The five days leading up to Bella's arrival were a blur of controlled chaos and quiet discovery. I spent most of my daylight hours under the perpetual grey canopy of the Olympic Peninsula, pushing the limits of my new form. The sheer power thrumming beneath my skin was intoxicating. I could outrun a deer without breaking a sweat, my footsteps virtually silent on the forest floor. Trees that had once seemed like stoic giants were now convenient leverage points or, if I was feeling particularly destructive, punching bags that splintered under my fists without a hint of recoil damage.
My crimson eyes were the biggest immediate problem. They weren't just red; they glowed with a faint, unnatural light, especially in dim conditions. Sunglasses became my constant companions, even indoors if the lighting was low. I'd feigned a sudden onset of light sensitivity to Charlie, who'd just grunted and told me to see a doctor if it got worse. Bless his oblivious heart.
Feeding was…an experience. Animal blood satiated the Thirst, that deep, resonant ache in my chest, but it was like drinking tap water when you craved a vintage wine. It did the job, but it lacked a certain… piquancy. The memory of that single drop of Charlie's blood, and the imagined scent of human blood in general, was a far more alluring whisper at the back of my mind. I pushed it down. Control. That was the watchword. God, or Bob, or whatever had granted my wishes, had given me the tools. It was up to me to wield them responsibly. Mostly.
My hemokinesis was rapidly becoming my favorite party trick, albeit one I could only perform in private. I practiced on water first, then moved to the blood from my hunts. I could draw it from a fresh kill without even touching it, shaping it into hovering spheres, tendrils, even intricate, fleeting sculptures before letting it fall. The control was exquisite, like conducting an orchestra with my mind. I even managed to 'encourage' a splinter out of my palm by subtly manipulating the blood flow around it until it popped free. Handy.
Charlie remained blissfully unaware that his son had become something straight out of a monster movie. I played the part of Alex Swan – quiet, a little sarcastic, helpful around the house. The memories of this Alex, the human one, were fully integrated now, a comfortable layer over my original consciousness. It was…odd. I genuinely felt affection for Charlie, a man I'd only known through these implanted memories for less than a week, yet it felt as real as any emotion I'd had in my previous life.
The day Bella was due to arrive, the air in the Swan residence was thick with a peculiar mix of Charlie's awkward anticipation and my own carefully concealed vigilance. He'd actually attempted to use a vacuum cleaner, an event so rare it bordered on the miraculous.
"You think she'll… like it here?" Charlie asked, nervously fiddling with the collar of his police uniform. He was picking her up from Port Angeles after his shift.
I leaned against the doorframe of the kitchen, sunglasses firmly in place despite the gloomy morning. "Dad, it's Forks. It rains nine months of the year, and the most exciting thing to happen recently was a seagull stealing Old Man Hemlock's dentures. She'll be ecstatic."
He shot me a look, half-annoyed, half-amused. "You got a real smart mouth on you, Al."
"Inherited trait, I suspect," I said with a smirk. I was already thinking ahead. Bella's arrival was the starting pistol for the whole chaotic saga. The Cullens. Edward. The scent of her blood, which Meyer had practically described as a siren song for vampires. How would I react? I was different, supposedly without the weaknesses, but human blood still called to a primal part of me. Especially, I suspected, her blood.
I spent the afternoon doing a final sweep of the woods behind the house, pushing my senses to their limits. I could hear the scuttle of a beetle fifty yards away, smell the damp earth and the distant tang of the ocean. My vision could pick out individual pine needles on trees a quarter-mile off. It was overwhelming if I didn't filter, but exhilarating when I focused.
When Charlie's cruiser finally crunched up the gravel driveway later that evening, I was waiting on the porch, hands in the pockets of my jacket. The rain had started, a typical Forks drizzle. My enhanced senses picked her up before I saw her. The quick, slightly irregular thump of her heartbeat. The faint, unique scent of her – lavender and freesia from some kind of soap, the underlying smell of warm skin, and beneath it all, the subtle, incredibly sweet, intoxicating aroma of her blood.
It hit me like a physical blow, a wave of pure, unadulterated hunger that made the Thirst for animal blood seem like a polite suggestion. My non-existent fangs ached. My crimson eyes, hidden behind the dark lenses, probably flared. I took a slow, deliberate breath, wrestling the instinct down. Control, Alex. You are not a mindless beast.
The cruiser door opened, and Bella Swan unfolded herself from the passenger seat. She looked… exactly like I remembered from the books and films, filtered through the lens of Alex Swan's memories. Pale skin, long brown hair, a familiar awkwardness in her movements as she nearly tripped stepping onto the driveway.
Charlie was already out, looking like a man about to defuse a very delicate, very clumsy bomb. "Careful there, Bells."
"I'm good, Dad," she mumbled, her cheeks flushing.
Then she saw me. Her eyes, big and chocolate brown, widened slightly. "Alex?"
I pushed off the porch railing, offering a lazy smile. "The one and only. Welcome to the land of eternal dampness, sis." I kept my voice light, the sarcasm familiar from Alex Swan's established personality.
She managed a small, shy smile back. "Hey."
I moved to grab one of her bags, my movements deliberately human-speed. Even so, the light duffel bag felt like it was filled with feathers. The proximity amplified her scent, and I had to consciously unclench my jaw. This was going to be a challenge. Her blood didn't just smell good; it smelled like salvation and sin wrapped in one irresistible package. I understood Edward's struggle on a visceral level now, even if my physiology was different.
