Page 6

I felt his arms wind around me, and I leaned against his chest, still sniffling. "This
sucks."
"Yeah." Then he sniffed my hair and said, "Ew."
"What?" I demanded. I looked up to see that his nose was wrinkled again. "Why
does everyone keep doing that to me? I don't smell!"
He smiled a little. "Yes, you do—you smell like them. Blech. Too sweet—sickly
sweet. And… icy. It burns my nose."
"Really?" That was strange. Alice smelled unbelievably wonderful. To a human,
anyway. "But why would Alice think I smelled, too, then?"
That wiped his smile away. "Huh. Maybe I don't smell so good to her, either.
Huh."
"Well, you both smell fine to me." I rested my head against him again. I was
going to miss him terribly when he walked out my door. It was a nasty catch-22—
on the one hand, I wanted Alice to stay forever. I was going to die—
metaphorically—when she left me. But how was I supposed to go without seeing
Jake for any length of time? What a mess, I thought again.
"I'll miss you," Jacob whispered, echoing my thoughts. "Every minute. I hope she
leaves soon."
"It really doesn't have to be that way, Jake."
He sighed. "Yes, it really does. Bella. You… love her. So I'd better not get
anywhere near her. I'm not sure that I'm even-tempered enough to handle that.
Sam would be mad if I broke the treaty, and"—his voice turned sarcastic—"you
probably wouldn't like it too much if I killed your friend."
I recoiled from him when he said that, but he only tightened his arms, refusing to
let me escape. "There's no point in avoiding the truth. That's the way things are,
Bells."
"I do not like the way things are."
Jacob freed one arm so that he could cup his big brown hand under my chin and
make me look at him. "Yeah. It was easier when we were both human, wasn't it?"
I sighed.
We stared at each other for a long moment. His hand smoldered against my skin.
In my face, I knew there was nothing but wistful sadness—I didn't want to have
to say goodbye now, no matter for how short a time. At first his face reflected
mine, but then, as neither of us looked away, his expression changed.
He released me, lifting his other hand to brush his fingertips along my cheek,
trailing them down to my jaw. I could feel his fingers tremble—not with anger
this time. He pressed his palm against my cheek, so that my face was trapped
between his burning hands.
"Bella," he whispered.
I was frozen.
No! I hadn't made this decision yet. I didn't know if I could do this, and now I
was out of time to think. But I would have been a fool if I thought rejecting him
now would have no consequences.
I stared back at him. He was not my Jacob, but he could be. His face was familiar
and beloved. In so many real ways, I did love him. He was my comfort, my safe
harbor. Right now, I could choose to have him belong to me.
Alice was back for the moment, but that changed nothing. True love was forever
lost. The prince was never coming back to kiss me awake from my enchanted
sleep. I was not a princess, after all. So what was the fairy-tale protocol for other
kisses? The mundane kind that didn't break any spells?
Maybe it would be easy—like holding his hand or having his arms around me.
Maybe it would feel nice. Maybe it wouldn't feel like a betrayal. Besides, who
was I betraying, anyway? Just myself.
Keeping his eyes on mine, Jacob began to bend his face toward me. And I was
still absolutely undecided.
The shrill ring of the phone made us both jump, but it did not break his focus. He
took his hand from under my chin and reached over me to grab the receiver, but
still held my face securely with the hand against my cheek. His dark eyes did not
free mine. I was too muddled to react, even to take advantage of the distraction.
"Swan residence," Jacob said, his husky voice low and intense.
Someone answered, and Jacob altered in an instant. He straightened up, and his
hand dropped from my face. His eyes went flat, his face blank, and I would have
bet the measly remainder of my college f and that it was Alice.
I recovered myself and held out my hand for the phone. Jacob ignored me.
"He's not here," Jacob said, and the words were menacing.
There was some very short reply, a request for more information it seemed,
because he added unwillingly, "He's at the funeral."
Then Jacob hung up the phone. "Filthy bloodsucker," he muttered under his
breath. The face he turned back to me was the bitter mask again.
"Who did you just hang up on?" I gasped, infuriated. "In my house, and on my
phone?"
"Easy! He hung up on me!"
"He? Who was it?!"
He sneered the title. "Dr. Carlisle Cullen."
"Why didn't you let me talk to him?!"
"He didn't ask for you," Jacob said coldly. His face was smooth, expressionless,
but his hands shook. "He asked where Charlie was and I told him. I don't think I
broke any rules of etiquette."
"You listen to me, Jacob Black—"
But he obviously wasn't listening. He looked quickly over his shoulder, as if
someone had called his name from the other room. His eyes went wide and his
body stiff, then he started trembling. I listened too, automatically, but heard
nothing.
"Bye, Bells," he spit out, and wheeled toward the front door.
I ran after him. "What is it?"
And then I ran into him, as he rocked back on his heels, cussing under his breath.
He spun around again, knocking me sideways. I bobbled and fell to the floor, my
legs tangled with his.
"Shoot, ow!" I protested as he hurriedly jerked his legs free one at a time.
I struggled to pull myself up as he darted for the back door; he suddenly froze
again.
Alice stood motionless at the foot of the stairs.
"Bella," she choked.
I scrambled to my feet and lurched to her side. Her eyes were dazed and far
away, her face drawn and whiter than bone. Her slim body trembled to an inner
turmoil.
"Alice, what's wrong?" I cried. I put my hands on her face, trying to calm her.
Her eyes focused on mine abruptly, wide with pain.
"Edward," was all she whispered.
My body reacted faster than my mind was able to catch up with the implications
of her reply. I didn't at first understand why the room was spinning or where the
hollow roar in my ears was coming from. My mind labored, unable to make sense
of Alice's bleak face and how it could possibly relate to Edward, while my body
was already swaying, seeking the relief of unconsciousness before the reality
could hit me.
The stairway tilted at the oddest angle.
Jacob's furious voice was suddenly in my ear, hissing out a stream of profanities.
I felt a vague disapproval. His new friends were clearly a bad influence.
I was on the couch without understanding how I got there, and Jacob was still
swearing. It felt like there was an earthquake—the couch was shaking under me.
"What did you do to her?" he demanded.
Alice ignored him. "Bella? Bella, snap out of it. We have to hurry."
"Stay back," Jacob warned.
"Calm down, Jacob Black," Alice ordered. "You don't want to do that so close to
her."
"I don't think I'll have any problem keeping my focus," he retorted, but his voice
sounded a little cooler.
"Alice?" My voice was weak. "What happened?" I asked, even though I didn't
want to hear.
"I don't know," she suddenly wailed. "What is he thinking?!"
I labored to pull myself up despite the dizziness. I realized it was Jacob's arm I
was gripping for balance. He was the one shaking, not the couch.
Alice was pulling a small silver phone from her bag when my eyes relocated her.
Her fingers dialed the numbers so fast they were a blur.
"Rose, I need to talk to Carlisle now." Her voice whipped through the words.
"Fine, as soon as he's back. No, I'll be on a plane. Look, have you heard anything
from Edward?"
Alice paused now, listening with an expression that grew more appalled every
second. Her mouth opened into a little O of horror, and the phone shook in her
hand.
"Why?" she gasped. "Why would you do that, Rosalie?"
Whatever the answer was, it made her jaw tighten in anger. Her eyes flashed and
narrowed.
"Well, you're wrong on both counts, though, Rosalie, so that would be a problem,
don't you think?" she asked acidly. "Yes, that's right. She's absolutely fine—I was
wrong… It's a long story… But you're wrong about that part, too, that's why I'm
calling… Yes, that's exactly what I saw."
Alice's voice was very hard and her lips were pulled back from her teeth. "It's a
bit late for that, Rose. Save your remorse for someone who believes it." Alice
snapped the phone shut with a sharp twist of her fingers.
Her eyes were tortured as she turned to face me.
"Alice," I blurted out quickly. I couldn't let her speak yet. I needed a few more
seconds before she spoke and her words destroyed what was left of my life.
"Alice, Carlisle is back, though. He called just before…"
She stared at me blankly. "How long ago?" she asked in a hollow voice.
"Half a minute before you showed up."
"What did he say?" She really focused now, waiting for my answer.
"I didn't talk to him." My eyes flickered to Jacob.
Alice turned her penetrating gaze on him. He flinched, but held his place next to
me. He sit awkwardly, almost as if he were trying to shield me with his body.
"He asked for Charlie, and I told him Charlie wasn't here," Jacob muttered
resentfully.
"Is that everything?" Alice demanded, her voice like ice.
"Then he hung up on me," Jacob spit back. A tremor rolled down his spine,
shaking me with it.
"You told him Charlie was at the funeral," I reminded him.
Alice jerked her head back toward me "What were his exact words?"
"He said, 'He's not here,' and when Carlisle asked where Charlie was, Jacob said,
'At the funeral.'"
Alice moaned and sank to her knees.
"Tell me Alice," I whispered.
"That wasn't Carlisle on the phone," she said hopelessly.
"Are you calling me a liar?" Jacob snarled from beside me.
Alice ignored him, focusing on my bewildered face.
"It was Edward." The words were just a choked whisper. "He thinks you're dead."
My mind started to work again. These words weren't the ones I'd been afraid of,
and the relief cleared my head.
"Rosalie told him I killed myself, didn't she?" I said, sighing as I relaxed.
"Yes," Alice admitted, her eyes flashing hard again.
"In her defense, she did believe it. They rely on my sight far too much for
something that works so imperfectly. But for her to track him down to tell him
this! Didn't she realize… or care… ?" Her voice faded away in horror.
"And when Edward called here, he thought Jacob meant my funeral," I realized. It
stung to know how close I'd been, just inches away from his voice. My nails dug
into Jacob's arm, but he didn't flinch.
Alice looked at me strangely. "You're not upset," she whispered.
"Well, it's really rotten timing, but it will all get straightened out. The next time
he calls, someone will tell him… what… really…" I trailed off. Her gaze
strangled the words in my throat.
Why was she so panicked? Why was her face twisting now with pity and horror?
What was it she had said to Rosalie on the phone just now? Something about
what she'd seen… and Rosalie's remorse; Rosalie would never feel remorse for
anything that happened to me. But if she'd hurt her family, hurt her brother…
"Bella," Alice whispered. "Edward won't call again. He believed her."
"I. Don't. Understand." My mouth framed each word in silence. I couldn't push
the air out to actually say the words that would make her explain what that meant.
"He's going to Italy."
It took the length of one heartbeat for me to comprehend.
When Edward's voice came back to me now, it was not the perfect imitation of
my delusions. It was just the weak, flat tone of my memories. But the words
alone were enough to shred through my chest and leave it gaping open. Words
from a time when I would have bet everything that I owned or could borrow on
that fact that he loved me.
Well, I wasn't going to live without you, he'd said as we watched Romeo and
Juliet die, here in this very room. But I wasn't sure how to do it… I knew Emmett
and Jasper would never help… so I was thinking maybe I would go to Italy and
do something to provoke the Volturi… You don't irritate them. Not unless you
want to die.
Not unless you want to die.
"NO!" The half-shrieked denial was so loud after the whispered words, it made us
all jump. I felt the blood rushing to my face as I realized what she'd seen. "No!
No, no, no! He can't! He can't do that!"
"He made up his mind as soon as your friend confirmed that it was too late to
save you."
"But he… he left! He didn't want me anymore! What difference does it make
now? He knew I would die sometime!"
"I don't think he ever planned to outlive you by long," Alice said quietly.
"How dare he!" I screamed. I was on my feet now, and Jacob rose uncertainly to
put himself between Alice and me again.
"Oh, get out of the way, Jacob!" I elbowed my way around his trembling body
with desperate impatience. "What do we do?" I begged Alice. There had to be
something. "Can't we call him? Can Carlisle?"
She was shaking her head. "That was the first thing I tried. He left his phone in a
trash can in Rio—someone answered it…" she whispered.
"You said before we had to hurry. Hurry how? Let's do it, whatever it is!"
