The next few weeks settled into a fragile, unspoken truce. Edward continued his Oscar-worthy performance of 'Tormented Soul Who Can't Decide if He Wants to Eat the Heroine or Date Her' in Biology. Bella, fueled by her near-death experience and an almost pathological need for answers, was subtly (or so she thought) trying to pry information out of him during their lab partnerships. It was like watching two magnets repelling and attracting each other simultaneously. Painful, yet I couldn't look away. Mostly because I was waiting for something to explode.
My conversations with Astrid Cullen ceased as abruptly as they had begun. She was still a silent, observant presence at Forks High, her silver hair a stark beacon in the sea of browns and blacks. We'd occasionally catch each other's eye across the crowded cafeteria or in the hallways. Those moments were charged, a silent acknowledgment of shared otherness, but she made no further attempts to approach me, and I, frankly, was busy enough keeping an eye on Bella and managing my own… appetites.
The local deer population was developing a healthy respect for the shadowy, swift-moving predator in their woods. My hemokinesis was becoming second nature. I could draw blood from a wound without a thought, sense the faintest trace of it in the air, even subtly influence the flow within a living creature if I concentrated hard enough – a trick I practiced on squirrels, much to their momentary confusion. It was a potent, versatile power, and the more I explored its nuances, the more I appreciated God/Bob's generous gift.
Charlie remained blissfully, almost comically, unaware of the supernatural soap opera unfolding under his roof and in his town. He just saw his daughter moping a bit less and his son developing an almost fanatical dedication to "hiking."
"You're looking… healthier, Al," he commented one Saturday morning, as I came in from a particularly satisfying pre-dawn hunt, my clothes damp with dew and something a little stickier. I'd taken down a young bull elk. The Thirst was a contented purr now, rather than a demanding roar. "All that fresh air, I guess."
"Something like that, Dad," I said, grabbing a towel. "Beats sitting inside playing video games." Which was a lie. The Alex Evans part of me sorely missed a good gaming session, but priorities.
The biggest challenge remained Bella and her uncanny ability to attract trouble. One afternoon, she came home from a shopping trip to Port Angeles with Jessica Stanley and Angela Weber looking paler than usual, her heartbeat a frantic staccato I picked up from half a block away.
"What happened?" I asked, my voice sharper than I intended as she walked through the door. My senses were already scanning her for injury, for the scent of fear or unfamiliar blood.
"Nothing!" she said, a little too quickly. "Just… some guys. In an alley. They were being creepy."
My crimson eyes, hidden behind the ever-present sunglasses, narrowed. "Creepy how?"
"Just… following us, saying stupid stuff." She shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant, but her hand was trembling slightly. "Edward showed up."
Of course, he did, I thought with a grim internal sigh. The universe really did have a twisted sense of humor, or Meyer did. "Edward Cullen, to the rescue. Again. Is this becoming a habit for him?"
"He just… appeared," Bella said, her voice still holding a note of awe. "And those guys, they just backed off. He scared them."
"I bet he did," I muttered. I could imagine Edward, in full protective vampire mode, would be terrifying to a bunch of street-level creeps. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah, I'm fine. Just a little shaken." She looked at me then, a flicker of her earlier suspicion returning. "How did he know where we were, Alex? It was like he just… knew I was in trouble."
"Maybe he's got a really good sense of direction," I offered lamely. "Or maybe Jessica called him. You know how she likes to stir the pot." I wasn't ready to confirm her suspicions about Edward's stalking abilities. That was a can of worms best left sealed for now. My main concern was that she was unharmed. The Thirst, which had been quiet, gave a low growl at the thought of anyone threatening her. It was a deeply primal, possessive instinct, far stronger than simple brotherly concern.
"He offered to drive us home," Bella continued, "but I said no. I didn't want to… owe him anything."
"Smart girl," I approved. "Independence is a good look on you."
The incident, however, seemed to solidify something in Bella's mind. Her research into local legends and "cold ones" intensified. I'd find her poring over books from the library – books I recognized from my own 'research' – her brow furrowed in concentration. She was connecting the dots, albeit slowly.
One evening, about a week after the Port Angeles incident, I was in the living room, feigning interest in one of Charlie's fishing shows, when the doorbell rang. It was late, well past the hour for casual visitors in Forks.
Charlie grunted, leveraging himself out of his armchair. "Who in the blazes…?"
I was already on my feet, my senses on high alert. The scent that wafted in when Charlie opened the door was unmistakable. Cold stone, winter air, and something ancient. Astrid Cullen. And with her… Alice.
"Evening, Chief Swan," Alice chirped, her smile bright enough to power a small city. "Sorry to bother you so late. Is Alex home?"
