The Imprinted Chronicles: Book One


Someone needed to tell Embry Call to fix his sign.

Samantha decided that she would definitely not be the one to do it, choosing instead to straighten the small wooden placard as she paused in front of the dojo entrance. Both placard and door looked to have seen better days, a combination of low budget materials and the tell tale signs of some sort of human conflict. Possibly repeated human conflict. Wondering slightly if she should trust a sensei that apparently couldn't keep his own from violence off the mat, Samantha decided that she didn't really have much choice. It wasn't as if Forks, the next town over, was teeming with alternate dojos for her picking. This was the only one within walking distance of her father's home, so Call's Family Martial Arts Studio would have to do.

Taking a small breath and smoothing a hand over her ponytail just once, Samantha quietly stepped inside. She immediately winced. A large bell jangling loudly over her head made her entrance less stealthy than she would have liked. She glanced at it ruefully, reaching up and silencing it with her fingertips. Announcing your presence to the world wasn't a bad thing, but Samantha had always preferred to be a touch more discreet. The door stuck on its way back closed and she had to tug it hard to get it in place, setting the bell off again to her irritation.

"Annoying, isn't it?" A deep male voice rumbled from across the open exercise room, a touch of humor in his tone. "Customers are hard to come by, so I make sure I don't miss them."

Samantha looked back down and saw a tall man seated cross legged on the room's protective mats, a laundry basket full of jumbled wraps at his side and one half-rolled in his hands. She met his eyes, warm and chocolate and kind, and she couldn't help but smile back just a little at his quirky grin. He blinked at her a couple times, seeming surprised for a moment, but he recovered quickly and he tucked the wrap under his arm and stood up as she hoisted her gym bag higher on her shoulder and made her way over to him.

"Mr. Call?" She stuck out her hand and looked up at him. Way up. "I spoke to you on the phone last week. Samantha Carter. You can call me Sam, though, if you want."

"Embry," he told her with another grin, this one larger as he took her hand and shook it. "Mr. Call just seems… old." His skin was hot, as if he had just been working out, although he wasn't sweating. He quickly let her hand drop. Apparently her raised eyebrow was something he was used to getting from other people.

She nodded, taking a moment to glance around the room. The far side was set up with a few weight lifting machines but the bulk of the area was cleared for form training and sparring. Mirrors lined the long wall, making the small building seem twice as big. Two different corners held multiple hanging punching bags and the third a laundry machine set and a desk. The door next to the desk might have led to a bathroom. Maybe. A couch and several small chairs back by the entrance were the only creature comforts the dojo afforded. Embry watched her evaluate the place, the quirky smile back as if he knew it wasn't that impressive.

"So, what do you study here?" Samantha asked, trying to cover her embarrassment when she realized his eyes were still on her. He didn't intimidate her, at least not in the standard sense. Embry Call was huge, probably close to six and a half feet tall with muscle packed on every inch, but Samantha had spent her life in and out of martial arts training. There were plenty of huge guys out there, and plenty of them could be dropped by a five foot nothing girl with a well executed roundhouse kick. What intimidated her was that this might be her new sensei, and she wanted to make a good impression, especially since this was actually an interview of sorts.

"I mostly teach kickboxing and self-defense, since this place is relatively new. There's a beginning and an intermediate karate class that meet twice a week. Unfortunately, there are only a couple guys that come in for higher level training. I currently have a third degree black belt, but my secret passion is Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu." Hers too.

"Grappling is fun," Samantha grinned up at him, wondering just how good he was as he nodded in agreement. He seemed to realize she was evaluating him, and his eyes sparkled at her attention.

"Indeed. How about you? You said on the phone that you've studied but not what."

"I've been in and out of too many places for a distinct style," Samantha told him, shifting her bag again. "I'm decent at most things, but there hasn't been a lot of focus in my training. I managed to achieve a third Kyu brown belt in karate, but I'm not sure if I really deserved it."

"Further than most," Embry told her appreciatively, reaching over and taking her bag from her without asking. It took her aback a moment, but he just set it at their feet. Samantha rolled her right shoulder, now free of weight, and she decided that a little honesty was allowed after self deprecation.

"I can, however, kick some ass if allowed to fight freestyle," she told him without bragging. "I'm fast and I don't tire easily. I'm proficient with a bo staff, but not as good with chucks. I came prepared if you need me to do a demo."

Embry just chuckled, shoving his hands into the pockets of his sweat pants.

"It's not really necessary, Sam. You said on the phone you needed to do some hours of community service, not that you were looking for a job, right?"

"No job, although I've got to find one of those too," she frowned briefly, then pushed the thought aside. "The hours are what I need the most, if that works out okay with you, sir."

