DISCLAIMER: Stephanie Meyer owns the Twilight Saga and its characters, however I own the plot line and my OCs.

So I wrote this story a while ago and recently got some messages to finish it and now I've re-read it and I've fallen in love with this story all over again and so I'm going to revamp it, if you'll pardon the pun. I'm going to add chapters and make it better as I have improved with over the years - I wrote this three years ago aha. So please if you're new enjoy! And if you're an old reader who has comeback then please sit back and enjoy the rewrite which will hopefully delight you all :)

Thank you so much for reading and please do comment and vote xx

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I sat reading on our sofa, the fire gently flickering in the fireplace. Italy wasn't cold, but I just loved the colour and finesse of the flames as they crackled. So beautiful and yet so dangerous. 

High heels clattered down the stairs. "I'm just going out, alright?" My American best friend Becky never failed to amaze me. She swung through the door way, short black cocktail dress clinging to her athletic frame, sparkly, black high heels the source of the noise. 

"Where are you going?" I asked, turning the page of my book. I already knew, but still...

"Party," she laughed, bruntette braid swaying as she beamed, packing her clutch.

"Be careful," I sighed. I wasn't a party person, the bright lights and loud noises, not to mention the drunken hooligans, really didn't appeal to me. I preferred staying indoors and reading romance novels. Or was I just hopeless at having a social life? Introverted and mumbling my way through school, college and university, through life in general. Even through my current job as a cafe worker until I found a use for my English degree, my true calling - a temporary gig which I'd had for two years now. I loved the cafe, but I could be doing more, much more. 

Becky on the other hand... She was out until midnight partying and always coming back, well... High. Although I'm pretty sure it wasn't on drugs, maybe it was just on life. It seemed as if she never slept. She was never tired, always on the go, never in one place for too long. The woman was a party animal that was for sure. 

"What're you reading?" Becky eyed the book in my hands, slipping her clutch over her shoulder.

"Oh, just The Fault in our Stars." I flipped the cover over for her to see - a familiar sight. It was always lying around the cottage, pages ruined by me folding them over. I know, I know, folding pages... I'm such a monster. 

"For what? The hundredth time?" She laughed - pulling on a red leather jacket - the sound like that of tinkling bells.

"Sixteenth actually," I muttered, folding over the page and slowly letting it fall closed.

But as usual she heard me, pale features pulling into a smile. "You're so grumpy."

"You're so happy," I laughed.

She tucked a loose strand of brown hair behind her ear. "You should try being happy too. Come to the party." She sounded like she was ordering me rather than asking, her brown eyes intimidating.

"I'm good." Now what was happening in my book?

A cold hand touched my shoulder. She was always cold, strange being the warm person that she was. "Just be careful, Hannah."

"I'm not going anywhere," I laughed, shutting my book and looking up at her. "Besides I know karate." I aimed a karate chop at her shoulder. "No need to worry about me. I might get a fatal paper cut but that's it."

"Okay Chuck Norris," Becky nodded heading out of the door, waving as she shut the door without a sound.

She was so graceful - her movements lithe and elegant. Me on the other hand: a tall, curvy, 21 year old. Curly brunette hair hanging round my face, fringe in my eyes. Glasses perched on my nose, pale skin prone to burning. Alas, beauty is in the eye of the beholder...

My phone vibrated on the ornate marble coffee table. What now? "Don't go out tonight xx" Becky was always telling me to not go out at night. And definitely not to go on guided tours for that matter, or anywhere near the tower of Volterra. I'm not sure why though. Well Becky was superstitious... Maybe she was scared it was haunted or had links to the Devil... God knows...

A loud knock sounded on my door. Technically I wasn't going out if I opened the door. It was probably just the neighbours anyway. They were always losing their cat. 

I got up from the sofa, pushing a stray curl behind my ear. My shark slippers sliding on the wooden floor as I headed to the door. The handle was cold as I pushed it down to reveal two cloaked figures in the doorway. They were of the same height and their skin from what I could see the colour of milky marble and just as flawless. Slightly dodgy.