"Bella, I—I don't think I can ask you to…" She trailed off in indecision.
"Ask me!" I commanded.
She put her hands on my shoulders, holding me in place, her fingers flexing
sporadically to emphasize her words. "We may already be too late. I saw him
going to the Volturi… and asking to die." We both cringed, and my eyes were
suddenly blind. I blinked feverishly at the tears. "It all depends on what they
choose. I can't see that till they make a decision.
"But if they say no, and they might—Aro is fond of Carlisle, and wouldn't want
to offend him—Edward has a backup plan. They're very protective of their city. If
Edward does something to upset the peace, he thinks they'll act to stop him. And
he's right. They will."
I stared at her with my jaw clenched in frustration. I'd heard nothing yet that
would explain why we were still standing here.
"So if they agree to grant his favor, we're too late. If they say no, and he comes
up with a plan to offend them quickly enough, we're too late. If he gives into his
more theatrical tendencies… we might have time."
"Let's go!"
"Listen, Bella! Whether we are in time or not, we will be in the heart of the
Volturi city. I will be considered his accomplice if he is successful. You will be a
human who not only knows too much, but also smells too good. There's a very
good chance that they will eliminate us all—though in your case it won't be
punishment so much as dinnertime."
"This is what's keeping us here?" I asked in disbelief. "I'll go alone if you're
afraid." I mentally tabulated what money was left in my account, and wondered if
Alice would lend me the rest.
"I'm only afraid of getting you killed."
I snorted in disgust. "I almost get myself killed on a daily basis! Tell me what I
need to do!"
"You write a note to Charlie. I'll call the airlines."
"Charlie," I gasped.
Not that my presence was protecting him, but could I leave him here alone to
face…
"I'm not going to let anything happen to Charlie." Jacob's low voice was gruff and
angry. "Screw the treaty."
I glanced up at him, and he scowled at my panicked expression.
"Hurry, Bella," Alice interrupted urgently.
I ran to the kitchen, yanking the drawers open and throwing the contents all over
the floor as I searched for a pen. A smooth, brown hand held one out to me.
"Thanks," I mumbled, pulling the cap off with my teeth. He silently handed me
the pad of paper we wrote phone messages on. I tore off the top sheet and threw it
over my shoulder.
Dad, I wrote. I'm with Alice. Edward's in trouble. You can ground me when I get
back. I know it's a bad time. So sorry. Love you so much. Bella.
"Don't go," Jacob whispered. The anger was all gone now that Alice was out of
sight.
I wasn't about to waste time arguing with him. "Please, please, please take care of
Charlie," I said as I dashed back out to the front room. Alice was waiting in the
doorway with a bag over her shoulder.
"Get your wallet—you'll need ID. Please tell me you have a passport. I don't have
time to forge one."
I nodded and then raced up the stairs, my knees weak with gratitude that my
mother had wanted to marry Phil on a beach in Mexico. Of course, like all her
plans, it had fallen through. But not before I'd made all the practical arrangements
I could for her.
I tore through my room. I stuffed my old wallet, a clean T-shirt, and sweatpants
into my backpack, and then threw my toothbrush on top. I hurled myself back
down the stairs. The sense of deja vu was nearly stifling by this point. At least,
unlike the last time—when I'd run away from Forks to escape thirsty vampires
rather than to find them—I wouldn't have to say goodbye to Charlie in person.
Jacob and Alice were locked in some kind of confrontation in front of the open
door, standing so far apart you wouldn't assume at first that they were having a
conversation. Neither one seemed to notice my noisy reappearance.
"You might control yourself on occasion, but these leeches you're taking her to
—" Jacob was furiously accusing her.
"Yes. You're right, dog." Alice was snarling, too. "The Volturi are the very
essence of our kind—they're the reason your hair stands on end when you smell
me. They are the substance of your nightmares, the dread behind your instincts.
I'm not unaware of that."
"And you take her to them like a bottle of wine for a party!" he shouted.
"You think she'd be better off if I left her here alone, with Victoria stalking her?"
"We can handle the redhead."
"Then why is she still hunting?"
Jacob growled, and a shudder rippled through his torso.
"Stop that!" I shouted at them both, wild with impatience. "Argue when we get
back, let's go!"
Alice turned for the car, disappearing in her haste. I hurried after her, pausing
automatically to turn and lock the door.
Jacob caught my arm with a shivering hand. "Please, Bella. I'm begging."
His dark eyes were glistening with tears. A lump filled my throat.
"Jake, I have to—"
"You don't, though. You really don't. You could stay here with me. You could
stay alive. For Charlie. For me."
The engine of Carlisle's Mercedes purred; the rhythm of the thrumming spiked
when Alice revved it impatiently.
I shook my head, tears spattering from my eyes with the sharp motion. I pulled
my arm free, and he didn't fight me.
"Don't die, Bella," he choked out. "Don't go. Don't."
What if I never saw him again?
The thought pushed me past the silent tears; a sob broke out from my chest. I
threw my arms around his waist and hugged for one too-short moment, burying
my tear-wet face against his chest. He put his big hand on the back of my hair, as
if to hold me there.
"Bye, Jake." I pulled his hand from my hair, and kissed his palm. I couldn't bear
to look at his face. "Sorry," I whispered.
Then I spun and raced for the car. The door on the passenger side was open and
waiting. I threw my backpack over the headrest and slid in, slamming the door
behind me.
"Take care of Charlie!" I turned to shout out the window, but Jacob was nowhere
in sight. As Alice stomped on the gas and—with the tires screeching like human
screams—spun us around to face the road, I caught sight of a shred of white near
the edge of the trees. A piece of a shoe.
19. HATE
WE MADE OUR FLIGHT WITH SECONDS TO SPARE, AND THEN the true
torture began. The plane sat idle on the tarmac while the flight attendants strolled
—so casually—up and down the aisle, patting the bags in the overhead
compartments to make sure everything fit. The pilots leaned out of the cockpit,
chatting with them as they passed. Alice's hand was hard on my shoulder, holding
me in my seat while I bounced anxiously up and down.
"It's faster than running," she reminded me in a low voice.
I just nodded in time with my bouncing.
At last the plane rolled lazily from the gate, building speed with a gradual
steadiness that tortured me further. I expected some kind of relief when we
achieved liftoff, but my frenzied impatience didn't lessen.
Alice lifted the phone on the back of the seat in front of her before we'd stopped
climbing, turning her back on the stewardess who eyed her with disapproval.
Something about my expression stopped the stewardess from coming over to
protest.
I tried to tune out what Alice was murmuring to Jasper; I didn't want to hear the
words again, but some slipped through.
"I can't be sure, I keep seeing him do different things, he keeps changing his
mind… A killing spree through the city, attacking the guard, lifting a car over his
head in the main square… mostly things that would expose them—he knows
that's the fastest way to force a reaction…"
"No, you can't." Alice's voice dropped till it was nearly inaudible, though I was
sitting inches from her. Contrarily, I listened harder. "Tell Emmett no… Well, go
after Emmett and Rosalie and bring them back… Think about it, Jasper. If he
sees any of us, what do you think he will do?"
She nodded. "Exactly. I think Bella is the only chance—if there is a chance… I'll
do everything that can be done, but prepare Carlisle; the odds aren't good."
She laughed then, and there was a catch in her voice. "I've thought of that… Yes,
I promise." Her voice became pleading. "Don't follow me. I promise, Jasper. One
way or another, I'll get out… And I love you."
She hung up, and leaned back in her seat with her eyes closed. "I hate lying to
him."
"Tell me everything, Alice," I begged. "I don't understand. Why did you tell
Jasper to stop Emmett, why can't they come help us?"
"Two reasons," she whispered, her eyes still closed. "The first I told him. We
could try to stop Edward ourselves—if Emmett could get his hands on him, we
might be able to stop him long enough to convince him you're alive. But we can't
sneak up on Edward. And if he sees us coming for him, he'll just act that much
faster. He'll throw a Buiclc through a wall or something, and the Volturi will take
him down.
"That's the second reason of course, the reason I couldn't say to Jasper. Because if
they're there and the Volturi kill Edward, they'll fight them. Bella." She opened
her eyes and stared at me, beseeching. "If there were any chance we could win…
if there were a way that the four of us could save my brother by fighting for him,
maybe it would be different. But we can't, and, Bella, I can't lose Jasper like that."
I realized why her eyes begged for my understanding. She was protecting Jasper,
at our expense, and maybe at Edward's, too. I understood, and I did not think
badly of her. I nodded.
"Couldn't Edward hear you, though.'" I asked. "Wouldn't he know, as soon as he
heard your thoughts, that I was alive, that there was no point to this?"
Not that there was any justification, either way. I still couldn't believe that he was
capable of reacting like this. It made no sense! I remembered with painful clarity
his words that day on the sofa, while we watched Romeo and Juliet kill
themselves, one after the other. I wasn't going to live without you, he'd said, as if
it should be such an obvious conclusion. But the words he had spoken in the
forest as he'd left me had canceled all that out—forcefully.
"If he were listening," she explained. "But believe it or not, it's possible to lie
with your thoughts. If you had died, I would still try to stop him. And I would be
thinking 'she's alive, she's alive' as hard as I could. He knows that."
I ground my teeth in mute frustration.
"If there were any way to do this without you, Bella, I wouldn't be endangering
you like this. It's very wrong of me."
"Don't be stupid. I'm the last thing you should be worrying about." I shook my
head impatiently. "Tell me what you meant, about hating to lie to Jasper."
She smiled a grim smile. "I promised him I would get out before they killed me,
too. It's not something I can guarantee—not by a long shot." She raised her
eyebrows, as if willing me to take the danger more seriously.
"Who are these Volturi?" I demanded in a whisper. "What makes them so much
more dangerous than Emmett, Jasper, Rosalie, and you?" It was hard to imagine
something scarier than that.
She took a deep breath, and then abruptly leveled a dark glance over my
shoulder. I turned in time to see the man in the aisle seat looking away as if he
wasn't listening to us. He appeared to be a businessman, in a dark suit with a
power tie and a laptop on his knees. While I stared at him with irritation, he
opened the computer and very conspicuously put headphones on.
I leaned closer to Alice. Her lips were at my ears as she breathed the story.
"I was surprised that you recognized the name," she said. "That you understood
so immediately what it meant—when I said he was going to Italy. I thought I
would have to explain. How much did Edward tell you?"
"He just said they were an old, powerful family—like royalty. That you didn't
antagonize them unless you wanted to… die," I whispered. The last word was
hard to choke out.
"You have to understand," she said, her voice slower, more measured now. "We
Cullens are unique in more ways than you know. It's… abnormal for so many of
us to live together in peace. It's the same for Tanya's family in the north, and
Carlisle speculates that abstaining makes it easier for us to be civilized, to form
bonds based on love rather than survival or convenience. Even James's little
coven of three was unusually large—and you saw how easily Laurent left them.
Our kind travel alone, or in pairs, as a general rule. Carlisle's family is the biggest
in existence, as far as I know, with the one exception. The Volturi.
"There were three of them originally, Aro, Caius, and Marcus."
"I've seen them," I mumbled. "In the picture in Carlisle's study."
Alice nodded. "Two females joined them over time, and the five of them make up
the family. I'm not sure, but I suspect that their age is what gives them the ability
to live peacefully together. They are well over three thousand years old. Or
maybe it's their gifts that give them extra tolerance. Like Edward and I, Aro and
Marcus are… talented."
She continued before I could ask. "Or maybe it's just their love of power that
binds them together. Royalty is an apt description."
"But if there are only five—"
"Five that make up the family," she corrected. "That doesn't include their guard."
I took a deep breath. "That sounds… serious."
"Oh, it is," she assured me. "There were nine members of the guard that were
permanent, the last time we heard. Others are more… transitory. It changes. And
many of them are gifted as well—with formidable gifts, gifts that make what I
can do look like a parlor trick. The Volturi chose them for their abilities, physical
or otherwise."
