each bow is used for and its level of difficulty. While he's reading I glance around for the arrows and see none in sight.
"I am going to ask if they have any arrows in the back," I say, running my hand down Jacob's back. I am not sure he can even feel it through the thickness of his leather jacket. He nods none-the-less, turning his head to smile at me before going back to reading.
I walk down the side aisle towards the back of the store where the counter and register is. It's not hard to find, the layout of this store is typical. When I reach the glass counter there are no customers waiting to pay or ask for help. As I approach, I notice the young man behind the register is familiar to me. His blonde hair that is slightly spiked up and his blue eyes, are of that of Mike from the movie theater. The last time I saw him, he was very ill, and even ran out of the theater to vomit. I hadn't seen or heard about him since.
As I come up to the counter, Mike perks up, and a large smile stretches across his face. He's much more chippery than when I last saw him.
"Hello," he says, waving. "Can I help you with anything?"
"Hello Mike," I smile weakly.
His eyebrows knit together. "Do we know each other?"
"You don't remember me?" I ask. I am not even the tiniest bit hurt or surprised. He was very sick and his eyes hardly left Bella.
"You'd think I'd remember a face like yours," his smile widens, showing off his white teeth.
My smile falls. I am not sure how to respond to that. I shake my head and focus on the reason I came up to the counter. "Do you have any arrows in the back?"
"I am sure we do. Do you practice archery? Or a hunter?" He asks, wiggling his brows.
"Practicing archery."
"So, how do we know each other?" Mike asks, leaning on the counter with both hands on the edge.
"I was with Bella and Jacob at the movie theater with you, several months back."
His smile disappears and his expression turns thoughtful. His eyes linger behind me for a split second before they return to gaze back at me. "Oh yeah! You're the girl with the amnesia."
"Yeah, that's me."
"Did you move here or are you visiting? I didn't see you at Forks High School, and I don't think you went to the school on the reservation." It looks like his eyes are sparkling from the lights above and it makes me a little uncomfortable. I glance behind my shoulder in search of Jacob, but he's nowhere in sight.
"Just moved here."
Mike nods, his smile returning. "You should come to the bonfire in La Push tonight, it's on the beach. You can get to know a few other residents."
"Oh, I don't-"
"Wow," he interrupts. "I can't believe I didn't notice how beautiful you are until I met you again. You seriously could be a model."
My fingers reach up to my cheek, brushing over my warm flesh in surprise to his compliment. Why is he being so blunt? And why hasn't he gone to get the arrows yet? I try to remain pleasant. "T-thank you."
"So, do you want to go to the bonfire? Possibly, with me?"
"You're asking me out?" I ask, a little taken aback. He's very straightforward.
"Yeah, I mean, if you want to consider it like that," Mike rubs the back of his neck with one hand, a cheesy smile on his face.
"I am so…."
"I think I found the right bow," I hear Jacob say. I look over my shoulder to see him rounding the corner of the side aisle. He pauses when he notices our postures, mine leaning a little back from the counter and Mike leaning forward on the glass. I hope he reads that I am uncomfortable. His eyes narrow and he slowly makes his way to me, placing a hand on my lower back. "Did you get the arrows?" He asks, but his eyes are on Mike.
Jacob doesn't have a bow with him, they must be tied up so no one can steal.
Mike stands straight, the smile fading away, and his eyes slightly narrowing. "Oh, hey. Your name was Jacob, right?"
"Yeah, and you are?"
Mike frowns and he takes a step back from the counter. "You don't remember me? It's Mike, from the movie theater? Back when Bella invited us?"
"The marshmallow?" His hand pressing against my back gets stronger, and I can feel the slightest tremors.
"Excuse me?" Mike asks, slightly taken aback.
"Those arrows," I mention. "Can I have some?"
"What bow do you want?" He asks, slightly turning towards a door behind him.
I look up at Jacob for an answer, noticing his lips parted as he tries to breathe calmly.
"The Sage Traditional Recurve Bow," Jacob states.
"Right, okay." Mike enters the backroom, disappearing as the door shuts behind him.
Jacob drops his hand, turning his back to the counter and leaning against it with his arms crossed. "What was that about?"
"He hardly remembered me from the night we went to the theater. He said he's surprised he didn't remember my face because of how beautiful I am, and that I should be a model. He also invited me to go to a bonfire in La Push," I try to say as casually as possible so as not to anger him anymore than he already is.
"He's not wrong - you are beautiful. Honestly, the most beautiful girl I've ever laid eyes on," he smirks.
"Liar," I hiss playfully. I match his demeanor by crossing my arms.
He chuckles and shakes his head. "Why would I lie?"
I am quickly reminded that he's imprinted on me. Part of me feels bad that it is almost like he's forced into having some sort of emotion for me, whether you'd call it love or infatuation. But the other part of me is selfish and greedy. This handsome young man has feelings for me that no others can gain. He'll always be mine, if I choose it. His love won't change no matter who I am - if I am an enemy or an ally. It makes me feel secure and happy. I'll always have someone in my corner. Regardless, it seems he may not have a choice.
"Hey," Jacob earns my attention. I must have lost myself in my thoughts. "You okay?" He asks. He lifts my chin with his right pointer finger and examines my face.
