Prologue and chapter one are fine, could do with improvement.

Chapter two is awful, thought I would leave it in for now anyway. Day Breaker
Prologue Smoke and Windows
A.D. 2027 November 23, 1:47 a.m. Port Talbot, South Wales

I wake up to the smell of stale cigarette smoke and dry sweat. The same thought runs through my head as almost every other day. What would my mother think if she could see me now? I open my eyes to find an unfamiliar room, not surprising as I dont often wake up in the morning to a familiar sight. Not anymore anyway, I do have a permanent home in the area, but I mostly use it to store my possessions rather than as a place to stay. The room Im in now appears to be some sort of bed-sit, a hostel perhaps. A large ashtray is blocking most of my view, its one of those large glass ones you see on cheap, wooden benches outside pubs. I sit up slowly, so as not to disturb the girl lying next to me. I can honestly say I have never seen her before in my life, to the best of my knowledge. Alcohol is a strange substance; it only serves to make bad times worse and good times blurry and hard to remember, yet we continue to consume massive amounts of it on a nightly basis just to wake up the next morning feeling ill and disjointed. Of course, I am lucky enough to be immune to the symptoms of hangovers, which of course is simply a lack of water in your system which doesnt really apply to me, but I do still suffer from the memory loss which can be irritating at best. I take stock of the room around me, I can see that it is pitch black, but I can also see that it has a television, kitchenette and sofa-bed (which Im still sitting on) all in one room. Definitely a bed-sit or hostel, its too small to even be a studio flat, and it has a certain feeling of neglect, like the girl lying next to me really doesnt want to live here. Its times like this I wonder why I dont just take them back to my place. Then of course I remind myself. Because then they would know where I live, and who needs that hassle, not me. Having stalkers following me to ASDA, staring at me from behind tins of spaghetti. No, thank you. I should feel some shame when I take this train of thought. Although I take some comfort in knowing that if she were to take home some of my acquaintances, or a few of my less disciplined relatives, the night would end on a more macabre note. I shudder as I picture my uncle, standing over the sofa-bed Im sitting on now, with flecks of human blood dotting his honey blonde hair. His eyes turn a dark crimson as I close mine and shake my head to rid myself of the thought. I get up fluidly, without shaking the makeshift bed. I glance at the clock which tells me its one forty seven, the twenty third of November. Christ, I didnt even know what day it was.

I walk over to the only window to see where I am and judge how far down I need to go. I determine roughly where I am. I dont recognize the buildings but I do know the patch of sea that can be seen in the distance. It wont take me long to get home, I might as well crash there for a few hours, it is still be quite early. I would have just gone back to sleep for a few hours but I dont want to risk her waking up before me. That just makes it more awkward when you have to explain that you are leaving and she is never going to see you again. Im not egotistical or vain, but they always seem so disappointed when they realise Im not coming back, and I hate to see the look of longing on their faces. At a glance I estimate myself to be 5 floors up. A rather high building, perhaps Ill recognize it from the outside. I havent been here long, but a near photographic memory helps with navigation. I always leave a short note behind. After a lot of early morning escapes I decided it was fairer that way, it shows that you at least cared enough to take a few seconds out of your time for her. I cant write as neatly as the rest of my family, although they have an excuse, that was how they were brought up. I find a piece of paper and a pen and, keeping it short and sweet, I write;

Thank you for a wonderful evening I am sorry if I misled you at all. I will always remember last night. Love, Billy Black
As I finish my written lie to her, I turn back to the girl for a silent farewell, the most I can afford to give. She really is rather pretty. I hate to rate them and keep score but I just cant help myself. She is one of the better looking girls Ive been with recently. Wow, that sounds bad. Perhaps I should quit the drinking, and then I might even remember nights like this. Im sure it was brilliant, she seems very happy. I can tell she is dreaming about me, and I cant help but smile at that fact. I turn to leave, slowly opening the window so I dont wake her up. I cant tell if she is a light or heavy sleeper, so its better to play it safe. Once more I feel a small sting of guilt at the thought of her waking up in the morning to an otherwise empty bed and wondering what she had done wrong to drive me away. I leap headfirst out of the window and catch the overhang on the outside wall. I pull myself up so I can carefully close the window, this time of year she would catch a cold with it open at night. The slight sting of guilt prickles at me again as I look at her face, but fades away to disgust as the picture of my uncle with crimson eyes once again fills my mind. Im not really being fair, I thought, Jasper is just as committed as anyone else. Well, except maybe Carlisle. And so, without another glance at the pretty girl who will surely be upset upon awakening, I drop to the pavement below.