I opened my mouth, and then closed it. I didn't think I wanted to know how bad
the odds were.
She nodded again, as if she understood exactly what I was thinking. "They don't
get into too many confrontations. No one is stupid enough to mess with them.
They stay in their city, leaving only as duty calls."
"Duty?" I wondered.
"Didn't Edward tell you what they do?"
"No," I said, feeling the blank expression on my face.
Alice looked over my head again, toward the businessman, and put her wintry
lips back to my ear.
"There's a reason he called them royalty… the ruling class. Over the millennia,
they have assumed the position of enforcing our rules—which actually translates
to punishing transgressors. They fulfill that duty decisively."
My eyes popped wide with shock. "There are rules?" I asked in a voice that was
too loud.
"Shh!"
"Shouldn't somebody have mentioned this to me earlier?" I whispered angrily. "I
mean, I wanted to be a… to be one of you! Shouldn't somebody have explained
the rules to me?"
Alice chuckled once at my reaction. "It's not that complicated, Bella. There's only
one core restriction—and if you think about it, you can probably figure it out for
yourself."
I thought about it. "Nope, I have no idea."
She shook her head, disappointed. "Maybe it's too obvious. We just have to keep
our existence a secret."
"Oh," I mumbled. It was obvious.
"It makes sense, and most of us don't need policing," she continued. "But, after a
few centuries, sometimes one of us gets bored. Or crazy. I dor't know. And then
the Volturi step in before it can compromise them, or the rest of us."
"So Edward…"
"Is planning to flout that in their own city—the city they've secretly held for three
thousand years, since the time of the Etruscans. They are so protective of their
city that they don't allow hunting within its walls. Volterra is probably the safest
city in the world—from vampire attack at the very least."
"But you said they didn't leave. How do they eat?"
"They don't leave. They bring in their food from the outside, from quite far away
sometimes. It gives their guard something to do when they're not out annihilating
mavericks. Or protecting Volterra from exposure…"
"From situations like this one, like Edward," I finished her sentence. It was
amazingly easy to say his name now. I wasn't sure what the difference was.
Maybe because I wasn't really planning on living much longer without seeing
him. Or at all, if we were too late. It was comforting to know that I would have an
easy out.
"I doubt they've ever had a situation quite like this," she muttered, disgusted.
"You don't get a lot of suicidal vampires."
The sound that escaped out of my mouth was very quiet, but Alice seemed to
understand that it was a cry of pain. She wrapped her thin, strong arm around my
shoulders.
"We'll do what we can, Bella. It's not over yet."
"Not yet." I let her comfort me, though I knew she thought our chances were
poor. "And the Volturi will get us if we mess up."
Alice stiffened. "You say that like it's a good thing."
I shrugged.
"Knock it off, Bella, or we're turning around in New York and going back to
Forks."
"What?"
"You know what. If we're too late for Edward, I'm going to do my damnedest to
get you back to Charlie, and I don't want any trouble from you. Do you
understand that?"
"Sure, Alice."
She pulled back slightly so that she could glare at me. "No trouble."
"Scout's honor," I muttered.
She rolled her eyes.
"Let me concentrate, now. I'm trying to see what he's planning."
She left her arm around me, but let her head fall back against the seat and closed
her eyes. She pressed her free hand to the side of her face, rubbing her fingertips
against her temple.
I watched her in fascination for a long time. Eventually, she became utterly
motionless, hei face like a stone sculpture. The minutes passed, and if I didn't
know better, I would have thought she'd fallen asleep. I didn't dare interrupt her
to ask what was going on.
I wished there was something safe for me to think about. I couldn't allow myself
to consider the horrors we were headed toward, or, more horrific yet, the chance
that we might fail—not if I wanted to keep from screaming aloud.
I couldn't anticipate anything, either. Maybe, if I were very, very, very lucky, I
would somehow be able to save Edward. But I wasn't so stupid as to think that
saving him would mean that I could stay with him. I was no different, no more
special than I'd been before. There would be no new reason for him to want me
now. Seeing him and losing him again…
I fought back against the pain. This was the price I had to pay to save his life. I
would pay it.
They showed a movie, and my neighbor got headphones. Sometimes I watched
the figures moving across the little screen, but I couldn't even tell if the movie
was supposed to be a romance or a horror film.
After an eternity, the plane began to descend toward New York City. Alice
remained in her trance. I dithered, reaching out to touch her, only to pull my hand
back again. This happened a dozen times before the plane touched town with a
jarring impact.
"Alice," I finally said. "Alice, we have to go."
I touched her arm.
Her eyes came open very slowly. She shook her head from side to side for a
moment.
"Anything new?" I asked in a low voice, conscious of the man listening on the
other side of me.
"Not exactly," she breathed in a voice I could barely catch. "He's getting closer.
He's deciding how he's going to ask."
We had to run for our connection, but that was good—better than having to wait.
As soon as the plane was in the air, Alice closed her eyes and slid back into the
same stupor as before. I waited as patiently as I could. When it was dark again, I
opened the window to stare out into the flat black that was no better than the
window shade.
I was grateful that I'd had so many months' practice with controlling my thoughts.
Instead of dwelling on the terrifying possibilities that, no matter what Alice said,
I did not intend to survive, I concentrated on lesser problems. Like, what I was
going to say to Charlie if I got back:' That was a thorny enough problem to
occupy several hours. And Jacob? He'd promised to wait for me, but did that
promise still apply? Would I end up home alone in Forks, with no one at all?
Maybe I didn't want to survive, no matter what happened.
It felt like seconds later when Alice shook my shoulder—I hadn't realized I'd
fallen asleep.
"Bella," she hissed, her voice a little too loud in the darkened cabin full of
sleeping humans.
I wasn't disoriented—I hadn't been out long enough for that.
"What's wrong?"
Alice's eyes gleamed in the dim light of a reading lamp in the row behind us.
"It's not wrong." She smiled fiercely. "It's right. They're deliberating, but they've
decided to tell him no."
"The Volturi?" I muttered, groggy.
"Of course, Bella, keep up. I can see what they're going to say."
"Tell me."
An attendant tiptoed down the aisle to us. "Can I get you ladies a pillow?" His
hushed whisper was a rebuke to our comparatively loud conversation.
"No, thank you." Alice beamed at up at him, her smile shockingly lovely. The
attendant's expression was dazed as he turned and stumbled his way back.
"Tell me," I breathed almost silently.
She whispered into my ear. "They're interested in him—they think his talent
could be uselul. They're going to offer him a place with them."
"What will he say?"
"I can't see that yet, but I'll bet it's colorful." She grinned again. "This is the first
good news—the first break. They're intrigued; they truly don't want to destroy him
—'wasteful,' that's the word Aro will use—and that may be enough to force him
to get creative. The longer he spends on his plans, the better for us."
It wasn't enough to make me hopeful, to make me feel the relief she obviously
felt. There were still so many ways that we could be too late. And if I didn't get
through the walls into the Volturi city, I wouldn't be able to stop Alice from
dragging me back home.
"Alice?"
"What?"
"I'm confused. How are you seeing this so clearly? And then other times, you see
things far away—things that don't happen?"
Her eyes tightened. I wondered if she guessed what I was thinking of.
"It's clear because it's immediate and close, and I'm really concentrating. The
faraway things that come on their own—those are just glimpses, faint maybes.
Plus, I see my kind more easily than yours. Edward is even easier because I'm so
attuned to him."
"You see me sometimes," I reminded her.
She shook her head. "Not as clearly."
I sighed. "I really wish you could have been right about me. In the beginning,
when you first saw things about me, before we even met…"
"What do you mean?"
"You saw me become one of you." I barely mouthed the words.
She sighed. "It was a possibility at the time."
"At the time," I repeated.
"Actually, Bella…" She hesitated, and then seemed to make a choice. "Honestly,
I think it's all gotten beyond ridiculous. I'm debating whether to just change you
myself."
I stared at her, frozen with shock. Instantly, my mind resisted her words. I
couldn't afford that kind of hope if she changed her mind.
"Did I scare you?" she wondered. "I thought that's what you wanted."
"I do!" I gasped. "Oh, Alice, do it now! I could help you so much—and I
wouldn't slow you down. Bite me!"
"Shh," she cautioned. The attendant was looking in our direction again. "Try to
be reasonable," she whispered. "We don't have enough time. We have to get into
Volterra tomorrow. You'd be writhing in pain for days." She made a face. "And I
don't think the other passengers would react well."
I bit my lip. "If you don't do it now, you'll change your mind."
"No." She frowned, her expression unhappy. "I don't think I will. He'll be furious,
but what will he be able to do about it?"
My heart beat faster. "Nothing at all."
She laughed quietly, and then sighed. "You have too much faith in me, Bella. I'm
not sure that I can. I'll probably just end up killing you."
"I'll take my chances."
"You are so bizarre, even for a human."
"Thanks."
"Oh well, this is purely hypothetical at this point, anyway. First we have to live
through tomorrow."
"Good point." But at least I had something to hope for if we did. If Alice made
good on her promise—and if she didn't kill me—then Edward could run after his
distractions all he wanted, and I could follow. I wouldn't let him be distracted.
Maybe, when I was beautiful and strong, he wouldn't want distractions.
"Go back to sleep," she encouraged me. "I'll wake you up when there's something
new."
"Right," I grumbled, certain that sleep was a lost cause now. Alice pulled her legs
up on the seat, wrapping her arms around them and leaning her forehead against
her knees. She rocked back and forth as she concentrated.
I rested my head against the seat, watching her, and the next thing I knew, she
was snapping the shade closed against the faint brightening in the eastern sky.
"What's happening?" I mumbled.
"They've told him no," she said quietly. I noticed at once that her enthusiasm was
gone.
My voice choked in my throat with panic. "What's he going to do?"
"It was chaotic at first. I was only getting flickers, he was changing plans so
quickly."
"What kinds of plans?" I pressed.
"There was a bad hour," she whispered. "He'd decided to go hunting."
She looked at me, seeing the comprehension in my face.
"In the city," she explained. "It got very close. He changed his mind at the last
minute."
"He wouldn't want to disappoint Carlisle," I mumbled. Not at the end.
"Probably," she agreed.
"Will there be enough time?" As I spoke, there was a shift in the cabin pressure. I
could feel the plane angling downward.
"I'm hoping so—if he sticks to his latest decision, maybe."
"What is that?"
"He's going to keep it simple. He's just going to walk out into the sun."
Just walk out into the sun. That was all.
It would be enough. The image of Edward in the meadow—glowing, shimmering
like his skin was made of a million diamond facets—was burned into my
memory. No human who saw that would ever forget. The Volturi couldn't
possibly allow it. Not if they wanted to keep their city inconspicuous.
I looked at the slight gray glow that shone through the opened windows. "We'll
be too late," I whispered, my throat closing in panic.
She shook her head. "Right now, he's leaning toward the melodramatic. He wants
the biggest audience possible, so he'll choose the main plaza, under the clock
tower. The walls are high there. He'll wait till the sun is exactly overhead."
"So we have till noon?"
"If we're lucky. If he sticks with this decision."
The pilot came on over the intercom, announcing, first in French and then in
English, our imminent landing. The seat belt lights dinged and flashed.
"How far is it from Florence to Volterra?"
"That depends on how fast you drive… Bella?"
"Yes?"
She eyed me speculatively. "How strongly are you opposed to grand theft auto?"
A bright yellow Porsche screamed to a stop a few feet in front of where I paced,
the word TURBO scrawled in silver cursive across its back. Everyone beside me
on the crowded airport sidewalk stared.
"Hurry, Bella!" Alice shouted impatiently through the open passenger window.
I ran to the door and threw myself in, feeling as though I might as well be
wearing a black stocking over my head.
"Sheesh, Alice," I complained. "Could you pick a more conspicuous car to steal?"
The interior was black leather, and the windows were tinted dark. It felt safer
inside, like nighttime.
