Dance in the Light
Full Summary: Shortly after being abandoned in Volterra, Nila is taken in by a beautiful man, the one whose family devoured her parents' hours before. But Nila Archer proves a bigger threat than asking questions. Her blood is immune to the venom. In fact, it is an antidote that can change Vampires back into humans. When an ancient enemy of all Covens reappears an all out war ensues…
And I know I'm gonna steal her life
She doesn't even know what's wrong
And I know I'm gonna make her die
Take her where her soul belongs
Beck, Girl
Chapter One: It All Began in Innocent Jest
Volterra, Italy
In two short hours my parents were going to die.
I just didn't know it yet.
I was only aware of it being a long, painful morning. Never mind the sweltering heat, lack of air conditioning in the bus, or uninvolved tour guide who looked as thrilled about his job as the maid of a notorious bed wetter. Mum and dad bickered the entire trip over and I could feel my head swell, as if someone was dumping cement inside.
"Everyone would know if the goddamn Vampires existed," My dad argued, his brazen, hot fire Yankee attitude boiling over. "I mean think. They drink human blood. Human. Blood. That would get pretty suspicious after a while, eh? All those humans? Just disappearin outta thin air?"
My mom, the delicate English woman from a town of five hundred people, sighed. "All I'm saying dear is that from what I've read vampires are very clever and could have been around for thousands of years. What do you think, Nila?"
I scooted deeper into the corner of my seat. "I think this whole conversation is bullocks."
"There!" Dad boomed. "She agrees with me."
Mum and I roll our eyes. At that very moment I could care less if everyone in Italy was a vampire. All I wanted were the two B's and an A: Bath, Bed, and Air Conditioning.
Luckily, the weather swiftly changed along the Italian countryside, and as we approached Volturra, billowing clouds began to gather.
"Looks like we might be experiencing some bad weather soon," the bus driver pointed out. Why thank you, Einstein. "The hotel is located on the southern side of the city. We'll stop there and for all those who want to go to on with the tour may do so. Otherwise, feel free to stay in the hotel."
Thank God, I thought as the bus came to halt outside the hotel. Knowing my parents would want to go through a long, drawn out tour of ancient ruins, I would have the luxury of some peace and quiet inside our suit.
As soon as the breaks hit I bolted off the bus and almost knocked over an old woman struggling with bags. "Sorry," I apologized and picked up her purse. Before she could thank me I was already outside.
"Nila, where are you going?" My mom chided. "Your father and I are going on the tour!"
I turned around abruptly. "Mum, it's gonna start pouring in a second! And I'm about to pass out." I was all too aware of the whine in my voice. I hated that whine. It reminded me of how juvenile I could be.
"Well we're going on," my dad said gruffly. He was like me: leave no room to argue. "If you wanna wait for us in the hotel, you can wait. But do not leave the hotel. Understand?"
I fought the urge to roll my eyes. "Yes dad," I sighed, handing my luggage off to be taken.
As they walked off I heard my mother say, "It's amazing how she can make yes dad sound like 'fuck you.' "
In a matter of minutes it would start raining, but this did not stop Aro from strolling his city. Most of the residence had taken shelter, shops closed, doors bolted. Feeble beings, he thought smugly. When you live millennia you've seen thousands of storms. Aro did not hide from their power. He relished it.
He turned a corner, and stopped.
Two men, clad in dark jeans and hoodies flanked a young girl. She was terrified, Aro knew, by her trembling body, and her eyes darted every now and again to the end of the street. What a terribly boorish conundrum, he thought. Without much else to do he stayed to watch it play out.
In broken english the taller one said, "Beautiful face. Beautiful girl. What you doing alone like this?"
"I'm with my parents," she replied evenly. "They're waiting for me in the hotel."
A lie. Aro knew it and so did the two instigators. One of them grabbed her from under her arm. "Let's get you somewhere dry." She wrenched it back.
"Come with us," the other cooed. "Come."
Aro anticipated what would happen next. The struggle. A scream, perhaps, unheard, or reaching a pair of reluctant ears. It always fascinated him…the inevitable end. However, it did not come. The girl continued to lie. "I'll blow your dick to bits."
Both men laughed. "I like her! She's fierce. How Americans say? A freak."
"You don't believe me, do you?"