"Embry," he reminded her.


"Exactly." Chocolate eyes slid over her in a way that made Samantha shiver a little. He really was very attractive, his shirt stretching pleasantly over nice broad shoulders, looser around his trim waist. "Out of curiosity, what exactly did you do? Cause to be honest, Sam, you don't really strike me as the public menace type." He was teasing her. Was he flirting with her? Oh lord. Samantha was really bad at flirting. Really bad.

"It's for a scholarship I'm trying to earn," Samantha took refuge in geekiness. "I've been logging in community service hours for a while now, but I've found its much more fun to do the majority of it in a setting that I enjoy. Picking trash off the side of the road leaves a bit to be desired after hour four."

Embry laughed and she decided that she liked the sound of it. Rich and warm, like his eyes.

"Well then, I guess I don't have to worry about you being a vandal." He didn't sound like he'd been too concerned to begin with. It wasn't as if he had much that could be taken. "I gotta admit that I don't really have a lot of work around here, but just having someone here if I have to take off at short notice would be good."

Embry led her over to his desk and showed her the schedule. Most of his classes were either early morning or evening ones, but he told her that he let his students come in to practice or use the equipment when they wanted to on their own.

"How old are you, Sam?"

"Seventeen," she told him, fiddling a little with her necklace as she wondered how old he was. Old enough to own his own business apparently, but he was definitely no older than his early twenties. He had set the wrap down on the desk, still half wound, so she picked it up and finished it while he hummed lightly to himself.

"So you're at La Push High?" Embry asked, not bothered in the slightest at her making free with his work. In fact, on the phone he'd seemed happy as a clam at the idea of extra help, that is after she'd convinced him it wasn't a prank call. "I've got some friends that go there."

"I will be," Samantha acknowledged, setting the wrap back on the corner where she had picked it up, now nice and neat. "I actually just moved into town a few days ago."

"That would explain the Quileute girl that I've never seen before now," Embry said absently, obviously trying to decide when he would need her the most. "How many hours did you want a week? On top of school and a job…wanna try ten and see if it's too much for you?"

"You could tell I'm Quileute?" she raised an eyebrow in surprise. Samantha wasn't used to people picking up on her heritage, only that she was Native American. In fact the dark hair and dark eyes had been mistaken as Pacific Islander more than once. "Oh, and yeah, ten would be great. This is the priority after school. The job comes in third."

"You're in La Push now, babe," he winked at her. "It's kind of our business to know who's who. It's not often you get fresh meat and slave labor at the same time."

Samantha smirked. "So you're saying you're nosey and an opportunist."

Oh lord, she was flirting with him. That never ended well, her flirting always came out sharper than she intended. Thankfully Embry just chuckled, murmuring it was something like that as he scribbled down a schedule for her to come by, giving her the requested ten hours a week. As he wrote, Samantha took the opportunity to ogle. It wasn't something she did much, but she figured that if he felt comfortable calling her "babe", then she could ogle.

"Are you a senior?" he asked, leaning back in his chair with his hands behind his head after handing her the piece of paper. Samantha tucked it into her back pocket and tried to ignore the arm muscles being presented. His eyes were sparkling again as if he could tell it was distracting her. Not shy, this Embry, that was for certain.

"Hmm? No, a junior. I wish I was a senior. Then I would be off to college in a couple more months instead of a year and a couple."

"College, huh?"

"College. Definitely."

"You got one picked out?"

"Since I was ten." Samantha liked that he seemed pleased with her answer. Her mother had always pushed her hard about college, so that she would never get stuck anywhere in life. Samantha may have been uprooted and shipped here to La Push, but she refused to let the change of scenery distract her from her goals.

"Good girl." The approval of a stranger wasn't needed, but it was nice so she smiled again. She seemed to be doing that a lot today. "So I'll see you here tomorrow then, in the afternoon?" he added, standing up and shaking her hand again.

"Yup. Thanks Embry. Sir. Mr. Call."


"Embry." Samantha chuckled as she grabbed her bag and slipped out of the building, just as loudly as she'd entered. Glancing back through the heavily tinted window, she could just barely make out the large form of Embry Call flopping back on the mats next to his basket of wraps.

The placard was lopsided again. She made sure to straighten it.

A/N Okay, so here's the jist of this story (and any others that may follow it). It is NON-CANON. Hopefully not too out of character, but I'm going to deviate from the books after Eclipse. Breaking Dawn never happened in its entirety, although I may add a few things from the beginning. Also there will be no Rachel imprint, no Renesmee imprint, and no separate packs. These are going to be OC imprint stories, although I'll try to make sure there's actually plot. But they will be NON-CANON. Just letting you know. If you still want to continue, then here are the real chapters!