Alice was already weaving, too fast, through the thick airport traffic—sliding
through tiny spaces between the cars as I cringed and fumbled for my seat belt.
"The important question," she corrected, "is whether I could have stolen a faster
car, and I don't think so. I got lucky."
"I'm sure that will be very comforting at the roadblock."
She trilled a laugh. "Trust me, Bella. If anyone sets up a roadblock, it will be
behind us." She hit the gas then, as if to prove her point.
I probably should have watched out the window as first the city of Florence and
then the Tuscan landscape flashed past with blurring speed. This was my first trip
anywhere, and maybe my last, too. But Alice's driving frightened me, despite the
fact that I knew I could trust her behind the wheel. And I was too tortured with
anxiety to really see the hills or the walled towns that looked like castles in the
distance.
"Do you see anything more?"
"There's something going on," Alice muttered. "Some kind of festival. The streets
are full of people and red flags. What's the date today?"
I wasn't entirely sure. "The nineteenth, maybe?"
"Well, that's ironic. It's Saint Marcus Day."
"Which means?"
She chuckled darkly. "The city holds a celebration every year. As the legend
goes, a Christian missionary, a Father Marcus—Marcus of the Voltun, in fact—
drove all the vampires from Volterra fifteen hundred years ago. The story claims
he was martyred in Romania, still trying to drive away the vampire scourge. Of
course that's nonsense—he's never left the city. But that's where some of the
superstitions about things like crosses and garlic come from. Father Marcus used
them so successfully. And vampires don't trouble Volterra, so they must work."
Her smile was sardonic. "It's become more of a celebration of the city, and
recognition for the police force—after all, Volterra is an amazingly safe city. The
police get the credit."
I was realizing what she meant when she'd said ironic. "They're not going to be
very happy if Edward messes things up for them on St. Marcus Day, are they?"
She shook her head, her expression grim. "No. They'll act very quickly."
I looked away, fighting against my teeth as they tried to break through the skin of
my lower lip. Bleeding was not the best idea right now.
The sun was terrifyingly high in the pale blue sky.
"He's still planning on noon?" I checked.
"Yes. He's decided to wait. And they're waiting for him."
"Tell me what I have to do."
She kept her eyes on the winding road—the needle on the speedometer was
touching the far right on the dial.
"You don't have to do anything. He just has to see you before he moves into the
light. And he has to see you before he sees me."
"How are we going to work that?"
A small red car seemed to be racing backward as Alice zoomed around it.
"I'm going to get you as close as possible, and then you're going to run in the
direction I point you."
I nodded.
"Try not to trip," she added. "We don't have time for a concussion today."
I groaned. That would be just like me—ruin everything, destroy the world, in a
moment of klutziness.
The sun continued to climb in the sky while Alice raced against it. It was too
brigh:, and that had me panicking. Maybe he wouldn't feel the need to wait for
noon after all.
"There," Alice said abruptly, pointing to the castle city atop the closest hill.
I stared at it, feeling the very first hint of a new kind of fear. Every minute since
yesterday morning—it seemed like a week ago—when Alice had spoken his
name at the foot of the stairs, there had been only one fear. And yet, now, as I
stared at the ancient sienna walls and towers crowning the peak of the steep hill, I
felt another, more selfish kind of dread thrill through me.
I supposed the city was very beautiful. It absolutely terrified me.
"Volterra," Alice announced in a flat, icy voice.
20. VOLTERRA
WE BEGAN THE STEEP CLIMB, AND THE ROAD GREW CONGESTED.
As we wound higher, the cars became too close together for Alice to weave
insanely between them anymore. We slowed to a crawl behind a little tan Peugeot.
"Alice," I moaned. The clock on the dash seemed to be speeding up.
"It's the only way in," she tried soothe me. But her voice was too strained to
comfort.
The cars continued to edge forward, one car length at a time. The sun beamed
down brilliantly, seeming already overhead.
The cars crept one by one toward the city. As we got closer, I could see cars
parked by the side of the road with people getting out to walk the test of the way.
At first I thought it was just impatience—something I could easily understand.
But then we came around a switchback, and I could see the filled parking lot
outside the city wall, the crowds of people walking through the gates. No one was
being allowed to drive through.
"Alice," I whispered urgently.
"I know," she said. Her face was chiseled from ice.
Now that I was looking, and we were crawling slowly enough to see, I could tell
that it was very windy. The people crowding toward the gate gripped their hats
and tugged their hair out of their faces. Their clothes billowed around them. I also
noticed that the color red was everywhere. Red shirts, red hats, red flags dripping
like long ribbons beside the gate, whipping in the wind—as I watched, the
brilliant crimson scarf one woman had tied around her hair was caught in a
sudden gust. It twisted up into the air above her, writhing like it was alive. She
reached for it, jumping in the air, but it continued to flutter higher, a patch of
bloody color against the dull, ancient walls.
"Bella." Alice spoke quickly in a fierce, low voice. "I can't see what the guard
here will decide now—if this doesn't work, you're going to have to go in alone.
You're going to have to run. Just keep asking for the Palazzo dei Priori, and
running in the direction they tell you. Don't get lost."
"Palazzo dei Priori, Palazzo dei Priori," I repeated the name over and over again,
trying to get it down.
"Or 'the clock tower,' if they speak English. I'll go around and try to find a
secluded spot somewhere behind the city where I can go over the wall."
I nodded. "Palazzo dei Priori."
"Edward will be under the clock tower, to the north of the square. There's a
narrow alleyway on the right, and he'll be in the shadow there. You have to get
his attention before he can move into the sun."
I nodded furiously.
Alice was near the front of the line. A man in a navy blue uniform was directing
the flow of traffic, turning the cars away from the full lot. They U-turned and
headed back to find a place beside the road. Then it was Alice's turn.
The uniformed man motioned lazily, not paying attention. Alice accelerated,
edging around him and heading for the gate. He shouted something at us, but held
his ground, waving frantically to keep the next car from following our bad
example.
The man at the gate wore a matching uniform. As we approached him, the
throngs of tourists passed, crowding the sidewalks, staring curiously at the pushy,
flashy Porsche.
The guard stepped into the middle of the street. Alice angled the car carefully
before she came to a full stop. The sun beat against my window, and she was in
shadow. She swiftly reached behind the seat and grabbed something from her bag.
The guard came around the car with an irritated expression, and tapped on her
window angrily.
She rolled the window down halfway, and I watched him do a double take when
he saw the face behind the dark glass.
"I'm sorry, only tour buses allowed in the city today, miss," he said in English,
with a heavy accent. He was apologetic, now, as if he wished he had better news
for the strikingly beautiful woman.
"It's a private tour," Alice said, flashing an alluring smile. She reached her hand
out cf the window, into the sunlight. I froze, until I realized she was wearing an
elbow-length, tan glove. She took his hand, still raised from tapping her window,
and pulled it into the car. She put something into his palm, and folded his fingers
around it.
His face was dazed as he retrieved his hand and stared at the thick roll of money
he now held. The outside bill was a thousand dollar bill.
"Is this a joke?" he mumbled.
Alice's smile was blinding. "Only if you think it's funny."
He looked at her, his eyes staring wide. I glanced nervously at the clock on the
dash. If Edward stuck to his plan, we had only five minutes left.
"I'm in a wee bit of a hurry," she hinted, still smiling.
The guard blinked twice, and then shoved the money inside his vest. He took a
step away from the window and waved us on. None of the passing people seemed
to notice the quiet exchange. Alice drove into the city, and we both sighed in
relief.
The street was very narrow, cobbled with the same color stones as the faded
cinnamon brown buildings that darkened the street with their shade. It had the
feel of an alleyway. Red flags decorated the walls, spaced only a few yards apart,
flapping in the wind that whistled through the narrow lane.
It was crowded, and the foot traffic slowed our progress.
"Just a little farther," Alice encouraged me; I was gripping the door handle, ready
to throw myself into the street as soon as she spoke the word.
She drove in quick spurts and sudden stops, and the people in the crowd shook
their fists at us and said angry words that I was glad I couldn't understand. She
turned onto a little path that couldn't have been meant for cars; shocked people
had to squeeze into doorways as we scraped by. We found another street at the
end. The buildings were taller here; they leaned together overhead so that no
sunlight touched the pavement—the thrashing red flags on either side nearly met.
The crowd was thicker here than anywhere else. Alice stopped the car. I had the
door open before we were at a standstill.
She pointed to where the street widened into a patch of bright openness. "There—
we're at the southern end of the square. Run straight across, to the right of the
clock tower. I'll find a way around—"
Her breath caught suddenly, and when she spoke again, her voice was a hiss.
"They're everywhere?"
I froze in place, but she pushed me out of the car. "Forget about them. You have
two minutes. Go, Bella, go!" she shouted, climbing out of the car as she spoke.
I didn't pause to watch Alice melt into the shadows. I didn't stop to close my door
behind me. I shoved a heavy woman out of my way and ran flat out, head down,
paying little attention to anything but the uneven stones beneath my feet.
Coming out of the dark lane, I was blinded by the brilliant sunlight beating down
into the principal plaza. The wind whooshed into me, flinging my hair into my
eyes and blinding me further. It was no wonder that I didn't see the wall of flesh
until I'd smacked into it.
There was no pathway, no crevice between the close pressed bodies. I pushed
against them furiously, fighting the hands that shoved back. I heard exclamations
of irritation and even pain as I battled my way through, but none were in a
language I understood. The faces were a blur of anger and surprise, surrounded
by the ever-present red. A blond woman scowled at me, and the red scarf coiled
around her neck looked like a gruesome wound. A child, lifted on a man's
shoulders to see over the crowd, grinned down at me, his lips distended over a set
of plastic vampire fangs.
The throng jostled around me, spinning me the wrong direction. I was glad the
clock was so visible, or I'd never keep my course straight. But both hands on the
clock pointed up toward the pitiless sun, and, though I shoved viciously against
the crowd, I knew I was too late. I wasn't halfway across. I wasn't going to make
it. I was stupid and slow and human, and we were all going to die because of it.
I hoped Alice would get out. I hoped that she would see me from some dark
shadow and know that I had failed, so she could go home to Jasper.
I listened, above the angry exclamations, trying to hear the sound of discovery:
the gasp, maybe the scream, as Edward came into someone's view.
But there was a break in the crowd—I could see a bubble of space ahead. I
pushed urgently toward it, not realizing till I bruised my shins against the bricks
that there was a wide, square fountain set into the center of the plaza.
I was nearly crying with relief as I flung my leg over the edge and ran through the
knee-deep water. It sprayed all around me as I thrashed my way across the pool.
Even in the sun, the wind was glacial, and the wet made the cold actually painful.
But the fountain was very wide; it let me cross the center of the square and then
some in mere seconds. I didn't pause when I hit the far edge—I used the low wall
as a springboard, throwing myself into the crowd.
They moved more readily for me now, avoiding the icy water that splattered from
my dripping clothes as I ran. I glanced up at the clock again.
A deep, booming chime echoed through the square. It throbbed in the stones
under my feet. Children cried, covering their ears. And I started screaming as I
ran.
"Edward!" I screamed, knowing it was useless. The crowd was too loud, and my
voice was breathless with exertion. But I couldn't stop screaming.
The clock tolled again. I ran past a child in his mother's arms—his hair was
almost white in the dazzling sunlight. A circle of tall men, all wearing red
blazers, called out warnings as I barreled through them. The clock tolled again.
On the other side of the men in blazers, there was a break in the throng, space
between the sightseers who milled aimlessly around me. My eyes searched the
dark narrow passage to the right of the wide square edifice under the tower. I
couldn't see the street level—there were still too many people in the way. The
clock tolled again.
It was hard to see now. Without the crowd to break the wind, it whipped at my
face and burned my eyes. I couldn't be sure if that was the reason behind my
tears, or if I was crying in defeat as the clock tolled again.