Suddenly, they were silenced.
Interesting, Aro mused. She's playing off their own fear. The vampire found himself making a personal deal. If she pulled it off he would help her escape. If not, he would feed off her remains. The Volturi leader didn't particularly like leftovers, but it would do. With wrapped attention, he continued observing the girl in her plight.
She took a few steps back and reached deep inside her jacket. "Don't come any closer."
"She might actually have a gun," the taller one whispered in Italian. "Americans these days. Even women. You know how they are."
His counterpart frowned. "Are you stupid? She has no gun. She's bluffing!"
They continued to hesitate. Aro did not know what he wanted more: for the girl to win and go freely, or to witness her obvious rouse coming to a bloody demise. Perhaps she does have a gun. That would be a treat!
Finally, the taller one receded cursing in Italian. The other rolled his eyes.
"I suppose I have you to myself…"
He took a step closer. Swiftly, the girl pulled her hand out of the jacket. The man reacted, briefly. But when he saw her hand was empty he grabbed her, and pinned her to the ground.
World famous director dies violently after capturing the most brilliant scene in movie history.
That's how it was supposed to be. A noble, just, and talked about death. Now, here I was, the fruits of my life barely ripe, and I was going to be taken as a nameless victim of some Italian manwhore. For a second I was angry with my parents. They were gone for hours, and my dad had taken the credit card. Knowing he would pop an artery if I started a tab on our room, I went to the restaurant's hotel to eat, only to find I didn't have enough money to buy a damn salad. Two more hours passed and I couldn't handle the hunger anymore. I went out.
Of course, I would practically be abducted.
Anger gave way to fear. What if he didn't kill me? What if he kept me alive, locked somewhere, for years and years? I imagined my parents searching for days, weeks…years. Death would be a mercy.
"So cold," he said soothingly. "I'll make you warm."
"And how do you plan on that, hmmm?"
The Italian's head shot up. From my handicapped line of vision I saw a pair of well polished, designer shoes. Armani. Of course I can think of a brand of shoe when in mortal danger but not a better exit strategy!
"Piss off!" The Italian yelled.
The man laughed. "An innocent question I assure you. Although, you will be wishing the ignorance of your partner if you plan executing how I think you might 'keep her warm.'" His tone was smug, playful, and childish. Like a professor picking on the class moron. What is the capital of Georgia?
"If you don't leave she'll be dead," my captor warned. Topeka, the class idiot replies. "I'll kill her with my bare hands!" Good, excellent. At least he'll kill me and I won't be an underground sex slave. Marvelous!
"Mmm. Now you've threatened her life. You know, you could have told me you were taking her to a nice café, or safety from this storm. I would have walked off. But since you've obviously have worst intentions…I'll have to intervene." The last remark sent shivers down my spine. His tone dropped from teasing to deadly. Wrong. Atlanta.
Suddenly, the weight of the Italian was off my body. I stood up, stumbling to the wall.
I've seen enough horror movies to know I should run. Time and time again I sat in a theater chair or sofa acidly thinking, Run you idiot! Don't just stand there! For the love of Christ! Alas, I found myself frozen, morbid curiosity and defecation of good sense paralyzing my body. My savior gripped the throat of the criminal. He lifted him off his feet. I could have sworn in the darkness I saw his eyes change.
"Never come back to this city."
I stared dumfounded as this pale, red-eyed man hurtled the miscreant's body against the brick wall, causing it to break. The wall, that is, not the miscreant, although I'm certain a few bones were shattered and splintered. He crumpled into a tangled mess on the ground. Unconscious or dead it was impossible to tell. I turned toward my rescuer. He seemed almost amused which did not exactly give me a sense of ease.
"Thank you," I mumbled numbly.
The man walked over to me. "Are you alright?"
Had I suddenly not been able to breath I would have answered. Instead, I started trembling. My body felt cold. He seemed to notice my sudden shut down.
"Come," he said, "it's about to start pouring."
I shook my head violently. Again, my pale -faced vigilante gave a coy smirk. "Unlike your harasser, I'm not going to give you an option."
Without warning he picked me up bridal style, just as the rain was beginning to fall. I had no strength to protest. However, there was one thing I had to know. "Your name."
"Aro," he replied. "Volturi."