A man was calmly stalking down an alleyway, following another man staggering through.

The first man was vaguely blurry, his form and face intangible, as if an eraser had attempted to remove him from reality—all except for his blood-red eyes.

The second man remained blissfully unaware of the approaching danger. His drunken stupor relaxed any wariness you'd have expected from a man walking through a lone street in the death of night, alone and unarmed. His steps made dull thuds against the wet pavement; his breaths were huffed out through lungs damaged by years of nicotine abuse. His eyes clouded and unseeing. 

The first man's blurry form slowly approached him with quiet steps, his red eyes narrowed, his body bending into an aerodynamic lunging position before taking off in a single jump, crossing the distance between the second man and himself. 

Not a second had passed before strong teeth sunk into the helpless man's neck, spilling red.

The blurry man didn't waste a second; in quick motions, he dragged the still-cooling body out of the city into the forest. Then he ripped into him, creating lacerations and wounds reminiscent of an animal attack, before leaving him in an area trafficked by various animals.

If the humans ever were to find his body, the rest of it anyway, they'd assume he'd attempted a drunk hike into the woods and was attacked by a predator. 

It's the usual memo of any decent vampire.

The blurry figure was again on the move, distancing himself from the city. 

He'd fed enough.

Suddenly, he stopped, his eyes narrowing in confusion; two careful steps were made in a specific direction, and then two more. As if testing a theory, he took a short dash in that direction, then stopped, confusion even more apparent in his red eyes.

Then, the confusion changed into determination and stubbornness, and he took off in the opposite direction.

In the darkness of the night, I blinked open my eyes.

A dream, surely.

But, a prophetic dream. 

A man with blood-red eyes, a vampire.

But why would I dream of a vampire?

I disregarded the thought, why wouldn't I dream of a vampire?!

The world was crawling with them, and I had prophetic dreams.

That wasn't new - not to Evalie Bishop, anyway - me? I had yet to get used to it, seeing as I'd only just started experiencing them after reincarnating into this world.

I sighed deeply, taking a glass of water from the nightstand and drinking a sip.

I needed to clear my head.

I needed to figure out why this particular vampire was important, why I'd dreamed of him, but soon my attention was captured by a new pull I felt on the familiar bond.

The Falcom had finished his change and was awakening. 

I smiled in satisfaction; finally, I could meet my new companion. 

I rise from the bed and walk to a nearby couch; on it is a soft bundle of blankets and pillows, and on top rests a sleepy-eyed Peregrine Falcon.

"Hello, sleepyhead," I say, sitting down on the soft rug next to the couch, becoming eye level with the little guy.

A male peregrine falcon would usually be roughly 38 – 46 cm in length, have a wingspan of up to 99 cm, and weigh 500 – 800 g; he'd already been large for a male, measuring a full 50 cm in length, which was more in line with a female, but now he was enormous, no smaller than a golden eagle, a predator he otherwise should have been concerned about. Golden eagles weigh roughly 3-6.1 kg, have a length of 70-84 cm, and a wingspan of 185-220 cm. They were among the largest currently living birds of prey in the world, and now this male peregrine falcon was equally as big, if not slightly bigger.

"Am I stronger now?" the bird asks, suddenly wide awake.

I chuckle in response and find a handheld mirror for him to peruse his new appearance.

I'd originally only ever read about the familiar binding spells effect in books, and seeing it in real life made me realize I had severely underestimated its effects.

It wasn't that I'd never heard of big familiars; I'd read the news of ancient bones being found. Scientists believe they are from an eagle-like ancestor of the current days' birds of prey, calculated to likely have had a wingspan of more than 3 meters. Of course, knowing what I do, I'd also been aware that what they'd found wasn't actually another species but the bones remaining of a familiar post-binding spell.

But seeing is believing, and it had been awfully hard to see exactly how big the bones had been in a newspaper photo.

Nevertheless, I was now more sure than ever that I would have to keep the falcon a secret, at least from the government. Forget having to explain why I'm keeping an endangered species in captivity; if anyone heard about my huge friend here, they wouldn't wait to hear my explanation. Hell, they'd probably think I was trying to keep a rare new kind of raptor all to myself. And then I would be in all sorts of trouble.

Not to mention if it got in the news, it would be like waving a huge flag on international tv, signaling the Volturi 'WITCH HERE,' my end would be sudden and painful, and I would likely lead them to Forks way ahead of schedule, totally fucking up the storyline in the process.

"You're thinking very hard, human," the falcon suddenly said, interrupting my inner monologue.

"Oh, and you're actually thinking, that's new," I reply with a smirk, to which my only response was a loud *Squawk*.

I took it as a win.

"So, I'm guessing you like the results then?" I ask casually, attempting to get back in the falcon's good grace.

"Hmph, Well, you definitely kept your word," The falcon attempted to conceal his exhilaration. Still, it was evident from the bouncy excitement flooding through our familiar bond that he was more than happy with the result.

I looked at my clock and decided there was enough time to take a spin outside before I had to leave for the town. After having a whole week of vacation, it was about time the shops opened back up for business, including the library I'd been buying books home for in the last month.

I'd been making several bookstores very rich this past week by buying up all their stock, including but not limited to the Native American-focused bookstore in Port Angeles; Bella visits the night she almost gets in trouble with a gang of drunk men exhibiting rapist tendencies. Having decided they'd collected all the money they were ever going to get, they'd closed up, leaving me the sole owner of a vast collection of books varying from the old to the obscure, with several very interesting books about the cold ones and half-vampires in between.

Following the storyline, Edward returns from Alaska today and attempts to converse politely with Bella, only to run off when she asks questions about his eye color change. Then, on the same day, he saves her from being crushed between two cars but refuses to explain how he's managed to do so despite being several tens of meters away by his own car, prompting her to investigate his true identity. 

And I was counting on her coming to me, that way, I'd become her introduction to the supernatural community, and she'd know up front, that I'm in on the secret.

"Well, Mr. Falcon, seeing as you've been asleep for over a week, how would you like to go on a hunt with me?" I asked a glimmer of excitement in my eyes.

It was still dark out and would be for another few hours; no one would be able to see us. 

"..Flying.." The falcon muttered, looking down over itself, nudging his previously injured wing. "I almost thought I'd flown for the last time." the falcon finally looked up at me, and without even having to say a word, I sensed the silent 'thank you' in his intelligent eyes.

I smiled and walked over to a nearby table; a proper gauntlet for training large avian species rested on top. I hadn't known how big he'd get, so I didn't want to rely on the standard falcon gloves, which only covered the fist and wrists. I'd gone for the heavy-duty, up-to-elbow kind and thank all that's holy for that cause; otherwise, I'd have been in trouble.

I also double-checked that I was indeed wearing my new amulets, including the one for vampire-like strength; I was no doubt going to need it.

"Ok, let's go," I said, easing on the glove and showing it off to the falcon. My ceilings were rather high, and the falcon didn't hesitate to spread his wings and, set off from his spot on the couch and landed on my arm. 

The second he was in the air, I knew I'd made a mistake; he was, most definitely, bigger than a golden eagle.