A little family of four stood nearest to the alley's mouth. The two girls wore
crimson dresses, with matching ribbons tying their dark hair back. The father
wasn't tall. It seemed like I could see something bright in the shadows, just over
his shoulder. I hurtled toward them, trying to see past the stinging tears. The
clock tolled, and the littlest girl clamped her hands over her ears.
The older girl, just waist high on her mother, hugged her mother's leg and stared
into the shadows behind them. As I watched, she tugged on her mother's elbow
and pointed toward the darkness. The clock tolled, and I was so close now.
I was close enough to hear her high-pitched voice. Her father stared at me in
surprise as I bore down on them, rasping out Edward's name over and over again.
The older girl giggled and said something to her mother, gesturing toward the
shadows again impatiently.
I swerved around the father—he clutched the baby out of my way—and sprinted
for the gloomy breach behind them as the clock tolled over my head.
"Edward, no!" I screamed, but my voice was lost in the roar of the chime.
I could see him now. And I could see that he could not see me.
It was really him, no hallucination this time. And I realized that my delusions
were more flawed than I'd realized; they'd never done him justice.
Edward stood, motionless as a statue, just a few feet from the mouth of the alley.
His eyes were closed, the rings underneath them deep purple, his arms relaxed at
his sides, his palms turned forward. His expression was very peaceful, like he
was dreaming pleasant things. The marble skin of his chest was bare—there was
a small pile of white fabric at his feet. The light reflecting from the pavement of
the square gleamed dimly from his skin.
I'd never seen anything more beautiful—even as I ran, gasping and screaming, I
could appreciate that. And the last seven months meant nothing. And his words in
the forest meant nothing. And it did not matter if he did not want me. I would
never want anything but him, no matter how long I lived.
The clock tolled, and he took a large stride toward the light.
"No!" I screamed. "Edward, look at me!"
He wasn't listening. He smiled very slightly. He raised his foot to take the step
that would put him directly in the path of the sun.
I slammed into him so hard that the force would have hurled me to the ground if
his arms hadn't caught me and held me up. It knocked my breath out of me and
snapped my head back.
His dark eyes opened slowly as the clock tolled again.
He looked down at me with quiet surprise.
"Amazing," he said, his exquisite voice full of wonder, slightly amused. "Carlisle
was right."
"Edward," I tried to gasp, but my voice had no sound. "You've got to get back
into the shadows. You have to move!"
He seemed bemused. His hand brushed softly against my cheek. He didn't appear
to notice that I was trying to force him back. I could have been pushing against
the alley walls for all the progress I was making. The clock tolled, but he didn't
react.
It was very strange, for I knew we were both in mortal danger. Still, in that
instant, I felt well. Whole. I could feel my heart racing in my chest, the blood
pulsing hot and fast through my veins again. My lungs filled deep with the sweet
scent that came off his skin. It was like there had never been any hole in my
chest. I was perfect—not healed, but as if there had been no wound in the first
place.
"I can't believe how quick it was. I didn't feel a thing—they're very good," he
mused, closing his eyes again and pressing his lips against my hair. His voice was
like honey and velvet. "Death, that hath sucked the honey of thy breath, hath had
no power yet upon thy beauty," he murmured, and I recognized the line spoken by
Romeo in the tomb. The clock boomed out its final chime "You smell just exactly
the same as always," he went on. "So maybe this is hell. I don't care. I'll take it."
"I'm not dead," I interrupted. "And neither are you! Please Edward, we have to
move. They can't be far away!"
I struggled in his arms, and his brow furrowed in confusion.
"What was that?" he asked politely.
"We're not dead, not yet! But we have to get out of here before the Volturi—"
Comprehension flickered on his face as I spoke. Before I could finish, he
suddenly yanked me away from the edge of the shadows, spinning me effortlessly
so that my back was tight against the brick wall, and his back was to me as he
faced away into the alley. His arms spread wide, protectively, in front of me.
I peeked under his arm to see two dark shapes detach themselves from the gloom.
"Greetings, gentlemen," Edward's voice was calm and pleasant, on the surface. "I
don't think I'll be requiring your services today. I would appreciate it very much,
however, if you would send my thanks to your masters."
"Shall we take this conversation to a more appropriate venue?" a smooth voice
whispered menacingly.
"I don't believe that will be necessary." Edward's voice was harder now. "I know
your instructions, Felix. I haven't broken any rules."
"Felix merely meant to point out the proximity of the sun," the other shadow said
in a soothing tone. They were both concealed within smoky gray cloaks that
reached to the ground and undulated in the wind. "Let us seek better cover."
"I'll be right behind you," Edward said dryly. "Bella, why don't you go back to
the square and enjoy the festival?"
"No, bring the girl," the first shadow said, somehow injecting a leer into his
whisper.
"I don't think so." The pretense of civility disappeared. Edward's voice was flat
and icy. His weight shifted infinitesimally, and I could see that he was preparing
to fight.
"No." I mouthed the word.
"Shh," he murmured, only for me.
"Felix," the second, more reasonable shadow cautioned. "Not here." He turned to
Edward. "Aro would simply like to speak with you again, if you have decided not
to force our hand after all."
"Certainly," Edward agreed. '"But the girl goes free."
"I'm afraid that's not possible," the polite shadow said regretfully. "We do have
rules to obey."
"Then I'm afraid that I'll be unable to accept Aro's invitation, Demetri."
"That's just fine," Felix purred. My eyes were adjusting to the deep shade, and I
could see that Felix was very big, tall and thick through the shoulders. His size
reminded me of Emmett.
"Aro will be disappointed," Demetri sighed.
"I'm sure he'll survive the letdown," Edward replied.
Felix and Demetri stole closer toward the mouth of the alley, spreading out
slightly so they could come at Edward from two sides. They meant to force him
deeper into the alley, to avoid a scene. No reflected light found access to their
skin; they were safe inside their cloaks.
Edward didn't move an inch. He was dooming himself by protecting me.
Abruptly, Edward's head whipped around, toward the darkness of the winding
alley, and Demetri and Felix did the same, in response to some sound or
movement too subtle for my senses.
"Let's behave ourselves, shall we?" a lilting voice suggested. "There are ladies
present."
Alice tripped lightly to Edward's side, her stance casual. There was no hint of any
underlying tension. She looked so tiny, so fragile. Her little arms swung like a
child's.
Yet Demetri and Felix both straightened up, their cloaks swirling slightly as a
gust of wind funneled through the alley. Felix's face soured. Apparently, they
didn't like even numbers.
"We're not alone," she reminded them.
Demetri glanced over his shoulder. A few yards into the square, the little family,
with the girls in their red dresses, was watching us. The mother was speaking
urgently to her husband, her eyes on the five of us. She looked away when
Demetri met her gaze. The man walked a few steps farther into the plaza, and
tapped one of the red-blazered men on the shoulder.
Demetri shook his head. "Please, Edward, let's be reasonable," he said.
"Let's," Edward agreed. "And we'll leave quietly now, with no one the wiser."
Demetri sighed in frustration. "At least let us discuss this more privately."
Six men in red now joined the family as they watched us with anxious
expressions. I was very conscious of Edward's protective stance in front of me—
sure that this was what caused their alarm. I wanted to scream to them to run.
Edward's teeth came together audibly. "No."
Felix smiled.
"Enough."
The voice was high, reedy, and n came from behind us.
I peeked under Edward's other arm to see a small, dark shape coming toward us.
By the way the edges billowed, I knew it would be another one of them. Who
else?
At first I thought it was a young boy. The newcomer was as tiny as Alice, with
lank, pale brown hair trimmed short. The body under the cloak—which was
darker, almost black—was slim and androgynous. But the face was too pretty for
a boy. The wide-eyed, full-lipped face would make a Botticelli angel look like a
gargoyle. Even allowing for the dull crimson irises.
Her size was so insignificant that the reaction to her appearance confused me.
Felix and Demetri relaxed immediately, stepping back from their offensive
positions to blend again with the shadows of the overhanging walls.
Edward dropped his arms and relaxed his position as well—but in defeat.
"Jane," he sighed in recognition and resignation.
Alice folded her arms across her chest, her expression impassive.
"Follow me," Jane spoke again, her childish voice a monotone. She turned her
back on us and drifted silently into the dark.
Felix gestured for us to go first, smirking.
Alice walked after the little Jane at once. Edward wrapped his arm around my
waist and pulled me along beside her. The alley angled slightly downward as it
narrowed. I looked up at him with frantic questions in my eyes, but he just shook
his head. Though I couldn't hear the others behind us, I was sure they were there.
"Well, Alice," Edward said conversationally as we walked. "I suppose I shouldn't
be surprised to see you here."
"It was my mistake," Alice answered in the same tone. "It was my job to set it
right."
"What happened?" His voice was polite, as if he were barely interested. I
imagined this was due to the listening ears behind us.
"It's a long story." Alice's eyes flickered toward me and away. "In summary, she
did jump off a cliff, but she wasn't trying to kill herself. Bella's all about the
extreme sports these days."
I flushed and turned my eyes straight ahead, looking after the dark shadow that I
could no longer see. I could imagine what he was hearing in Alice's thoughts
now. Near-drownings, stalking vampires, werewolf friends…
"Hm," Edward said curtly, and the casual tone of his voice was gone.
There was a loose curve to the alley, still slanting downward, so I didn't see the
squared-off dead end coming until we reached the flat, windowless, brick face.
The little one called Jane was nowhere to be seen.
Alice didn't hesitate, didn't break pace as she strode toward the wall. Then, with
easy grace, she slid down an open hole in the street.
It looked like a drain, sunk into the lowest point of the paving. I hadn't noticed it
until Alice disappeared, but the grate was halfway pushed aside. The hole was
small, and black.
I balked.
"It's all right, Bella," Edward said in a low voice. "Alice will catch you."
I eyed the hole doubtfully. I imagine he would have gone first, if Demetri and
Felix hadn't been waiting, smug and silent, behind us.
I crouched down, swinging my legs into the narrow gap.
"Alice?" I whispered, voice trembling.
"I'm right here, Bella," she reassured me. Her voice came from too far below to
make me feel better.
Edward took my wrists—his hands felt like stones in winter—and lowered me
into the blackness.
"Ready?" he asked.
"Drop her," Alice called.
I closed my eyes so I couldn't see the darkness, scrunching them together in
terror, clamping my mouth shut so I wouldn't scream. Edward let me fall.
It was silent and short. The air whipped past me for just half a second, and then,
with a huff as I exhaled, Alice's waiting arms caught me.
I was going to have bruises; her arms were very hard. She stood me upright.
It was dim, but not black at the bottom. The light from the hole above provided a
faint glow, reflecting wetly from the stones under my feet. The light vanished for
a second, and then Edward was a faint, white radiance beside me. He put his arm
around me, holding me close to his side, and began to tow me swiftly forward. I
wrapped both arms around his cold waist, and tripped and stumbled my way
across the uneven stone surface. The sound of the heavy grate sliding over the
drain hole behind us rang with metallic finality.
The dim light from the street was quickly lost in the gloom. The sound of my
staggering footsteps echoed through the black space; it sounded very wide, but I
couldn't be sure. There were no sounds other than my frantic heartbeat and my
feet on the wet stones—except for once, when an impatient sigh whispered from
behind me.
Edward held me tightly. He reached his free hand across his body to hold my
face, too, his smooth thumb tracing across my lips. Now and then, I felt his face
press into my hair. I realized that this was the only reunion we would get, and I
clutched myself closer to him.
For now, it felt like he wanted me, and that was enough to offset the horror of the
subterranean tunnel and the prowling vampires behind us. It was probably no
more than guilt—the same guilt that compelled him to come here to die when
he'd believed that it was his fault that I'd killed myself. But I felt his lips press
silently against my forehead, and I didn't care what the motivation was. At least I
could be with him again before I died. That was better than a long life.
I wished I could ask him exactly what was going to happen now. I wanted
desperately to know how we were going to die—as if that would somehow make
it better, knowing in advance. But I couldn't speak, even in a whisper, surrounded
as we were. The others could hear everything—my every breath, my every
heartbeat.
