There had been a few minutes of silence. A few minutes which, as strange as it was, seemed to be over in the blink of an eye. Carlisle and Esme had left, but Callas didn't pay much attention to their reasoning. Rosalie soon followed after them, taking Renesmee with her. Callas didn't move her gaze from the ground, still not sure of how she'd react to the Cullens. Alice had pushed Jasper out of the room—claiming to go hunting, which didn't settle Callas's stomach one bit. Emmett remained. He stood standing with his arms crossed, blocking some of the doorway—Callas's only escape. Although, it wasn't as if she really could. She wouldn't get very far before she was caught. One mind read from Edward, or a simple glimpse from Alice and she wouldn't even be able to make it off the sofa before she was stopped—hell, she wouldn't even be able to consider running before she was stopped, especially with Alice's precognition.

Bella, slowly, mainly for Callas's sake, walked over and sat down next to her, keeping at least some distance between the two of them. That was something Callas was thankful for. All she could hear with her own breathing, everything else seemed silent, mainly because three of the seven people in the room didn't need to breathe—or maybe they weren't able to—while the other three seemed to have calmed their breathing to the point where it was near undetectable, she hated the feeling of rubatosis. But this was all new to her... of course she was scared. Callas cleared her throat.

"So, you guys are—"

"Vampires. Yeah," Emmett nodded as he interrupted her.

A worried expression fell over Callas's face. She had known that they were vampires thanks to Sam revealing that information to her the previous night where he made sure almost everything was explained to her—but for some reason, hearing them admit it made the hairs on the back of her neck prick up and a cold, uncomfortable, chill ran down her spine. A similar feeling she got when she had been out in the rain and her clothes were damp, just beginning to dry, leaving a strange texture behind and a lingering heavy, damp, and somehow warm feeling behind. Something that she felt just before getting a cold the next day because she didn't dry off or change clothes quickly enough. It was a horrible feeling. Edward got up from the piano and made his way to Callas, kneeling in front of her, smiling gently. But it didn't help her nerves any better—they had to drink blood in order to survive. They had to kill in order to live. But that wasn't a new concept to Callas—it was the natural order of life. But the fact that they drank blood to survive their immortal life—that right there—that wasn't a concept she was familiar with.

"We don't 'eat' humans. We feed on animals."

That relaxed her slightly—although not on much. "Oh, that's... comforting. Besides, I've been told I smell too much like mutts, so I guess you wouldn't bother trying."

Edward nodded. "Yeah, something like that. It's also why our eyes are this colour and not red."

Next to her, Bella smiled comfortingly, trying to be the one to ease Callas's nerves, considering Edward wasn't doing a very good job at it. "Can you tell us anything about who attacked you?"

She sighed. "Will. His name is Will Blanchard." Her eyes drew back to the ground, trying not to look anyone in the eyes.

Emmett lightly punched his right hand to his left palm. "So, he's the nomad?"

"Emmett," Edward warned him. The look on Edwards face, as he turned to look towards Emmett, caused him to drop the small smirk he had on his face. Emmett took that as his cue to leave, his hands held up in defence as he walked out. Edward looked back to Callas. "Anything else? Did he say anything to you?"

Callas shrugged. "Just that he knew me before, that he wants me to remember. But I don't know what that means. I've only ever seen him in my nightmares."

"Compulsion," Edward concluded.

"What?"

"Certain vampires have abilities, that you now know about. Will must have compelled you to believe they were nightmares so he could show up more often. When did they start?"

"When my dad died."

Edward hummed, a strange look cast over his face. "You were emotionally vulnerable, that made it easier for him to get to you."

She shuddered, with an expression of unease plastered upon her face. "That's... less comforting."

Bella shook her head. "Don't worry, he won't be able to get you here." Bella placed her hand on Callas's shoulder, it was cold, colder than she thought it would be, and stronger too—she assumed it would have been a delicate touch, clearly that was wrong to think.

"I... don't think he wants to hurt me though." Callas thought about it. The only time he had hurt her was when she stabbed him in the arm—which was a sentence she never thought she would have had to have admitted to before.

"Why's that?"

"Well, when I was running, before my first physical encounter that I wasn't,"—Callas looked towards Edward as she spoke slowly, unsure if what she was about to say was the correct thing—"compelled,"—Edward nodded and Callas continued—"to think was a dream, he didn't hurt me. He could have, there were no witnesses. In fact, he stopped me from falling, even though I did get cuts and bruises trying to run away from him. He just talked, told me to remember him, then he left." Callas glanced up, noticing Bella looking at Edward before she turned her gaze back to Callas. "I thought I was going insane for the longest time, but now that I know it's real, insanity doesn't seem like a bad thing anymore."

Bella spoke softly, "We're going to find him, I promise."

"I don't think it's that simple." Callas sighed.

"Why?"

"I think he only shows up when I least expect it. When he knows he won't be caught—physically at least."

Seth sat forward, his eyebrows drawn together. "You've lost me."

Callas turned her head to Seth. "In my dreams—or whatever you want to call them—and on my run, in the back of the truck on the way home from the beach, the bonfire, my house, even my bathroom—they were all times that he was there but wasn't stopped—"

"Hold up, he was in your bathroom?"

