Wayward ➳ Edward Cullen

8. Revelations

The most important weapon in a hunter's arsenal is knowledge.

The fact I lacked it was a problem. I knew the library was a no go. The best I'd get in Forks would be small paragraphs in compilations on myths and legends. So I used the home office's computer and scoured the internet. Like the library, most of what I found wasn't very useful. The top searches brought up fictional characters in television shows, books, and movies.

Myths and folklore were mixed. I read internet articles on whatever legend I could find, from Vlad Tepes to Mercy Brown. Nothing quite matched what I'd witnessed in the Cullens. I began to wonder if Jacob's tale of the cold ones had any connection to vampires. Maybe it was just the closest comparison.

What I needed were books.

I searched for the nearest bookstore. Forks didn't have anything, but Port Angeles had a few. One of which had a webpage featuring tarot cards and a myriad of crystals. It could have been bogus, but every so often a real psychic or hunter would open shop somewhere. It was as good a place as any to start looking. At the very least, they'd have books off the beaten path. I wrote down the name—Mystic Books—and its address.

Grabbing my jacket and fake cards, I hurried down the steps. "I'm going to Port Angeles for the afternoon," I announced to Sam and Dean before moving for the front door.

"Whoa, whoa," Dean objected, looking up from the pieces of his thirty-eight laid apart on the table. "You know you can't just—"

"I'm going with Angela and Jessica," I lied, opening the door.

Dean scoffed. "In that truck?" He drew out a burner phone and started dialing.

"What are you—"

"Jess gave me her number," Dean grinned at me.

Crap.

I folded my arms and tried to look put out.

"Hey, Jess," Dean greeted. "Good to hear your voice too, sweetheart." Ugh. "Sarah wanted me to let you know she's on her way over for your trip." I dug my fingers into my arms, still affecting a bored expression. Dean watched me like a boxer waiting for his first opening. After a moment, his sights shifted to the side and he frowned lightly. "Well, drive safe." As relief threatened to ruin my carefully constructed façade, I made a show of examining my nails. "Bye."

"Satisfied?" I asked.

Dean picked his bore brush back up and went back to cleaning the barrel. "Have fun."

My phone rang as soon as I shut the truck's door with a bang. "Hey, Jessica."

"You owe me," Jessica returned.

I actually thought we were even for her slipping Edward into the conversation yesterday but didn't feel like quibbling over trivialities. "Totally."

"So where are you really going?"

I started the engine and had to turn down the radio. "Port Angeles. I feel like shopping."

"That doesn't sound half bad," Jessica mused. "The Spring Formal is coming up. I wouldn't mind picking something out before all the good dresses are gone."

I hadn't had dress shopping in mind, but she had just saved my ass. "Sounds good."

"We're taking my car, though," she went on. "No offense."

"None taken." I was grateful for the truck, but Jessica's Kia wouldn't grumble so much about the drive.

It took me less than ten minutes to reach Jessica's house. From there, I parked on the street and went up to her door. She was out as soon as I knocked. "I invited Angela," she said as we headed for her car. "Hope you don't mind."