"Can I help you?" I smiled, leaning on the door, the Italian from my lips was second nature - my father's heritage. I suddenly felt bare, standing in my denim shorts and loose marvel comics t-shirt.

"We are looking for Rebecca Smith..." The smooth, flawless voice trailed off not bothering with Italian. They spoke English, an American lilt to their voices. "Perhaps you have seen her?" His face was obscured by a hood, only a pale jawline visible.

"I'm sorry, she's gone out." I pointed out into the darkness. "Another party."

"May we come in?" The second figure slid down their hood, stepping forward. A pale young woman, blonde hair tied into a tight bun, her black orbs watching me. She was beautiful, even with the slight childlike quality to her face.

"Sure." I stepped back, motioning for them to come in. What the hell was I doing? I didn't know these people, but they certainly knew Becky. "Sorry, I wasn't expecting any of Becky's friends to stop by," I apologised, picking up the stray cups and plates on the coffee table.

"Do not worry," the other figure took down his hood, features pale too, eyes black as well. He was as startling as her. Brown hair almost in his eyes. They must be related, perhaps even twins. 

"Are you twins?" I asked, dumping the dishes into the sink.

"Yes," the blonde seemed startled, her voice going up an octave. They both stood in the centre of the living room, unblinking and completely still. 

"Nice, I bet you two are super close," I smiled. "Please, sit down," I motioned to the sofa.

"Thank you," they both nodded.

I sat down across from them. "So what can I help you with?" I played with my hands, nervous. I wasn't very good around people at the best of times. 

"We just need to speak with Becky about her deal," the blonde smiled sweetly. "Just tell her Jane and Alec stopped by. She'll know who we are."

"Oh, okay," I nodded, grabbing a pen and paper, writing down their names.

"Are you from Italy?" The man asked.

"No," I laughed. "I'm from England, then I moved here when I was little and then back to America. I moved back here a few years ago after finishing my degree at Yale where I met Becky." I certainly wasn't an olive skinned beauty, that was for sure. I had received the beauty of alabaster skin instead from my English heritage. 

"I assume the weather is far better here?" Jane asked, eyes scanning the room.

"Definitely," I nodded. "Can I get you a drink or something to eat?"

"No," they said in unison, tensing. Odd.

I smiled, unsure of what to do. To say. The pair weren't awkward, just... I don't even know how to put it. 

"Well, we shall leave you in peace," Alec stood. Jane followed.

"Okay," I stood up too. Not as gracefully as them though. Not as quickly either, probably just the light, or me being tired. There was no way they could have moved that quickly, no human could move that quickly surely... 

"Thank you," Alec smiled, opening the door and leaving with his sister following.

I let the door fall shut. What the hell was that all about? I rushed to the curtains, pushing them slightly aside to see four figures in cloaks, hoods down opposite the cottage. They were talking, motioning towards the house. This could not be good. 

A pair of deep ruby eyes caught mine. A tall man with brunette hair looked at me confused. He was staring straight at me. I tried to keep my features calm as I let the curtain fall, my heart racing. I wasn't scared, just... I had no idea. What on earth was happening?! Ruby eyes? Who the hell has bright red eyes? 

I shook my head, slowly walking to the coffee table and picking up my phone. Speed dial: Becky. "Hey Becky, it's me," I answered when she picked up after the first ring.

"What's wrong?" She asked, the sound of loud music distant.

"Do you know a Jane and Alec?" I asked.

"What!" My ear rang at her scream.

"Whoa, calm down." I fell onto the sofa, staring up at the ceiling. "There's four of them outside, they're waiting for you. Something about a deal." I pushed my fringe out of my eyes.

"Okay." A deep breath.

"They told me that they need to speak to you about your deal?" I half told, half asked.

"Jane and Alec spoke to you!" Becky shouted.

"You know I can hear you just fine when you're talking," I muttered. "Sure, they came into the house - a little odd but they seemed nice enough."

"Holy shit." This definitely did not seem good, especially with Becky's reactions. 

"So... What do I do?" I whispered.

"Call a taxi. Book a hotel. Get the hell away from the cottage."  Becky sighed - a slight rise in her voice told me one thing: she was panicking. Alec and Jane were definitely not Becky's friends. "I'll find you."