"Do not get me started on that." Callas groaned, placing her face in her hands. Seth held his hands up and sat back on the sofa, but Reed sat forward.

"No more secrets, remember?" He reminded her.

Callas nodded weakly. "Yeah, I remember. No more secrets."

"So, what happened?"

"It was the day I told you about Will, during dinner," Callas started, Reed nodded. "It was the first time I saw Will in person. I went to have a shower, I locked the door..." Callas thought back to the disturbing images her mind had conjured up and shook her head slightly. "I got out and saw that something was written on the mirror."

"What did it say?" Reed's voice seemed to carry off with the faint draft in the house, worried for Callas.

"'You can't lock me out by sealing your window forever, Callas.'"

Reed looked away. "Jesus," he hissed in anger. "Then what happened?"

"Then..." Callas paused. "A-Are you asking as my brother or an officer?"

"Does it matter? Either way, it's my job to make sure you're safe."

"I guess so." Callas looked back down to the ground. "I then looked to the door, seeing it was unlocked and slightly open when it was definitely locked before. Nothing was out of place... but my computer was on. There were three documents. One of them was a typed message from Will. The other was different tabs on folklore, specifically vampires."

"And the other one?"

"Just an article... I didn't read it." Callas made sure to keep her heart beat levelled, so they wouldn't know she was lying. There was a time and place for everything, but talking about their mother's death wasn't exactly something she wanted to talk about right now. She would, of course, at some point when it was just the two of them, but she wasn't going to talk about it in front of her friends and strangers.

"What did the message say?" Jacob asked after Callas's pause.

"Just for me to remember, that I know, but I need to 'think very hard', and something about him not making me forget everything?"

Edward sighed. "That explains why I couldn't hear everything."

"Excuse me?"

"When I read your mind, before, part of it was fuzzy... now I know why."

"Could you maybe tell the rest of us who don't?"

"It's simple really. Will must have told you things before, or maybe you already knew them, but he compelled you to forget, or at least block them from coming back to the surface. I won't be able to read them unless either you do remember them, or he makes you remember."

Reed tilted his head. "What if there was a reason he made her forget? Like, to keep her sane? Alive? What if remembering does more damage than what's already been done to her? She's already seen him heal before she knew anything about our world."

Edward stood up. "There's only one way to answer that and know for sure."

Callas sighed. "I'm going to have to remember."

Edward nodded. "But you won't have to do it on your own."

"Thanks..."

Seth nudged her arm. "Anything else creepy happen?" She could tell he didn't really want to ask that, but it was necessary.

Callas looked from him to Reed, gulping. "What?" He asked.

"When I went back into the bathroom, one of your police files was in the sink."

"You read one of my confidential police reports?" Reed placed his elbows on his knees as he sat forward, linking his fingers together tightly.

"No. No." She shook her head quickly. "But Will might have. He stuck a police picture of the scene on the mirror. I only saw the date and knew it was Henry's case. I put the picture back, I didn't look at anything, I promise," Callas rushed out, wanting nothing more than Reed to believe her.

"You sure?"

She nodded again. "I wouldn't have been able to read your handwriting anyway."

Reed sighed. "That doesn't make this any better, Cal."

"No. I know. But I just need you to know that I wouldn't read anything I wasn't meant to, definitely not something that involves you or your work."

"Okay." Reed nodded.

"But that's not all." Callas winced.

Reed breathed through his nose deeply. "What else happened?"

"Will was in my room, standing behind me."

"Of course, he was," Reed muttered. "That bloodsucking freak is going to pay."

Callas winced again. "And—"

"And?" Reed interrupted loudly.

"Yeah..."

"Okay." Reed sighed. "'And' what?"

"I almost fell off the side of the cliff, by the beach."

Reed's eyes widened. "What did Will do to you?"

Callas pulled a face. "He didn't do anything per say, he only watched as I was almost run over by a truck."

"Why am I not surprised. You okay?"

"Just a few cuts and bruises, nothing I can't handle."

"You're unbelievable."

Callas let out a sigh, staying silent after his comment. Jacob and Reed already started talking about ways of getting to Will, but in the back of her mind, she knew their attempts were pointless and wasted. Will wouldn't allow himself to slip up and be caught by anyone he didn't want to be caught by. Bella stood up and left the room, and Callas could see that she began to talk with Carlisle and Esme while Emmett, Rosalie, and Renesmee were elsewhere in the house. She remembered that Jasper and Alice were out hunting, so they wouldn't be there anyway. She stood up, blocking out the others as Edward and Seth joined in the conversation with Jacob and Reed. Callas knew she wouldn't have anything important to say to them, she had only just been introduced to the world less than twenty-four hours ago—her eyes were now open and the world seemed a lot bigger than before, which terrified her. Her feet dragged along the carpet, towards one of the walls where she looked at some of the pictures in the frames. Some looked old and stained, ripped and crinkled, and definitely not of this time period. She moved along to stand in front of the other bookshelf that was in front of the piano.

After everyone else began talking, possibly coming up with a solidified plan, Callas stood still, looking at the spines of the books. "Someone wants to talk to you," Edward spoke behind her, causing her to jump and turn around to face him. He motioned his head to the window. Callas walked over and saw Embry step out from the tree line, looking up at the house.