The next few weeks I lived in a haze.

My brain still constantly repeats the memory of how, just when I started to think the patrols were enough to keep Victoria at bay, two policemen appeared at my door at the dead of night. Their earnest faces told me all I needed to know.

An animal attack they said, but I knew better. Dad had been called out to support with a situation in Seattle. Very irregular, and the agent under whose name the request was made has no recollection of making it. His car was then seen to be pushed off the road by a blurry but clearly very strong beast. It fell off a cliff and exploded shortly after, before emergency services could reach the wreck. There was nothing left to bury.

My family went to investigate and quickly picked up the smell of vampire tracks. They could easily identify Victoria's scent, but there was another unknown vampire with her. His/her smell had been found on patrol the week before, and confirmation that they are in league with Victoria is disconcerting.

As a proper burial is not possible for my father without a body, Carlisle suggests that I hold a memorial service for him instead. Esme quickly starts planning, and a large number of people from the local community reach out to help honor the chief that served their town so faithfully.

In the end it is tastefully done, unpretentious as I am sure dad would have wanted it. We rented out the small community recreation center, and many volunteers decorated it with such a superfluity of flowers and black streamers that the building is unrecognizable. There is an hour or so for speeches, then there is space to chat together in groups.

I wrote a heartfelt speech, but knew I would never be able to read it aloud without breaking down, so Jasper does that for me while I sob. He adds some words of his own, about how grateful he is to my father for bringing me into the world and how he hopes it will bring him some comfort in the beyond to know that his daughter will still be loved by plenty of people.

The rest of my family shares some words. His colleagues from the police corps tell some anecdotes, both of his bravery and some silly ones from the early days of his career. Minister Weber, my friend Angela's dad, puts his usual bible verses aside and recites some beautiful poetry. Mrs. Stanley, after a few drinks too many, hiccups out a retelling of how she lost her virginity to him in the early eighties in the back of a Toyota.

I am disappointed but not surprised that my mother and stepfather do not show up to the memorial service. Esme and Carlisle stand by my side instead.

I am disappointed and surprised that Billy Black does not show up to the memorial service. Being my father's best friend for decades was apparently not enough to weigh up against having to spend an afternoon in a room with vampires. Even when we took care to host the event on neutral ground and the vast majority of attendees are human.

The room is not entirely devoid of werewolves though. Sue Clearwater, the widow of dad's other good friend Harry has come, and her son Seth is with her for support. I last saw Seth about a year ago when I still hung out on the reservation with Jacob Black, and at the time he had been in his early teens. Now he is a full head taller than me, ripped like a professional bodybuilder, and looks over twenty. Only phasing into a wolf could achieve that.

Towards the end of the event I spy Carlisle quietly exchanging some words with the wolf on the edge of the room.

The day after the ceremony I officially move into the Cullen house. After this active attack from Victoria we collectively decide that it will be safer for me to live with the protection of the entire family.

I had been staying there already so they could take care of me in my grief, but now it is time to move my personal effects into my regular guest room which Esme had long since converted into a proper bedroom for me which, is exactly to my taste. Something feels very definitive about seeing my familiar books not stacked in my cramped room in dad's house, but displayed on the spacious shelves here.

Especially with the photo of my father positioned between my collection of Jane Austen paperbacks and a compilation of the complete works of William Shakespeare.

Staring at the picture I am suddenly driven to action. I shake my head as if to clear the fog from it and dash off to Jasper's study.

"I think we should move up the timeline for my change."

He frowns at my sudden declaration. "But you wanted to..."

"Wait until my mid-twenties, yes.", I cut him off. "That was because I do not want to be frozen as a teenager forever. With the processed blood I don't have to be though."

I sit down in the spare chair and explain my reasoning. "Victoria killed my f-father. That means we now know that it is specifically me she is targeting. Or at least me first. As a human I am vulnerable. I know that as a newborn vampire I will be uncontrolled, that I won't immediately be a good fighter, but at least she won't be able to snap me in half with her pinky finger anymore."

Jasper carefully regards me, and strokes one of his long pale fingers across the back of my hand.

"Your point is not unreasonable. Should Victoria attack again, then moving you between hiding spots would be much harder as a deranged newborn as opposed to a cooperative human, but that risk is largely negated by the advantage you state of your reduced vulnerability. Moreover, if we start you on processed blood immediately there is a good chance you can skip out on most of the newborn bloodlust craziness."

"But?", I ask him, as I sense there is more to it.

"But I am concerned about turning you so quickly after the emotional shock you just had with Charlie's death." He pauses a moment before he explains.

"Edward has... Issues. As you are surely aware. Carlisle has several theories about their origins. One is that he was changed too young, as a volatile teenager. Another is that he was changed in the middle of the Spanish flu pandemic. For weeks he would have been hearing news of his friends dropping down left and right, reading rising death tolls in the papers. Then at the culmination of that trauma and dragging anxiety he loses both his parents before dying himself. If vampire bodies are frozen, are their brains as well? Do the neural pathways that form the personality remain as they ever were, or can we grow? I will never forgive Edward for his treatment of you, but at least I could somewhat understand why he acts that way if he is perpetually frozen in a state of shock and despair."

I frown. Perpetually frozen in a state of shock and despair sounds like a fairly accurate description of Edward's behavior.

Jasper swallows thickly. "Rosalie had issues as well. You know her story, she was deeply traumatized by the violent sexual assault that she suffered. Meeting Emmett only marginally improved it. She has been doing much better since her pregnancy started, but Carlisle, Emmett and I wonder if she is merely relatively feeling better for being able to have a child, or if her brain is actually processing the trauma and healing it now. The same goes for Esme. While she had more time to work through her trauma, it literally drove her to suicide and she was turned into a vampire in the middle of an attempt. I can feel her emotional climate becoming more stable, but I cannot be sure why. With only two such test cases and a fairly short experiment I would rather you give yourself a little longer to mourn."

Jasper looks in my direction, but his eyes stare a thousand yards into the distance.

"Ultimately it is your choice.", he finally says. "I would not take that from you. And if you wish it I will be the one to change you. I would not hold that over your head to force your hand." The 'unlike some people' is implicit in his words. "But please look at all the angles before you do something irreversible."

Carefully I consider his words. I had always hated how Edward dictated my life, especially where the matter of me changing into a vampire was concerned. I had to put that aside, as this situation was very different. Jasper did not deny me. He promised to comply even if he advised against it. Most importantly, his arguments all originated with care for my wellbeing, not some overinflated moral code that he imposed on me.

"All right.", I say softly. "I'll give it some time."

He kisses me softly. Not a kiss of passion, but one to convey all his love and support in a way that words just can't.


Author's note : The story got a bit more convoluted than initially intended, as I got inspiration to expand the Victoria and Volturi subplots. I have now drafted the full outline, which shall be about 30 chapters.