1. Wolf, Myself and I

November 23, 2:13 a.m. Port Talbot, South Wales

Ok, so I have a habit of being untrue in my notes. Its not like Ive murdered someone. I see no problem with giving a fake name. It makes no difference to her, as long as she doesnt find out, and it helps protect me from stalkers. I reason that it isnt a fake name at all. My name is William, and Billy is an accepted shortened version of that, although I prefer to be called Will. I feel that William is a bit too out-dated. I got the name from my grandfather who died a couple of years after I was born. I never met him because we didnt visit Forks until I was three and apparently he couldnt fly over to England to see us. Alright smart arse, you can call yourself Billy but your last name isnt Black. Explain that one away. Wow, now Im talking to myself. Maybe a steady girlfriend wouldnt be so bad, a companion to actually spend time with. No, my last name isnt Black, so I cant justify that, except that it was when I was born. My parents tossed around a few different combinations. For a while it was William Cullen-Black. Apparently it didnt sound right so they just took off the Black. So my first name is from my dads side, last name from my mums. That seems fair, and it also gives me the excuse to pick and choose which name to give out to strangers. I had been lying in bed for fifteen minutes just letting my mind wander. It had only taken me a minute and a half to get home. Because its such a dark night I had the chance to really let loose and push to top speed, and then scale the buildings wall back into my apartment. Still nothing compared to my grandfather on my mothers side. He is the fastest thing on two legs, or even four for that matter. Hes also the inspiration for my middle name. You gotta keep the family name alive somewhere. All this thinking about my family had me wondering if I should go back to the States for a visit. It had been about two years, although that doesnt seem like a lot when time becomes completely meaningless to you. Still, I should go for a few weeks soon, just to catch up and see everyone. In truth, I did miss it occasionally. I hated the slow, boring grind off life in a town that could be in the middle of an earthquake while being attacked by aliens and still managed to feel bland. However, I missed the family itself. There were four generations, including me, able to live under the same roof with perfect ease. There was never a dull moment in that house; it was just the area I didnt like. Plus of course, there was every now and again when I would go for a run halfway to Canada and back with Seth or Embry just for the fun of letting loose and allowing our muscles to work uninhibited. I was truly happy then, I was never as big or strong as them, but at least I could keep up when we ran. I drifted off to sleep thinking about the sound and feel of claws tearing into the dirt, and just as my eyelids dropped I could swear I almost heard a wolf baying at the moon.

I was running through a forested area I recognised as the Olympic Peninsula, the lush green vegetation and misty, overcast environment gave it away. I believe I