The path beneath our feet continued to slant downward, taking us deeper into the
ground, and it made me claustrophobic. Only Edward's hand, soothing against my
face, kept me from screaming out loud.
I couldn't tell where the light was coming from, but it slowly turned dark gray
instead of black. We were in a low, arched tunnel. Long trails of ebony moisture
seeped down the gray stones, like they were bleeding ink.
I was shaking, and I thought it was from fear. It wasn't until my teeth started to
chatter together that I realized I was cold. My clothes were still wet, and the
temperature underneath the city was wintry. As was Edward's skin.
He realized this at the same time I did, and let go of me, keeping only my hand.
"N-n-no," I chattered, throwing my arms around him. I didn't care if I froze. Who
knew how long we had left?
His cold hand chafed against my arm, trying to warm me with the friction.
We hurried through the tunnel, or it felt like hurrying to me. My slow progress
irritated someone—I guessed Felix—and I heard him heave a sigh now and then.
At the end of the tunnel was a grate—the iron bars were rusting, but thick as my
arm. A small door made of thinner, interlaced bars was standing open. Edward
ducked through and hurried on to a larger, brighter stone room. The grille
slammed shut with a clang, followed by the snap of a lock. I was too afraid to
look behind me.
On the other side of the long room was a low, heavy wooden door. It was very
thick—as I could tell because it, too, stood open.
We stepped through the door, and I glanced around me in surprise, relaxing
automatically. Beside me, Edward tensed, his jaw clenched tight.
21 VERDICT
WE WERE IN A BRIGHTLY LIT, UNREMARKABLE HALLWAY. The walls
were off-white, the floor carpeted in industrial gray. Common rectangular
fluorescent lights were spaced evenly along the ceiling. It was warmer here, for
which I was grateful. This hall seemed very benign after the gloom of the
ghoulish stone sewers.
Edward didn't seem to agree with my assessment. He glowered darkly down the
long hallway, toward the slight, black shrouded figure at the end, standing by an
elevator.
He pulled me along, and Alice walked on my other side. The heavy door creaked
shut behind us, and then there was the thud of a bolt sliding home.
Jane waited by the elevator, one hand holding the doors open for us. Her
expression was apathetic.
Once inside the elevator, the three vampires that belonged to the Volturi relaxed
further. They threw back their cloaks, letting the hoods fall back on their
shoulders. Felix and Demetri were both of a slightly olive complexion—it looked
odd combined with their chalky pallor. Felix's black hair was cropped short, but
Demetri's waved to his shoulders. Their irises were deep crimson around the
edges, darkening until they were black around the pupil. Under the shrouds, their
clothes were modern, pale, and nondescript. I cowered in the corner, cringing
against Edward. His hand still rubbed against my arm. He never took his eyes off
Jane.
The elevator ride was short; we stepped out into what looked like a posh office
reception area. The walls were paneled in wood, the floors carpeted in thick, deep
green. There were no windows, but large, brightly lit paintings of the Tuscan
countryside hung everywhere as replacements. Pale leather couches were
arranged in cozy groupings, and the glossy tables held crystal vases full of
vibrantly colored bouquets. The flowers' smell reminded me of a funeral home.
In the middle of the room was a high, polished mahogany counter. I gawked in
astonishment at the woman behind it.
She was tall, with dark skin and green eyes. She would have been very pretty in
any other company—but not here. Because she was every bit as human as I was. I
couldn't comprehend what this human woman was doing here, totally at ease,
surrounded by vampnes.
She smiled politely in welcome. "Good afternoon, Jane," she said. There was no
surprise in her face as she glanced at Jane's company. Not Edward, his bare chest
glinting dimly in the white lights, or even me, disheveled and comparatively
hideous.
Jane nodded. "Gianna." She continued toward a set of double doors in the back of
the room, and we followed.
As Felix passed the desk, he winked at Gianna, and she giggled.
On the other side of the wooden doors was a different kind of reception. The pale
boy in the pearl gray suit could have been Jane's twin. His hair was darker, and
his lips were not as full, but he was just as lovely. He came forward to meet us.
He smiled, reaching for her. "Jane."
"Alec," she responded, embracing the boy. They kissed each other's cheeks on
both sides. Then he looked at us.
"They send you out for one and you come back with two… and a half," he noted,
looking at me. "Nice work."
She laughed—the sound sparkled with delight like a baby's cooing.
"Welcome back, Edward," Alec greeted him. "You seem in a better mood."
"Marginally," Edward agreed in a flat voice. I glanced at Edward's hard face, and
wondered how his mood could have been darker before.
Alec chuckled, and examined me as I clung to Edward's side. "And this is the
cause of all the trouble?" he asked, skeptical.
Edward only smiled, his expression contemptuous. Then he froze.
"Dibs," Felix called casually from behind.
Edward turned, a low snarl building deep in his chest. Felix smiled—his hand
was raised, palm up; he curled his fingers twice, inviting Edward forward.
Alice touched Edward's arm. "Patience," she cautioned him.
They exchanged a long glance, and I wished I could hear what she was telling
him. I figured that it was something to do with not attacking Felix, because
Edward took a deep breath and turned back to Alec.
"Aro will be so pleased to see you again," Alec said, as if nothing had passed.
"Let's not keep him waiting," Jane suggested.
Edward nodded once.
Alec and Jane, holding hands, led the way down yet another wide, ornate hall—
would there ever be an end?
They ignored the doors at the end of the hall—doors entirely sheathed in gold—
stopping halfway down the hall and sliding aside a piece of the paneling to
expose a plain wooden door. It wasn't locked. Alec held it open for Jane.
I wanted to groan when Edward pulled me through to the other side of the door. It
was the same ancient stone as the square, the alley, and the sewers. And it was
dark and cold again.
The stone antechamber was not large. It opened quickly into a brighter,
cavernous room, perfectly round like a huge castle turret… which was probably
exactly what it was.
Two stories up, long window slits threw thin rectangles of bright sunlight onto
the stone floor below. There were no artificial lights. The only furniture in the
room were several massive wooden chairs, like thrones, that were spaced
unevenly, flush with the curving stone walls. In the very center of the circle, in a
slight depression, was another drain. I wondered if they used it as an exit, like the
hole in the street.
The room was not empty. A handful of people were convened in seemingly
relaxed conversation. The murmur of low, smooth voices was a gentle hum in the
air. As I watched, a pair of pale women in summer dresses paused in a patch of
light, and, like prisms, their skin threw the light in rainbow sparkles against the
sienna walls.
The exquisite faces all turned toward our party as we entered the room. Most of
the immortals were dressed in inconspicuous pants and shirts—things that
wouldn't stick out at all on the streets below. But the man who spoke first wore
one of the long robes. It was pitch-black, and brushed against the floor. For a
moment, I thought his long, jet-black hair was the hood of his cloak.
"Jane, dear one, you've returned!" he cried in evident delight. His voice was just a
soft sighing.
He drifted forward, and the movement flowed with such surreal grace that I
gawked, my mouth hangmg open. Even Alice, whose every motion looked like
dancing, could not compare.
I was only more astonished as he floated closer and I could see his face. It was
not like the unnaturally attractive faces that surrounded him (for he did not
approach us alone; the entire group converged around him, some following, and
some walking ahead of him with the alert manner of bodyguards). I couldn't
decide if his face was beautiful or not. I suppose the features were perfect. But he
was as different from the vampires beside him as they were from me. His skin
was translucently white, like onionskin, and it looked just as delicate—it stood in
shocking contrast to the long black hair that framed his face. I felt a strange,
horrifying urge to touch his cheek, to see if it was softer than Edward's or Alice's,
or if it was powdery, like chalk. His eyes were red, the same as the others around
him, but the color was clouded, milky; I wondered if his vision was affected by
the haze.
He glided to Jane, took her face in his papery hands, kissed her lightly on her full
lips, and then floated back a step.
"Yes, Master." Jane smiled; the expression made her look like an angelic child. "I
brought him back alive, just as you wished."
"Ah, Jane." He smiled, too. "You are such a comfort to me."
He turned his misty eyes toward us, and the smile brightened—became ecstatic.
"And Alice and Bella, too!" he rejoiced, clapping his thin hands together. "This is
a happy surprise! Wonderful!"
I stared in shock as he called our names informally, as if we were old friends
dropping in for an unexpected visit.
He turned to our hulking escort. "Felix, be a dear and tell my brothers about our
company. I'm sure they wouldn't want to miss this."
"Yes, Master." Felix nodded and disappeared back the way we had come.
"You see, Edward?" The strange vampire turned and smiled at Edward like a
fond but scolding grandfather. "What did I tell you? Aren't you glad that I didn't
give you what you wanted yesterday?"
"Yes, Aro, I am," he agreed, tightening his arm around my waist.
"I love a happy ending." Aro sighed. "They are so rare. But I want the whole
story. How did this happen? Alice?" He turned to gaze at Alice with curious,
misty eyes. "Your brother seemed to think you infallible, but apparently there
was some mistake."
"Oh, I'm far from infallible." She flashed a dazzling smile. She looked perfectly
at ease, except that her hands were balled into tight little fists. "As you can see
today, I cause problems as often as I cure them."
"You're too modest," Aro chided. "I've seen some of your more amazing exploits,
and I must admit I've never observed anything like your talent. Wonderful!"
Alice flickered a glance at Edward. Aro did not miss it.
"I'm sorry, we haven't been introduced properly at all, have we? It's just that I feel
like I know you already, and I tend get ahead of myself. Your brother introduced
us yesterday, in a peculiar way. You see, I share some of your brother's talent,
only I am limited in a way that he is not." Aro shook his head; his tone was
envious.
"And also exponentially more powerful," Edward added dryly. He looked at
Alice as he swiftly explained. "Aro needs physical contact to hear your thoughts,
but he hears much more than I do. You know I can only hear what's passing
through your head in the moment. Aro hears every thought your mind has ever
had."
Alice raised her delicate eyebrows, and Edward inclined his head.
Aro didn't miss that either.
"But to be able to hear from a distance…" Aro sighed, gesturing toward the two
of them, and the exchange that had just taken place. "That would be so
convenient."
Aro looked over our shoulders. All the other heads turned in the same direction,
including Jane, Alec, and Demetri, who stood silently beside us.
I was the slowest to turn. Felix was back, and behind him floated two more blackrobed
men. Both looked very much like Aro, one even had the same flowing
black hair. The other had a shock of snow-white hair—the same shade as his face
—that brushed against his shoulders. Their faces had identical, paper-thin skin.
The trio from Carlisle's painting was complete, unchanged by the last three
hundred years since it was painted.
"Marcus, Caius, look!" Aro crooned. "Bella is alive after all, and Alice is here
with her! Isn't that wonderful?"
Neither of the other two looked as if wonderful would be their first choice of
words. The dark-haired man seemed utterly bored, like he'd seen too many
millennia of Aro's enthusiasm. The other's hice was sour under the snowy hair.
Their lack of interest did not curb Aro's enjoyment.
"Let us have the story," Aro almost sang in his feathery voice.
The white-haired ancient vampire drifted away, gliding toward one of the
wooden thrones. The other paused beside Aro, and he reached his hand out, at
first I thought to take Aro's hand. But he just touched Aro's palm briefly and then
dropped his hand to his side. Aro raised one black brow. I wondered how his
papery skin did not crumple in the effort.
Edward snorted very quietly, and Alice looked at him, curious.
"Thank you, Marcus," Aro said. "That's quite interesting."
I realized, a second late, that Marcus was letting Aro know his thoughts.
Marcus didn't look interested. He glided away from Aro to join the one who must
be Caius, seated against the wall. Two of the attending vampires followed silently
behind him—bodyguards, like I'd thought before. I could see that the two women
in the sundresses had gone to stand beside Caius in the same manner. The idea of
any vampire needing a guard was faintly ridiculous to me, but maybe the ancient
ones were as frail as their skin suggested.
