"Oh—here." Bella grabbed a pen and scribbled down a number. "Lawyer I know. If you want to sue that gator farm, give her a call."
No way that place was getting off the hook. Rumor said they kept hundreds—maybe thousands—of gators. Bella had only killed a few. How many were still out there? How many more people would die? Nobody knew. Class-action lawsuit. Sue them into the ground.
"Okay! And this is for you." Hailey handed her a bracelet. "Found it on the beach when I was little. Not worth much, but... think of it as a keepsake. If you ever come back to Florida, stop by."
A tiny ship's wheel charm hung from the center of the chain. Dark, worn, looked like wood.
Hailey waved goodbye with a smile, then hurried into the helicopter to join her father on the flight to Atlanta.
Bella turned the fingernail-sized charm over in her hand. Looked completely ordinary when Hailey held it. But now? Faint ripple of magical energy.
Could this be an artifact?
Writing on the front. She held it up to the light.
Spanish. Forks High offered Spanish classes—Bella had done okay. Letters were worn, barely legible, but she made out the words:
"The Flying Dutchman?"
She weighed the tiny charm. This was the legendary ghost ship? And only this fragment remained? Just a ship's wheel—a miniature one at that?
Will Turner really didn't take care of his stuff...
The surface even looked scorched. Burned by fire. She tossed it in the water to test it.
Nothing.
No idea how it worked. Missing the activation method? Or was the artifact too damaged to function?
She didn't know. Problem for later.
Either way—Florida mission complete.
Total gains: Barbossa's swordsmanship. A spell that fired Frost Rays. A compass that always pointed toward Hailey. And now a ship's wheel connected to the Flying Dutchman.
Sounded impressive. In practice? None of it seemed immediately useful.
She returned the rental car and caught a flight back to Seattle. Back to Forks.
Home meant school. That was it.
The Snow White opera went on as scheduled. Townspeople and classmates praised her performance. Physically weak but resilient Snow White—she nailed it. People started jokingly calling her "Princess."
She accepted the compliments. Didn't slack on training.
Weekend afternoons. Dense forest outside town. Full sprint.
Rapier in her right hand—bought in Seattle. She imagined multiple enemies surrounding her. Parry. Strike. Learn the rhythm of attack and defense. Footwork shifting constantly, advancing and retreating, keeping all opponents in her strike zone.
Barbossa's swordsmanship included plenty of dirty tricks. Like pulling a flintlock mid-duel and shooting your opponent in the face. Back then, tech and materials were limited. Marksmanship training barely existed. Beyond ten meters, even Barbossa couldn't predict where a bullet would land.
Bella was better equipped. From Agent 006's safehouse—two Glocks and ammo. No license, unregistered, but practicing deep in the woods? No problem.
Flurry of rapier strikes. Draw pistol from waist. Rapid fire—or substitute with Frost Ray.
Everything she could do to improve her combat ability.
"Impressive!"
Familiar voice. From above.
The petite vampire girl she'd shared a desk with a few times—Alice Cullen—sat perched on a tree branch, clapping.
Wait. When did she get here? Bella hadn't sensed anything.
She really needed a detection spell. Otherwise, next enemy encounter could go badly.
Playing casual, she sheathed the rapier. "Just you? Where's the rest of your family?"
Alice hopped down lightly, smiling. "Home. Getting ready for graduation."
Bella laughed. "You've been through so many graduations. Don't you ever get tired of it?"
"Gotta find something to do, right?" Alice tilted her head. "Mind if I try?" Hand extended, asking for the sword.
Bella's strength didn't depend on her weapon. Rapier or not, didn't matter. She handed it over.
Alice mimicked Bella's movements. Few experimental thrusts.
Stiff. Footwork sloppy. College fencing club level at best. Nowhere near real combat.
Alice sighed and shook her head. "Never really trained with these. You're into old-fashioned stuff?" She smiled. "Only one in our family who actually knows swords is Carlisle. Almost four hundred years old, after all." Pause. "Want to come over?"
Bella hesitated at the invitation. Alice didn't push. Just waited.
"When I left Forks last time... I killed three vampires. You know about that?"
Alice shook her head calmly. "The bloodthirsty ones? Nothing to do with us. We never hurt anyone."
Bella thought it over. The Cullens really did have a spotless reputation. Most ascetic vampires she'd ever encountered. She nodded. She'd learned swordsmanship but had no real sparring partners. Carlisle—born noble during an era when fencing flourished—probably had excellent skills.
"Alright. I trust you. Lead the way."
Ten minutes later, Bella arrived at the Cullen family villa.
Warm welcome.
Carlisle and Esme Cullen were practically local celebrities. Carlisle even worked part-time as the town doctor. Had history with Charlie.
The rest were familiar faces from school: pale, brooding Edward Cullen. Massive Emmett Cullen. Short-haired Alice who'd invited her. Jasper Hale and Rosalie Hale.
Seven vampires total.