was travelling north, and I was going flat out like I was on my way to Canada, my hands brushing the trunks and branches of trees to correct myself as I became almost airborne. The feeling of my muscles and tendons helping me to tear through the trees felt so real, it couldnt have been a dream. It felt very lucid, yet I was also aware that I was travelling along a predetermined path, as if I had been told to go somewhere but couldnt quite remember where. Soon I became aware of a strange scent. It was sweet yet tangy, like burnt chocolate, with just a hint of wet dog. It was odd, yet familiar. I changed course slightly to direct myself towards the smell. It was faint, but getting stronger fast. I estimated it to be about three miles away, even though I wasnt sure of its source. I began to wonder if it was wise to pursue my target alone, the house couldnt be far from here. I tried to block this from my mind because a realisation hit me, from somewhere in my sub-conscience, that there was no help coming, no one to go to if I got in trouble. Curiosity, however, pushed me forward. The most peculiar understanding suddenly dawned on me when I was a mile from my goal. The scent, wet dog and burnt chocolate, was me. I cant be a mile away, Im here I must be dreaming, this is too weird to be real. Maybe Im not me, perhaps Im someone else. Dreams can be quite surreal. All these thoughts and more occurred to me as I ran. I looked down and saw that I was definitely me, I was dress in nothing but a pair of my shorts, but I was sure that I could smell me as well. I cant smell my own scent, no one can, but I occasionally caught a bit of it through the minds of others, which is why is wasnt immediately obvious what it was. All of this was racing through my mind so fast that I didnt even notice when I came to a small clearing, the trees disappearing from around me. I had been going so fast that I was twenty feet in before I came to a halt. I barely had time to register the open area, a small glade with wildflowers and short grass, before the thing in its centre stole my gaze. It was me. I took in the familiar auburn colour, like my father, with strips of dark grey and white highlights. Only about average size, maybe slightly bigger. Bright golden eyes that stared back at me, and even coming from the face of a wolf, the expression was clear. It was a mix of relief and self-satisfaction. As if it had been waiting a long time, but knew I would get here eventually. I walked over to the wolf that couldnt be, but definitely was, me. I walked cautiously, still not one hundred percent about the situation, and the wolf simply watched me advance. As I came to a stop five feet from it, I considered asking it if it knew what was happening, but I didnt bother. It would probably understand me but have no way of communicating. It would be easier if I could phase, but I felt like that part of me had been taken away. I guessed that this really was me, or that side of me at least, and it had been taken out of my body and placed in front of me. All of a sudden, without warning, the beast reared up onto its hind legs, like a horse, and I felt a faint shimmer in the air as it pulled back into itself and became human as its head reached its highest point. At the same time I felt the familiar pull of the wolf breaking out of me as I fell forward and landed on four legs as the shorts slid off my now more angular body. At least my clothes dont shred when I phase like my father and the others. The wet dog smell faded away but the burnt chocolate smell got slightly worse, something I was used to. I looked up at my human self as he looked down at me. He was naked, of course, but it was my body so I hardly noticed.

Just out of politeness I stepped back so I could push my discarded shorts towards him in an offering. Thank you, son, he said as he picked them up from the floor. His voice sounded off, like my voice and my fathers had been grafted together somehow. As he clothed himself I noticed for the first time what I had missed when he was a wolf. He was older than I was. He was maybe thirty years of age to my twenty, about twenty anyway. This was very peculiar as I had officially stopped growing two years ago, and I would stay in my prime for the rest of my life, or forever, whichever came first. Again I wanted to ask him what was happening, however now I couldnt speak, so it was no better than being human. All I could do was wait and see what happened. Who is this guy, I thought absently. I am you, and you are me. We are one. He said this as if to answer my question, then looked at me expectantly. Can you hear me? Yes, yes I can How? It is only a dream. People fly in dreams, they swim in the depths of the ocean. Is this really so perplexing? True, I thought, well whats going on? He looked at me with a strange expression on his face, smiling as if he was explaining something very simple to a child. I am here to help you, well; to guide you would perhaps be a better word. For now I simply wanted you to be aware of me, so in future it would be easier for us to talk. Ok, well right now you can help me by telling me who you are, or why you look like me, but older? As I said, we are one. My nature, however, is separate. Now is not the time for such a discussion. He looked at me with the same condescending face, but it had become fierce under the surface. It was subtle, he probably didnt even realise it, but it was my face and I saw it. He came closer to me and knelt down so we were face to face. Your mother is calling, he whispered. Suddenly he opened his mouth wide, wider than should have been possible and a shrill, trilling sound burst out from inside him. I felt like I had been punched in the stomach by an invisible prize fighter and I was shocked upwards and found myself standing on two legs once again. He stood up, still emitting the strange noise, and as my bright green eyes met his bright green eyes it all went black

I opened my eyes to the familiar site of my seaside apartment, wondering if I would ever get a decent night sleep. No, I thought to myself, not while you continue to wake up in other peoples homes. It took me a second to realise that I could still hear the shrill ringing sound. It was the phone. I stood up to answer it, glancing at the clock on my way. Four fifteen, well I had had a couple of hours at least. As I lifted the phones receiver to my ear the last words of my doppelganger echoed in my mind.