"You've grown," she observed, looking me up and down as we walked towards the house.
"It's the clean living and constant precipitation," I quipped. "Does wonders for the complexion too, as you can see." I gestured vaguely to my face, hoping the sunglasses were doing their job. Alex Swan had always been a bit pale, but my current complexion was something else entirely.
Inside, the house felt smaller with three people in it. Bella looked around the familiar living room, a mixture of nostalgia and apprehension on her face. Charlie was hovering, bless him.
"Your room's the same as you remember," he said, gesturing upstairs. "Alex cleared some space for your extra stuff if you need it."
"Thanks, Alex," she said, glancing at me.
"No problem. Figured you'd bring half of Arizona with you."
Her room was…small. And very yellow, thanks to Charlie's attempt at decorating years ago. I leaned against the doorframe as she took it in. I could hear the faint creak of the floorboards under her feet, the whisper of her clothes as she moved, the accelerated beat of her heart as she surveyed her new, confined world.
"It's… yellow," she stated, which was probably the most diplomatic thing she could say.
"Dad's got a real eye for interior design," I commented dryly. "He was torn between this and 'police tape chic'."
Bella actually snorted a laugh at that, a small, genuine sound. Progress.
Dinner was the usual Swan affair: slightly overcooked something (tonight it was spaghetti, with sauce from a jar), punctuated by Charlie's attempts at conversation and Bella's monosyllabic replies. I mostly observed, a silent sentinel at the table. My senses were a riot. The metallic tang of the cheap cutlery, the scent of the garlic in the sauce, Charlie's aftershave, Bella's shampoo, and always, always, the tantalizing undercurrent of her blood. It was like trying to listen to a quiet conversation in the middle of a rock concert. I focused on parsing out individual sounds and smells, a mental exercise to keep the Thirst at bay.
"So, Bella," Charlie began, "you excited for school tomorrow?"
Bella visibly winced. "Thrilled."
I smirked into my spaghetti. "Don't worry, Bells. The natives are mostly harmless. Just try not to trip over any mythical creatures on your first day." My gaze flicked towards the window, towards the dark woods where I knew the Cullens sometimes roamed. A little too on the nose, perhaps, but she wouldn't catch the reference.
"Mythical creatures?" she asked, a frown creasing her brow.
"Yeah, you know," I said, swirling my pasta. "Sasquatch, the occasional rogue lumberjack. The usual Pacific Northwest fare."
Charlie sighed. "Alex, don't scare your sister."
"Who, me? I'm the epitome of comforting," I said, giving Bella my most reassuring, sunglasses-clad smile. She didn't look particularly reassured.
Later, after Bella had retreated to her yellow room and Charlie was engrossed in a baseball game, I stood by my own window, looking out at the rain-swept darkness. My room was blessedly dim, and I finally took off the sunglasses, letting my crimson eyes adjust. The world outside sharpened, shades of grey and black resolving into intricate detail.
The responsibility felt heavier now that Bella was here, a tangible presence in the house. I wasn't just a detached observer with foreknowledge anymore. I was Alex Swan, her brother. And my instincts, both human and vampiric, screamed at me to protect her. From clumsy accidents, from social awkwardness, and definitely from vampires who sparkled and had questionable self-control.
I thought of the Cullens. Edward, in particular. He was going to be drawn to Bella like a moth to a flame, or rather, like a very old, very conflicted vampire to a girl whose blood sang to him. And Bella, bless her naive heart, was going to fall for the broody, mysterious stranger.
My lips twisted into a grim smile. Maybe. But things were different now. There was a new predator in Forks, one who didn't play by their rules, one who didn't sparkle, and one who had a vested interest in Bella's well-being that went beyond romantic obsession.
I extended my hand, palm up. Focusing, I pictured the blood still faintly smeared on my forearm from my earlier test, now long since healed and washed away. I pulled. Not physically, but with that strange internal sense. For a moment, nothing. Then, I felt it. A faint warmth, a minuscule presence. Slowly, impossibly, a single, tiny droplet of blood, dark and glistening, welled up on my clean skin, coalescing from nowhere, or perhaps drawn from the trace molecules still clinging to my cells.
It hovered there, a perfect sphere, reflecting the faint light from my glowing eyes.
"Interesting," I murmured, the sound barely a whisper. My control was finer than I thought. I could not only manipulate existing blood but perhaps even draw it forth, in minute quantities, from residual traces. Or maybe I was just re-coalescing my own blood that had been absorbed. The mechanics were still a mystery, but the result was undeniable.
I let the droplet fall back onto my skin, where it was instantly reabsorbed without a trace.
The Cullens, with their marble skin and venom, were an unknown quantity regarding my hemokinesis. Did venom count as blood? Could I affect them? Their diet of animal blood was a choice, one born of their morality. My own morality was… more flexible. I wouldn't harm innocents, but I wasn't going to starve myself on principle if a situation became dire. And if someone threatened Bella? All bets were off.
The world suddenly felt a whole lot bigger. And I, Alex Swan, was a very new, very unpredictable piece on the board. Bella Swan's life in Forks was about to begin. And so, in a way, was mine. Again. This time, though, I had teeth. And a few rather unique tricks up my sleeve. Tomorrow was the first day of school for Bella. And the first day I'd potentially lay eyes on the infamous Cullen clan.
"Let the games begin," I muttered, a cold smile touching my lips as my crimson gaze swept over the sleeping town.