"Yeah, just thinking."
"About?"
The door opens and Mike comes out with both the bow, which is black, and a quiver with arrows. He glances at the both of us and rings us up at the register.
"You should try to relive the memory," Carlisle suggests.
I nod, the recurve bow in my left hand and the arrow in my right. I glance around at my audience. Carlisle, Esme, Emmett, and Jacob keep behind me. Esme has a warm smile on her beautiful face; she stands beside Carlisle who is a shy distance away from me. Emmett grins from on top of the deck, his arms crossed and an amused expression on his face. Jacob is on my right side, a foot away so not to get in the way of me shooting.
The target is on a tree about thirty feet away. Not too far and not to close. It's a thin piece of paper with a black target on the front, it waves slightly in the wind from where it hangs on the tree.
With the bow in my left hand and the arrow in the other, I feel completely at ease. Holding this weapon feels right - like I've done it a hundred times before.
I stand perpendicular from the target, I lift the bow with my hand on the handle and my arm slightly bent and parallel to the ground. My right hand brings up the arrow, where I clip it to the bow string and rest the arrow comfortably underneath the nocking point. My right hand pulls the arrow and string back to the anchor point which is just a tad bit past the corner of my lips. One finger is above the arrow, and two below. I release within a few seconds of when I pull the arrow back and the arrow slices through the air and directly into the center of the target.
The target and the tree bark behind it, explodes, sending splinters to the ground and destroying the paper until it rips half off its hanging point.
My eyes narrow and I am left lost. I know I don't have the strength to be able to do that much damage, and neither can the bow. So….How come I was able to destroy the mark as much as I did?
"Direct hit on the first try," Jacob says with a smile.
"You had some power behind that shot, abnormal power. Shouldn't expect less from a demi-god," Carlisle states. "Did you see anything? Any memory?"
I shake my head and frown. I lower the bow and walk to the arrow that's stuck in the tree. My hand runs along the length of the shaft of the arrow until I reach the middle and try to tug the arrow out. As I do, my whole being feels heavy and my brain fogs. My vision blurs around the edges until it takes over my sight completely.
He stands tall, wearing a gold muscle cuirass that protects his chest, front and back. A laurel wreath decorates the center of the bronze plating. There is a linen cuirass beneath the bronze breastplate that cuts short on the sleeves and runs down his lower body to just above his kneecaps. His helmet covers the entirety of his head except for the eyes, nose, and mouth that has a T-shape opening. A pair of bronze greaves protect his lower legs with matching bronze metal covered boots.
His celestial blue eyes are familiar to me, my father. He holds a bow in his left hand and an arrow in his right, very much like I had. And behind him, I stand with my mother, her eyes wide open with fear as she cradles me to her side. I couldn't be older than seven.
We're out in the forest somewhere, nowhere I recognize, and I can sense something coming.
A tall, long blonde hair male with piercing red eyes and pale skin, approaches us from up ahead. A wide grin shows off his perfectly shaped white teeth. He's wearing a heavy black cloak and underneath he wears a pair of black pants and shirt.
"Ah, ah, aaah. Non ego operor illud. [I wouldn't do that.]" The man warns in a thick ancient accent that I am somehow able to understand.
My father doesn't heed the man's warning. He brings his bow up and notches the arrow. "Solum relinquatis mea. [Leave my family alone.]"
"Daddy," I cry out, tugging away from my mother's grasping arms. She pulls me back into her side and runs her hands down my hair.
"Don't worry, your father never misses," she hisses, glaring at the still approaching threat.
This only makes the man smile. "Quod youll 'animadverto nobis. [We'll see about that.]"
My father releases the arrow, it whistles through the air at such a speed that it's near invisible, but in a millisecond, the man disappears, reappearing behind my father. Before my father can make any sudden movement, the man tears the helmet off his head, grips the curly blonde hair of my father, and pulls his head back.
My father throws back his right hand towards us, where coming from his palm glows a brilliant yellow light. The sound of a vacuum comes from behind us, where I glance to see a yellow portal opening up. My mother starts to pull me back towards the portal but my eyes focus back on the man and my father. I struggle to get free but my mother is stronger.
The man unsheathes a dagger from his waist, once hidden behind his cloak, and cuts my father's head clean off with a single drag. My father's heavy body collides with the ground, the metal breast plate tinning when it lands on a few rocks. Blood doesn't squirt out from the exit wound. My father's head and neck looks like it's made out of marble.
I scream at the top of my lungs, reaching out towards his lifeless body. The man slowly turns his head towards us with a wicked grin.
"Quis fiducia? [Whose next?]"
I'm ripped out of the memory by my own scream, my legs buckling under me and my knees colliding into the earth below. Tears trail down my cheeks uncontrollably. The arrow is no longer in my hand but still plunged deep into the tree.
Jacob is at my side in seconds, wrapping his arms around me tightly, his hand brings my head to his shoulder as I wail.
I didn't see him approach, but Carlisle is on the other side of me from Jacob, I can now sense his being like I sensed the vampire in the memory.
"He killed him!" I shout into Jacob's leather jacket. "He killed my father!"
"Who? Who killed your father?" Carlisle asks.
"A vampire!"