Aro was shaking his head. "Amazing,"' he said. "Absolutely amazing."
Alice's expression was frustrated. Edward turned to her and explained again in a
swift, low voice. "Marcus sees relationships. He's surprised by the intensity of
ours."
Aro smiled. "So convenient," he repeated to himself. Then he spoke to us. "It
takes quite a bit to surprise Marcus, I can assure you."
I looked at Marcus's dead face, and I believed that.
"It's just so difficult to understand, even now," Aro mused, staring at Edward's
arm wrapped around me. It was hard for me to follow Aro's chaotic train of
thought. I struggled to keep up. "How can you stand so close to het like that?"
"It's not without effort," Edward answered calmly.
"But still—la tua cantante! What a waste!"
Edward chuckled once without humor. "I look at it more as a price."
Aro was skeptical. "A very high price."
"Opportunity cost."
Aro laughed. "If I hadn't smelled her through your memories, I wouldn't have
believed the call of anyone's blood could be so strong. I've never felt anything
like it myself. Most of us would trade much for such a gift, and yet you…"
"Waste it," Edward finished, his voice sarcastic now.
Aro laughed again. "Ah, how I miss my friend Carlisle! You remind me of him—
only he was not so angry."
"Carlisle outshines me in many other ways as well."
"I certainly never thought to see Carlisle bested for self-control of all things, but
you put him to shame."
"Hardly." Edward sounded impatient. As if he were tired of the preliminaries. It
made me more afraid; I couldn't help but try to imagine what he expected would
follow.
"I am gratified by his success," Aro mused. "Your memories of him are quite a
gift for me, though they astonish me exceedingly. I am surprised by how it…
pleases me, his success in this unorthodox path he's chosen. I expected that he
would waste, weaken with time. I'd scoffed at his plan to find others who would
share his peculiar vision. Yet, somehow, I'm happy to be wrong."
Edward didn't reply.
"But your restraint!" Aro sighed. "I did not know such strength was possible. To
inure yourself against such a siren call, not just once but again and again—if I
had not felt it myself, I would not have believed."
Edward gazed back at Aro's admiration with no expression. I knew his face well
enough—time had not changed that—to guess at something seething beneath the
surface. I fought to keep my breathing even.
"Just remembering how she appeals to you…" Aro chuckled. "It makes me
thirsty."
Edward tensed.
"Don't be disturbed," Aro reassured him. "I mean her no harm. But I am so
curious, about one thing in particular." He eyed me with bright interest. "May I?"
he asked eagerly, lifting one hand.
"Ask her," Edward suggested in a flat voice.
"Of course, how rude of me!" Aro exclaimed. "Bella," he addressed me directly
now. "I'm fascinated that you are the one exception to Edward's impressive talent
—so very interesting that such a thing should occur! And I was wondering, since
our talents are similar in many ways, if you would be so kind as to allow me to try
—to see if you are an exception for me, as well?"
My eyes flashed up to Edward's face in terror. Despite Aro's overt politeness, I
didn't believe I really had a choice. I was horrified at the thought of allowing him
to touch me, and yet also perversely intrigued by the chance to feel his strange
skin.
Edward nodded in encouragement—whether because he was sure Aro would not
hurt me, or because there was no choice, I couldn't tell.
I turned back to Aro and raised my hand slowly in front of me. It was trembling.
He glided closer, and I believe he meant his expression to be reassuring. But his
papery features were too strange, too alien and frightening, to reassure. The look
on his face was more confident than his words had been.
Aro reached out, as if to shake my hand, and pressed his insubstantial-looking
skin against mine. It was hard, but felt brittle—shale rather than granite—and
even colder than I expected.
His filmy eyes smiled down at mine, and it was impossible to look away. They
were mesmerizing in an odd, unpleasant way.
Aro's face altered as I watched. The confidence wavered and became first doubt,
then incredulity before he calmed it into a friendly mask.
"So very interesting," he said as he released my hand and drifted back.
My eyes flickered to Edward, and, though his face was composed, I thought he
seemed a little smug.
Aro continued to drift wnh a thoughtful expression. He was quiet for a moment,
his eyes flickering between the three of us. Then, abruptly, he shook his head.
"A first," he said to himself "I wonder if she is immune to our other talents…
Jane, dear?"
"No!" Edward snarled the word. Alice grabbed his arm with a restraining hand.
He shook her off.
Little Jane smiled up happily at Aro. "Yes, Master?"
Edward was truly snarling now, the sound ripping and tearing from him, glaring
at Aro with baleful eyes. The room had gone still, everyone watching him with
amazed disbelief, as if he were committing some embarrassing social faux pas. I
saw Felix grin hopefully and move a step forward. Aro glanced at him once, and
he froze in place, his grin turning to a sulky expression.
Then he spoke to Jane. "I was wondering, my dear one, if Bella is immune to
you."
I could barely hear Aro over Edward's furious growls. He let go of me, moving to
hide me from their view. Caius ghosted in our direction, with his entourage, to
watch.
Jane turned toward us with a beatific smile.
"Don't!" Alice cried as Edward launched himself at the little girl.
Before I could react, before anyone could jump between them, before Aro's
bodyguards could tense, Edward was on the ground.
No one had touched him, but he was on the stone floor writhing in obvious
agony, while I stared in horror.
Jane was smiling only at him now, and it all clicked together. What Alice had
said about formidable gifts, why everyone treated Jane with such deference, and
why Edward had thrown himself in her path before she could do that to me.
"Stop!" I shrieked, my voice echoing in the silence, jumping forward to put
myself between them. But Alice threw her arms around me in an unbreakable
grasp and ignored my struggles. No sound escaped Edward's lips as he cringed
against the stones. It felt like my head would explode from the pain of watching
this.
"Jane," Aro recalled her in a tranquil voice. She looked up quickly, still smiling
with pleasure, her eyes questioning. As soon as Jane looked away, Edward was
still.
Aro inclined his head toward me.
Jane turned her smile in my direction.
I didn't even meet her gaze. I watched Edward from the prison of Alice's arms,
still struggling pointlessly.
"He's fine," Alice whispered in a tight voice. As she spoke, he sat up, and then
sprang lightly to his feet. His eyes met mine, and they were horror-struck. At first
I thought the horror was for what he had just suffered. But then he looked quickly
at Jane, and back to me—and his face relaxed into relief.
I looked at Jane, too, and she no longer smiled. She glared at me, her jaw
clenched with the intensity of her focus. I shrank back, waiting for the pain.
Nothing happened.
Edward was by my side again. He touched Alice's arm, and she surrendered me
to him.
Aro started to laugh. "Ha, ha. ha," he chuckled. "This is wonderful!"
Jane hissed in frustration, leaning forward like she was preparing to spring.
"Don't be put out, dear one," Aro said in a comforting tone, placing a powderlight
hand on her shoulder. "She confounds us all."
Jane's upper lip curled back ever her teeth as she continued to glare at me.
"Ha, ha, ha," Aro chortled again. "You're very brave, Edward, to endure in
silence. I asked Jane to do that to me once—just out of curiosity." He shook his
head in admiration.
Edward glared, disgusted.
"So what do we do with you now?" Aro sighed.
Edward and Alice stiffened. This was the part they'd been waiting for. I began to
tremble.
"I don't suppose there's any chance that you've changed your mind?" Aro asked
Edward hopefully. "Your talent would be an excellent addition to our little
company."
Edward hesitated. From the corner of my eye, I saw both Felix and Jane grimace.
Edward seemed to weigh each word before he spoke it. "I'd… rather… not."
"Alice?" Aro asked, still hopeful. "Would you perhaps be interested in joining
with us?"
"No, thank you," Alice said.
"And you, Bella?" Aro raised his eyebrows.
Edward hissed, low in my ears. I stared at Aro blankly. Was he joking? Or was he
really asking me if I wanted to stay for dinner?
It was the white-haired Caius who broke the silence.
"What?" he demanded of Aro; his voice, though no more than a whisper, was flat.
"Caius, surely you see the potential," Aro chided him affectionately. "I haven't
seen a prospective talent so promising since we found Jane and Alec. Can you
imagine the possibilities when she is one of us?"
Caius looked away with a caustic expression. Jane's eyes sparked with
indignation at the comparison.
Edward fumed beside me. I could hear a rumble in his chest, building toward a
growl. I couldn't let his temper get him hurt.
"No, thank you," I spoke up in barely more than a whisper, my voice breaking in
fright.
Aro sighed. "That's unfortunate. Such a waste."
Edward hissed. "Join or die, is that it? I suspected as much when we were
brought to this room. So much for your laws."
The tone of his voice surprised me. He sounded irate, but there was something
deliberate about his delivery—as if he'd chosen his words with great care.
"Of course not." Aro blinked, astonished. "We were already convened here,
Edward, awaiting Heidi's return. Not for you."
"Aro," Caius hissed. "The law claims them."
Edward glared at Caius. "How so?" he demanded. He must have known what
Caius was thinking, but he seemed determined to make him speak it aloud.
Caius pointed a skeletal finger at me. "She knows too much. You have exposed
our secrets." His voice was papery thin, just like his skin.
"There are a few humans in on your charade here, as well," Edward reminded
him, and I thought of the pretty receptionist below.
Caius's face twisted into a new expression. Was it supposed to be a smiled.
"Yes," he agreed. "But when they are no longer useful to us, they will serve to
sustain us. That is not your plan for this one. If she betrays our secrets, are you
prepared to destroy her? I think not," he scoffed.
"I wouldn't—," I began, still whispering. Caius silenced me with an icy look.
"Nor do you intend to make her one of us," Caius continued. "Therefore, she is a
vulnerability. Though it is true, for this, only her life is forfeit. You may leave if
you wish."
Edward bared his teeth.
"That's what I thought," Caius said, with something akin to pleasure. Felix leaned
forward, eager.
"Unless…" Aro interrupted. He looked unhappy with the way the conversation
had gone. "Unless you do intend to give her immortality?"
Edward pursed his lips, hesitating for a moment before he answered. "And if I
do?"
Aro smiled, happy again. "Why, then you would be free to go home and give my
regards to my friend Carlisle." His expression turned more hesitant. "But I'm
afraid you would have to mean it."
Aro raised his hand in front of him.
Caius, who had begun to scowl furiously, relaxed.
Edward's lips tightened into a fierce line. He stared into my eyes, and I stared
back.
"Mean it," I whispered. "Please."
Was it really such a loathsome idea? Would he rather die than change me? I felt
like I'd been kicked in the stomach.
Edward stared down at me with a tortured expression.
And then Alice stepped away from us, forward toward Aro. We turned to watch
her. Her hand was raised like his.
She didn't say anything, and Aro waved off his anxious guard as they moved to
block her approach. Aro met her halfway, and took her hand with an eager,
acquisitive glint in his eyes.
He bent his head over their touching hands, his eyes closing as he concentrated.
Alice was motionless, her face blank. I heard Edward's teeth snap together.
No one moved. Aro seemed frozen over Alice's hand. The seconds passed and I
grew more and more stressed, wondering how much time would pass before it
was too much time. Before it meant something was wrong—more wrong than it
already was.
Another agonizing moment passed, and then Aro's voice broke the silence.
"Ha, ha, ha," he laughed, his head still bent forward. He looked up slowly, his
eyes bright with excitement. "That was fascinating!"
Alice smiled dryly. "I'm glad you enjoyed it."
"To see the things you've seen—especially the ones that haven't happened yet!"
He shook his head in wonder.
"But that will," she reminded him, voice calm.
"Yes, yes, it's quite determined. Certainly there's no problem."
Caius looked bitterly disappointed—a feeling he seemed to share with Felix and
Jane.
"Aro," Caius complained.
"Dear Caius," Aro smiled. "Do not fret. Think of the possibilities! They do not
join us today, but we can always hope for the future. Imagine the joy young Alice
alone would bring to our little household… Besides, I'm so terribly curious to see
how Bella turns out!"
Aro seemed convinced. Did he not realize how subjective Alice's visions were.'