Charlie looked from Alice's beaming face to Astrid's more reserved one, his expression bewildered. "Uh, yeah. Alex! You got… company."
I stepped into the hallway. "Alice. Astrid. To what do we owe the pleasure? Did I win a raffle?"
Alice giggled. "Something like that! We were wondering if you, and Bella, of course," she added, her gaze flicking towards the stairs where Bella was no doubt hovering, eavesdropping, "would like to come over to our place tomorrow. For dinner."
I blinked. That was… unexpected. A dinner invitation? From the Cullens? To the Swan siblings? "Dinner?" I repeated, trying to keep the surprise out of my voice. "At your place?"
"Mmhmm!" Alice confirmed, bouncing slightly. "Carlisle and Esme would love to meet you both properly. We feel like we haven't really had a chance to get to know our new neighbours." Her eyes sparkled with an enthusiasm that felt both genuine and slightly unnerving.
Astrid stood beside her, silent, her golden eyes fixed on me. Her expression was unreadable, but I sensed a subtle tension in her stillness. This wasn't just a casual invitation. There was an agenda here.
"That's… very neighbourly of you," I said slowly. Bella chose that moment to appear at the top of the stairs, her eyes wide.
"Dinner?" she echoed, her voice barely a whisper.
"Yes!" Alice beamed at her. "It'll be fun! Esme's a wonderful cook."
I suppressed a smirk at that. Cold Ones, cooking for humans. This was going to be rich. I wondered what they served. Lightly chilled blood bags? Artfully arranged forest creatures?
"Well, I…" Bella began, looking utterly flustered.
I stepped in. "We'd be… delighted," I said, before Bella could invent an excuse involving sudden-onset agoraphobia. This was an opportunity. A chance to observe the Cullens on their home turf, to gather more information. And perhaps, to understand Astrid's game a little better. My protective instincts were screaming that this was a terrible idea, like walking into a lion's den armed with a party horn. But the curious, reckless part of Alex Evans, the part that had accepted God/Bob's offer without a second thought, was intrigued.
"Wonderful!" Alice clapped her hands together. "Tomorrow then? Around seven?"
"Seven it is," I confirmed. My gaze flicked to Astrid. She met it, a faint, almost challenging glint in her golden eyes. It was as if she was daring me to accept, to step onto their stage.
"We look forward to it," Astrid said, her voice a soft counterpoint to Alice's exuberance. It was the first thing she'd said.
After they left, Bella practically flew down the stairs. "Are you insane?" she hissed, her eyes wide with a mixture of terror and excitement. "Dinner? With them? What if they… what if they try to eat us?"
"Relax, Bells," I said, though my own internal alarms were still jangling. "If they wanted to eat us, they've had plenty of opportunities to do it in a dark alley somewhere. This is… reconnaissance. We go, we observe, we eat their weird vampire food, and we try not to spill anything on their no doubt priceless carpets."
"But why?" Bella pressed. "Why would they invite us?"
"Maybe they're lonely," I suggested facetiously. "Maybe they want to borrow a cup of sugar. Or maybe," I added, my voice dropping slightly, "they want to see what we're made of. Particularly you, sis. You're Edward's latest obsession, after all."
"I am not an obsession!"
"Could have fooled me," I muttered. "Look, we'll go. We'll be polite. And we'll keep our eyes open. Both of us. Think of it as an anthropological field trip."
"To a house full of potential super-predators," Bella finished grimly.
"Exactly! What could possibly go wrong?" I gave her a grin that I hoped looked more confident than I felt. Internally, I was already running through contingency plans. My hemokinesis was my ace in the hole, but I still didn't know if it would work on Cold One venom. And while I was strong and fast, facing down seven of them, if things went south, was not a scenario I relished. Especially with Bella in the mix.
My gaze drifted to the spot where Astrid had stood. Her invitation, delivered through Alice, felt like a direct challenge. She knew I was different. Was this her way of forcing my hand? Or was it something else entirely? A genuine attempt at… diplomacy? Unlikely, given their usual secrecy.
"Just try not to stare too much at their fangs, okay?" I told Bella as she headed back upstairs, still muttering to herself.
"They don't have fangs!" she called back, exasperated.
"That you've seen," I murmured to the empty hallway. My own felt subtly sharper, a familiar pressure against my lips.
The next twenty-four hours were going to be interesting. I needed to be prepared for anything. And I had a distinct feeling that "dinner with the Cullens" was going to be far more than just a meal. It was going to be a test. For Bella, for Edward, and most definitely, for me. And I couldn't shake the feeling that Astrid Cullen was the one holding the grading sheet.