Your mother is calling. I lifted the earpiece hesitantly and said, Mum? No, said a voice so similar to my dream twin that it frightened me for a second, its your dad, Ive got to talk to you, and Im afraid youre going to have to come home.

2. Home, Sweet Home

November 24, 3:46 p.m. SeaTac, Washington

Getting off the plane at Tacoma International, just outside of Seattle, I can already feel the subtle differences between where Ive come from and where I am. I feel it in the air, and in peoples minds. Ive always found it strange how two groups of people, American and British, think so differently. They have similar cultures and interests. They watch the same movies, listen to the same music and even speak the same language. Yet when Im in Britain all I feel is a quiet despair that says everyone is afraid they will fail in life, and in America it is the opposite, a quiet self-assurance that says they know they are right, so they must surely succeed. I muse over which is better, then I realise there is no answer, so I come back to reality. I told them I would make my own way home from the airport, probably get a taxi, but they didnt listen. When do they ever, Im still the baby of the family, quite literally when you compare my age that of Carlisle or Jasper. Theres a familiar car waiting near the drop off zone, which is currently packed, which is why the Wrangler is double parked near an intersection. Of course, on any other occasion, the traffic police would go and make the driver move it. In this instance, however, it is clear in their minds and on their faces as they look at my uncle that telling a guy that big to do anything is more than their jobs worth. Its my uncles Jeep and he loves it, he says its because it reminds him of himself, but if he wanted a car that he resembled then he should have bought an exmilitary Hummer, or a tank. All I can say about him is this; imagine a vending machine with a head, arms, legs and the face of a model. Then say its all carved out of marble, now imagine it being the most immature, yet kind being you could think off. So basically hes Sloth from the Goonies, but sexy. To an outside observer he does seem rather scary, but thats only because of his sheer mass, and of course theres the animal instinct to avoid anything higher up on the food chain than you. However, as I walk over to him, acting cool as always, he bounds over to me and gives me a bear hug. It hurts, a lot. We are always very careful when it comes to physical contact with humans; I could break someones wrist with a small squeeze, my family could crush their bones to dust with two fingers. However, with me being a dhampir, and Emmet not being so clear on the specifics of this, he forgets that I am much weaker than him, so I tend to avoid play fighting with him whenever possible. How have you been kid, booms Emmet, at a volume most people would need to scream to achieve, How longs it been? You know its been two years. I reply, Vampires have perfect recall. Whoa, dont go dropping the V word so casually, he pretends to scold me, but he doesnt care either, they wouldnt approve. Yes, but they arent here, are they? No but Ive never been too good at hiding my thoughts, so expect a ticking off from your grandpa when we get home, he says with a smile. I frown, I dont forget the abilities of Edward, but it occasionally slips my mind. In this case I seem to have dropped myself in it. Well lets be on our way, before those traffic guys pluck up the courage to give you a ticket, I say as I point out the law enforcement agents trembling at the sight of one unarmed man picking up his nephew from the airport. I guess I didnt notice them, he shrugs, fair enough, get in then.