That she could make up her mind to transform me today, and then change it
tomorrow? A million tiny decisions, her decisions and so many others', too—
Edward's—could alter her path, and with that, the future.
And would it really matter that Alice was willing, would it make any difference if
I did become a vampire, when the idea was so repulsive to Edward? If death was,
to him, a better alternative than having me around forever, an immortal
annoyance? Terrified as I was, I felt myself sinking down into depression,
drowning in it…
"Then we are free to go now?" Edward asked in an even voice.
"Yes, yes," Aro said pleasantly. "But please visit again. It's been absolutely
enthralling!"
"And we will visit you as well," Caius promised, his eyes suddenly half-closed
like the heavy-lidded gaze of a lizard. "To be sure that you follow through on
your side. Were I you, I would not delay too long. We do not offer second
chances."
Edward's jaw clenched tight, but he nodded once.
Caius smirked and drifted back to where Marcus still sat, unmoving and
uninterested.
Felix groaned.
"Ah, Felix." Aro smiled, amused. "Heidi will be here at any moment. Patience."
"Hmm." Edward's voice had a new edge to it. "In that case, perhaps we'd better
leave sooner rather than later."
"Yes," Aro agreed. "That's a good idea. Accidents do happen. Please wait below
until after dark, though, if you don't mind."
"Of course," Edward agreed, while I cringed at the thought of waiting out the day
before we could escape.
"And here," Aro added, motioning to Felix with one finger. Felix came forward at
once, and Aro unfastened the gray cloak the huge vampire wore, pulling from his
shoulders. He tossed it to Edward. "Take this. You're a little conspicuous."
Edward put the long cloak on, leaving the hood down.
Aro sighed. "It suits you."
Edward chuckled, but broke off suddenly, glancing over his shoulder. "Thank
you, Aro. We'll wait below."
"Goodbye, young friends," Aro said, his eyes bright as he stared in the same
direction.
"Let's go," Edward said, urgent now.
Demetri gestured that we should follow, and then set off the way we'd come in,
the only exit by the look of things.
Edward pulled me swiftly along beside him. Alice was close by my other side,
her face hard.
"Not fast enough," she muttered.
I stared up at her, frightened, but she only seemed chagrined. It was then that I
first heard the babble of voices—loud, rough voices—coming from the
antechamber.
"Well this is unusual," a man's coarse voice boomed.
"So medieval," an unpleasantly shrill, female voice gushed back.
A large crowd was coming through the little door, filling the smaller stone
chamber. Demetri motioned for us to make room. We pressed back against the
cold wall to let them pass.
The couple in front, Americans from the sound of them, glanced around
themselves with appraising eyes.
"Welcome, guests! Welcome to Volterra!" I could hear Aro sing from the big
turret room.
The rest of them, maybe forty or more, filed in after the couple. Some studied the
setting like tourists. A few even snapped pictures. Others looked confused, as if
the story that had led them to this room was not making sense anymore. I noticed
one small, dark woman in particular. Around her neck was a rosary, and she
gripped the cross tightly in one hand. She walked more slowly than the others,
touching someone now and then and asking a question in an unfamiliar language.
No one seemed to understand her, and her voice grew more panicked.
Edward pulled my face against his chest, but it was too late. I already understood.
As soon as the smallest break appeared, Edward pushed me quickly toward the
door. I could feel the horrified expression on my face, and the tears beginning to
pool in my eyes.
The ornate golden hallway was quiet, empty except for one gorgeous, statuesque
woman. She stared at us curiously, me in particular.
"Welcome home, Heidi," Demetri greeted her from behind us.
Heidi smiled absently. She reminded me of Rosalie, though they looked nothing
alike—it was just that her beauty, too, was exceptional, unforgettable. I couldn't
seem to look away.
She was dressed to emphasize that beauty. Her amazingly long legs, darkened
with tights, were exposed by the shortest of miniskirts. Her top was long-sleeved
and high-necked, but extremely close-fitting, and constructed of red vinyl. Her
long mahogany hair was lustrous, and her eyes were the strangest shade of violet
—a color that might result from blue-tinted contacts over red irises.
"Demetri," she responded in a silky voice, her eyes flickering between my face
and Edward's gray cloak.
"Nice fishing," Demetri complimented her, and I suddenly understood the
attention-grabbing outfit she wore… she was not only the fisherman, but also the
bait.
"Thanks." She flashed a stunning smile. "Aren't you coming?"
"In a minute. Save a few for me."
Heidi nodded and ducked through the door with one last curious look at me.
Edward set a pace that had me running to keep up. But we still couldn't get
through the ornate door at the end of the hallway before the screaming started.
22 FLIGHT
DEMETRI LEFT US IN THE CHEERFULLY OPULENT RECEPTION area,
where the woman Gianna was still at her post behind the polished counter.
Bright, harmless music tinkled from hidden speakers.
"Do not leave until dark," he warned us.
Edward nodded, and Demetri hurried away.
Gianna did not seem at all surprised by the exchange, though she did eye
Edward's borrowed cloak with shrewd speculation.
"Are you all right?" Edward asked under his breath, to low for the human woman
to hear. His voice was rough—if velvet can be rough—with anxiety. Still stressed
by our situation, I imagined.
"You'd better make her sit before she falls," Alice said. "She's going to pieces."
It was only then that I realize I was shaking, shaking hard, my entire frame
vibrating until my teeth chattered and the room around me seemed to wobble and
blur in my eyes. For one wild second, I wondered if this was how Jacob felt just
before exploding into a werewolf.
I heard a sound that didn't make sense, a strange, ripping counterpart to the
otherwise cheery background music. Distracted by the shaking, I couldn't tell
where it was coming from.
"Shh, Bella, shh," Edward said as he pulled me to the sofa farthest away from the
curious human at the desk.
"I think she's having hysterics. Maybe you should slap her," Alice suggested.
Edward threw a frantic glance at her.
Then I understood. Oh. The noise was me. The ripping sound was the sobs
coming from my chest. That's what was shaking me.
"It's all right, you're safe, it's all right," he chanted again and again. He pulled ne
onto his lap and tucked the thick wool cloak around me, protecting me from his
cold skin.
I knew it was stupid to react like this. Who knew how much time I had to look at
his race? He was saved, and I was saved, and he could leave me as soon as we
were free. To have my eyes so filled with tears that I could not see his features
clearly was wasteful—insanity.
But, behind my eyes where the tears could not wash the image away, I could still
see the panicked face of the tiny woman with the rosary.
"All those people," I sobbed.
"I know," he whispered.
"It's so horrible."
"Yes, it is. I wish you hadn't had to see that."
I rested my head against his cold chest, using the thick cloak to wipe my eyes. I
took a few deep breaths, trying to calm myself.
"Is there anything I can get you?" a voice asked politely. It was Gianna, leaning
over Edward's shoulder with a look that was both concerned and yet still
professional and detached at the same time. It didn't seem to bother her that her
face was inches from a hostile vampire. She was either totally oblivious, or very
good at her job.
"No," Edward answered coldly.
She nodded, smiled at me, and then disappeared.
I waited until she was out of hearing range. "Does she know what's going on
here?" I demanded, my voice low and hoarse. I was getting control of myself, my
breathing evening out.
"Yes. She knows everything," Edward told me.
"Does she know they're going to kill her someday?"
"She's knows it's a possibility," he said.
That surprised me.
Edward's face was hard to read. "She's hoping they'll decide to keep her."
I felt the blood leave my face. "She wants to be one of them?"
He nodded once, his eyes sharp on my face, watching my reaction.
I shuddered. "How can she want that?" I whispered, more to myself than really
looking for an answer. "How can she watch those people file through to that
hideous room and want to be a part of that?"
Edward didn't answer. His expression twisted in response to something I'd said.
As I stared at his too beautiful face, trying to understand the change, it suddenly
struck me that I was really here, in Edward's arms, however fleetingly, and that
we were not—at this exact moment—about to be killed.
"Oh, Edward," I cried, and I was sobbing again. It was such a stupid reaction. The
tears were too thick for me to see his face again, and that was inexcusable. I only
had until sunset for sure. Like a fairy tale again, with deadlines that ended the
magic.
"What's wrong?" he asked, still anxious, rubbing my back with gentle pats.
I wrapped my arms around his neck—what was the worst he could do? Just push
me away—and hugged myself closer to him. "Is it really sick for me to be happy
right now?" I asked. My voice broke twice.
He didn't push me away. He pulled me tight against his ice-hard chest, so tight it
was hard to breathe, even with my lungs securely intact. "I know exactly what
you mean," he whispered. "But we have lots of reasons to be happy. For one,
we're alive."
"Yes," I agreed. "That's a good one."
"And together," he breathed. His breath was so sweet it made my head swim.
I just nodded, sure that he did not place the same weight on that consideration as I
did.
"And, with any luck, we'll still be alive tomorrow."
"Hopefully," I said uneasily.
"The outlook is quite good," Alice assured me. She'd been so quiet, I'd almost
forgotten her presence. "I'll see Jasper in less than twenty-four hours," she added
in a satisfied tone.
Lucky Alice. She could trust her future.
I couldn't keep my eyes off of Edward's face for long. I stared at him, wishing
more than anything that the future would never happen. That this moment would
last forever, or, if it couldn't, that I would stop existing when it did.
Edward stared right back at me, his dark eyes soft, and it was easy to pretend that
he felt the same way. So that's what I did. I pretended, to make the moment
sweeter.
His fingertips traced the circles under my eyes. "You look so tired."
"And you look thirsty," I whispered back, studying the purple bruises under his
black irises.
He shrugged. "It's nothing."
"Are you sure? I could sit with Alice," I offered, unwilling; I'd rather he killed me
now than move one inch from where I was.
"Don't be ridiculous." He sighed; his sweet breath caressed my face. "I've never
been in better control of that side of my nature than right now."
I had a million questions for him. One of them bubbled to my lips now, but I held
my tongue. I didn't want to ruin the moment, as imperfect as it was, here in this
room that made me sick, under the eyes of the would-be monster.
Here in his arms, it was so easy to fantasize that he wanted me. I didn't want to
think about his motivations now—about whether he acted this way to keep me
calm while we were still in danger, or if he just felt guilty for where we were and
relieved that he wasn't responsible for my death. Maybe the time apart had been
enough that I didn't bore him for the moment. But it didn't matter. I was so much
happier pretending.
I lay quiet in his arms, re-memorizing his face, pretending…
He stared at my face like he was doing the same, while he and Alice discussed
how to get home. Their voices were so quick and low that I knew Gianna couldn't
understand. I missed half of it myself. It sounded like more theft would be
involved, though. I wondered idly if the yellow Porsche had made it back to its
owner yet.
"What was all that talk about singers?" Alice asked at one point.
"La tua cantante," Edward said. His voice made the words into music.
"Yes, that," Alice said, and I concentrated for a moment. I'd wondered about that,
too, at the time.
I felt Edward shrug around me. "They have a name for someone who smells the
way Bella does to me. They call her my singer—because her blood sings for me."
Alice laughed.
I was tired enough to sleep, but I fought against the weariness. I wasn't going to
miss a second of the time I had with him. Now and then, as he talked with Alice,
he would lean down suddenly and kiss me—his glass-smooth lips brushing
against my hair, my forehead, the tip of my nose. Each time it was like an electric
shock to my long dormant heart. The sound of its beating seemed to fill the entire
room.
It was heaven—right smack in the middle of hell.
I lost track of the time completely. So when Edward's arms tightened around me,
and both he and Alice looked to the back of the room with wary eyes, I panicked.
I cringed into Edward's chest as Alec—his eyes now a vivid ruby, but still
spotless in his light gray suit despite the afternoon meal—walked through the
double doors.
It was good news.
"You're free to leave now," Alec told us, his tone so warm you'd think we were
all lifelong friends. "We ask that you don't linger in the city."
Edward made no answering pretence; his voice was ice cold. "That won't be a
problem."