"Okay..." I looked around the living room. "And Becky?"

"Yes?" Her voice was strained.

"You better explain to me what the hell is going on when you find me." I hung up, as I slowly climbed the stairs to the loft conversion that was my room. What the hell had my best friend gotten into now?I found three outfits, shoving in my jewellery box and picture album into the camping backpack.

I peaked out the window. They were still there. The ruby eyes once again catching mine. My phone was heavy as I dialled a cab. Twenty minutes. What was I meant to do in twenty minutes?The backpack wasn't as heavy as I thought, light on my shoulder as I jogged down the stairs.

My phone started to vibrate. "Hello?"

"Hey, it's Becky. Look just don't do anything stupid when you leave okay. If they're outside, ignore them please."

White noise filled my ear. Becky had hung up on me.

I chucked the backpack on the sofa. Fifteen minutes left.

Ten minutes later I'd: fed the fishes, finished The Fault in our Stars for the sixteenth time, walked around the house six times, been to the loo, put on my black hoodie, counted my money (£600) and locked all the windows and doors in the house apart from the front door, obviously.

My backpack now over my shoulder, I gripped the key and stepped out of the door. Four figures looming on the other side of the street. They stood in a line: perfectly still, hoods now up and concealing their faces. They were most likely watching me. 

I took a deep breath, sliding the key into the lock of the cottage. I kept my back turned to them. Nope, I was not bothered by their creepy presence or their absurd stillness. Goosebumps spread across my bare legs. Turning the key once I slipped it into my back pocket.

Never had the pathway to the gate seemed longer. Each crunch of stone earsplitting, as I made my way to the street.

The gate creaked as I stepped onto the street. Two minutes. Two painfully long minutes.

I looked up from the pavement to watch the quartet across the street. Sure enough, all four pairs of eyes watched me from the shadows. It was doing my head in. They must have taken their hoods down the second I turned my back to them. 

"You know it's rude to stare," I muttered. "Creeps."

Four beautiful laughs sounded from across the street. They'd heard me. Oops. What ever had happened to don't do anything stupid?

"It's rude to talk about people behind their backs," echoed around the street, the voice flawless, like the twins' but deeper and far more masculine. 

"Good job, I'm not behind your back then," my voice echoed around the street too. The taxi was late. Uh.

More laughter. "You're brave, I'll give you that." Alec.

"Thanks," I smiled. "You're all not creepy, not at all."

"Sarcastic isn't she, Jane? I like it." A voice like liquid gold drifted across the street.

My heart sped up. I deepened my breathing, trying to slow it back down. Why on earth had I reacted like that?

"Yes, she is." Jane's voice was like steel. She was pissed. Oops...

Headlights lit up the street.

"Took your god damn time," I snapped, looking back to across the street. They'd gone. About time, creeps.

I opened the door of the cab.

"I'll get in first." I looked to my right seeing Jane, unable to move as she climbed into the cab, movements graceful and precise.

"You next, my dear." The hairs on the nape of my neck stood on end as I turned, meeting the deep ruby eyes once again. The man in front of me stood a few inches taller than me, his hair actually a dirty blonde rather than brunette, his cheekbones pronounced and jawline sharp. He had all the feature marks of a player that was for sure. He had a feral beauty about him with a certain elegance to the way he held himself: proud, perhaps borderline cocky. 

I nodded, slipping my backpack off. I slid in, followed by creepy number four.

They were both cold, like Becky, however they were powdery pale, not a light pale like Becky. What the hell was happening? Why did these people seem a lot like Becky?

"Where to?" The taxi driver spoke in Italian oblivious to the two impostors in the car with me.

The two looked at me, black and red eyes piercing.

"Umm... The nearest hotel please," I smiled, the Italian fluent from my lips. I wasn't scared, not that I was trying to persuade anyone, least of all myself.

"It's about time we introduced ourselves," Jane smiled, and this time it wasn't friendly. It was like a lion smiling at it's prey: cruel and taunting. The pair didn't need a gun to make me feel on edge, just their eyes were enough to freak me out. 

Shit.