As I jump up into the passenger seat of the Jeep, Im glad that Emmet came to pick me up. I couldnt get home on foot, too much luggage with me, and Im not a fan of cab drivers. Most people dont like me when they meet me because they think I look dangerous. Its not the way I dress or even the way I act. Its just the whole predator and prey thing all over again, and when you are sat in a metal box with someone who is totally suspicious of you for no reason other than instinct, having to listen to his mind as he wonders if he shouldnt have taken this fare, the whole thing gets very irritating. It doesnt take long to get home, because Emmet isnt the sort of guy to obey a silly thing like speed limits, and we get home before we even get a chance to talk, so Ill have to catch up with him later. Of course I ask him why Im here, and of course, he isnt allowed to tell me. A threat from dad doesnt go very far with him, so I guess Edward has had a word with him, or worse, Alice. The house is the same as it always it, and probably always will be. Old fashioned exterior, modern interior. Almost every surface in the house is brilliant white and gleaming. Not to mention the giant glass panes running all along the back wall. As I walk up the porch towards the front door, Emmet just behind, I look around at the forest surrounding the house. It is completely cut off from the outside word, except via a small path just big enough for a car. Unless of course you are happy running through the dense forest areas of northern Washington. Luckily, thats perfect for all of us, so it doesnt make life any harder. I walk through into a large space that takes up most of the ground floor, the main living area. Standing and sitting around are my immediate family and a couple of extras, with one noticeable exception. Rosalie walks past me, giving me a quick hug as she passes, to embrace Emmet as she must always do any time he walks in the room. I look around at Carlisle, Edward and Esme standing near the stairs, they seem to have been having a semi-private discussion. Alice is on a computer with Jasper standing over her, looking at whatever she is doing. Bella is sat in a chair playing with her hair and watching my dad pace back and forward along the length of the back wall. Quil and Embry lean against the large window, anxiously watching my dad, as if they feel like they should join his futile march. My mother is curiously absent. My arrival seems to snap everyone out of whatever they were doing. Conversation, computer, hair and pointless pacing all come to a halt and everyone looks at me. Why does everyone look so surprised to see me, I joke, I thought Alice could see the future, plus you asked me to come. Emmet picking me up from the airport is what really should have tipped you off. I smile, but everyone frowns at once, which is not a good sign. So I guess always open with a joke doesnt really apply here. I try to keep the mood light. Esme steps forward and gives me a look of slightly condescending pity that instantly makes me feel nervous. Its not that we arent happy to see you, she says in her usual soft, caring voice, its just that now isnt really the time for jokes. Now Im feeling agitated, well it is the time for me because I have no idea what is going on. Where is mum? I know she isnt in the house because I cant feel her thoughts anywhere nearby. My dad speaks for the first time, without a change in facial expression or thought pattern he says, The Volturi has her.

The Volturi do not have her, cuts in Jasper, which is out of the ordinary for the quiet, reserved vampire, They wouldnt abduct a vampire for no reason. My dad looks at Jasper in a way that tells me they have had this conversation before this, which is also odd because even though they see each other as family, Jasper and my dad hardly say two words to each other on a normal day. What other explanation is there? asks my dad, Plus, she isnt a vampire, shes a dhampir, which is probably reason enough for them, and theyve tried it before. Hold on, mum is missing? We dont know who has her or why? So why are we standing around wasting time, we should get out there. I look around wondering why everyone is just looking at me. Carlisle walks up to me with a similar, less condescending, look of pity to the one I got from Esme. We have been looking for a week now. He sighs. We have every vampire willing to help looking too. So far we have found nothing. What does Alice see? I ask Carlisle, quite rudely because Alice is in the room. I see nothing, she says with a shrug, Just blank, empty space where her future should be. You know how it is though, I dont see dhampirs all that well, at the moment Im simply drawing a blank. So she could be dead for all we know? No, your dad would feel it if she died, part of that whole werewolf in love thing. There is silence while I take in all this new information and everyone else waits for me to come back to reality. Rosalie and Emmet step round me to join the rest of the group. The silence is eventually broken by Quil. Ok, just to be clear, whats a dhampir? Everyone looks around wondering if its worth explaining, and if so, who is going to bother. Eventually Bella sighs and consents to explain. A dhampir is similar to a vampire, she says in her rhythmic voice, the sounds of bells ringing and harps playing at the same time fills the room as she continues, the easiest way to explain it is to say half-vampire. Its tricky though because even though Renesmee is a dhampir, so is Will. Nessie being a half vampire half human, but Will being one quarter vampire from his mothers side and one quarter werewolf from his dads side, Two quarters human, one from each parent, makes half human. Its confusing, but all it is, is that if you are born a vampire, no matter how much vampire is in you, youre a dhampir. So, says Quil, Born, dhampir. Made, vampire? Embry shakes his head, yes Quil, well done. Can we please get back to the real issue here, unless we want to continue this racial discussion? Hes right, a sharp, familiar voice from behind me grabs everyones attention, and unless anyone else has any ideas, I think I know what needs to be done. Edwards eyes light up and he grins as he reads my friends thoughts.