A/N: Hey everyone! This is my very first Fanfic, so I'd really appreciate it if all readers would review. I'm not sure if I should continue this. It was really just a story I couldn't get out of my head that I wrote down and played around with. So review and please let me know if you think I should continue this!

I've decided to name each chapter after a song title. This one's named after Gravity by Sara Bareilles.

Um, I think that's it so . . . happy reading!

- psychic-girl14

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My feet crunched through the snow as I trudged forward. I could feel it, but when I looked behind me no footprints marking my trial were left in the snow. I sighed. I knew I was walking through the foot of snow layering the ground beneath me, but I left no footprints in my wake.

I was untraceable. I had no scent to any other vampire that crossed my trail. Aro had described it to me once as a "blind spot" in his vision. I left no proof behind me that showed any indication that I had been somewhere. Dimitri wasn't able to use his power to track me either. I could make anyone near me untraceable too; their scent would disappear, and anything they did left no proof that they had been there. It was helpful for snooping around where I wasn't supposed to and sneaking off to places when I wanted no one to find me. It was almost as if I didn't exist, except for the fact that I physically did.

Aro had changed me in 1953. I was seventeen. World War II had ended only a few years earlier. My mother had sent me and my younger brother out for groceries. He was nine.

It was late in the afternoon, around four. We were walking home after picking up the ingredients Mama would need for dinner. Aiden swung our entwined hands while rambling on about his day at school. I laughed when he told me about a trick he and his friend had played on their teacher.

We were just in the wrong place at the wrong time.

We were still near the center out the town; it was bustling with people. Suddenly, a woman cried out.

"No!"

A man, around ten years older than I was, with haunted eyes had come stumbling out of a bar. He was drunk. Someone had bumped into him as he tried to navigate the busy street in a drunken fashion. He got angry.

It surprised me just how quickly he was able to draw his gun. He had fired thirteen shots before anyone could stop him. I had pushed Aiden away from him. I was just too slow to save myself.

I was on the ground in an instant. The bullet had lodged itself firmly in my stomach. I lay on the ground, bleeding as people ran every which way around me.

I heard Aiden calling my name. "Lacey!"

I had no energy to answer. I was fading so fast.

"Lacey!"

Finally, he spotted me. He ran, dropping to his knees next to me. Tears rolled down my face.

He began to cry too as he tried to reassure me. "Lace. No. Don't cry. It's okay. Everything's going to be alright," He whispered to me. He gently touched the blood that soaked my blue dress. My blood covered his hands. "I'll go get help! I'll go get Mama! She'll know what to do." He began to rise.

My hand grabbed his shirt sleeve. I didn't want to be left alone.

"Don't . . . leave . . . me."

He sank back down to his knees next to me.

"Never, Lace, never," He whispered to me before raising his voice. "Help! Help! Somebody! Help!" He called desperately. People were still frantic, running around the market, tending to others who were injured. The seamstress from the local store came running outside. She knew our family well.

"Aiden," She called to him, running over to us. He sighed in relief beside me.

"Ms. Allen, Ms. Allen!"

She reached us then, gasping when she saw me. "Oh god."

"You have to help her!" He cried viciously, the sobs he had been controlling finally escaping him.

I raised my arm slightly, inviting him into my arms. He buried his face into my shoulder, his tears soaking my sleeve.

"You can't die, Lacey. You can't!" He sobbed into my shoulder.

"Shh . . . ." I tried to calm him. "You . . . you need to . . . promise to do something . . . for me."

He pulled away from my shoulder. "No, whatever you want me to promise to do I won't have to. You're going to live to do it yourself."

I half-smiled up at him. "Aiden . . . promise me. Promise me . . . you won't forget."

"Never, Lacey. Never, for as long as I live," he grasped my larger hand in his two smaller ones.

"I . . . love you," I told him. I felt myself slipping under the black water. My vision became blurry. My fingers uncurled from around his. The last thing I heard before going under was my younger brother sobbing my name.

"Lacey. . . . Lacey . . . . Come back, Lacey! I love you too! I love you too!"

I had endured what felt like years of pain after falling under the black water. I later found out that this was the change. After I passed out, my heart was beating so feebly, I was pronounced dead. I was taken to the morgue at the local hospital. Aro had found me there, impossibly still alive.

He told me he had been watching me since birth. He had known I would be special. He was able to sneak my body out, and bring it back to Italy. I awoke three days later to the sight of his smiling face, not realizing then just what Aro's smile meant.

The first few weeks of life I held on tightly to my human memories, not wanting to forget. I memorized every detail that I could remember. I held onto my family most dearly: Aiden; his smile, his bright blue eyes, the same color as mine, and his carefree view of the world. Mama's beautiful blonde hair that Aiden had inherited, I had gotten my father's deep brown. How she played with my hair, telling me how silky it was. She always told me I was beautiful. Papa's deep brown eyes that seemed to go on forever and his love of watches; he was a watchmaker. He loved to dance. Even at seventeen, Papa loved to dance with me standing on his toes like I was a little girl. We would whirl around the house until Mama told us to stop.

I remembered the dog I had gotten for my fifteenth birthday. Max followed me around everywhere. He had even followed me to school one day when he was a puppy. I had gotten detention that day for having my dog disrupt class. But that didn't bother me; Max was too cute to get angry at.

Family trips to the beach and picnics next to the lake were harder to remember. They all blurred into one mess. But I could remember flashes, which was better than most vampires. Finally, realizing that mourning my loss wouldn't give me my human life back, I turned to Aro for guidance in the new world I was a part of.

He trained me, taught me what I was, and adopted me into his "family". I felt proud to be as special as to replace Jane, as Dimitri later told me, as Aro's favorite. Aro trained me to use my power, control it, and pass it off to others. He was, at the time, a father to me. I hadn't yet realized what it really mean to be in the Volturi.

I never had liked drinking from humans to survive. Whenever I hunted, I imagined Aiden, or Mama or Papa in front of me. I imagined what my family went through with my loss. What this person's family would go through with their loss. I hunted as quickly as possible every time; I was always the first person done. Everyone enjoyed the hunt, got a thrill from it. I hated it with every fiber of my being. I only dealt with the pain because I knew of no other way to hunt. I had asked Aro once. He told me there was only one way. But I knew there was another way. I felt it.

Over the years, Aro's true colors came out. That smile I had reveled in when I was younger now told me that something malicious and torturous was forming in his mind. After training me, I was used to infiltrate other vampire coven's homes, who had allegedly broken the law. I was told to kill everyone that crossed my path. I listened for awhile, but it soon became harder to do so. After I had killed each coven, I would see their blood on my hands. It had gotten to the point where I would constantly wear gloves just so as not to see the imaginary blood.

Aro questioned me on my sudden taking to gloves one afternoon. I could not lie to him when he held out his palm. I placed mine grimly in his and stood waiting for his reaction.

"I see." He did not sound pleased. "Maybe you should take a break from missions."

I did not leave the castle for almost a year after that.

That's why I was here, trudging through a foot of snow somewhere near St. Petersburg in Russia.

My escape from the castle was subtle and quiet. I had gone to my room as I had every single day for almost a year at exactly seven to take a shower and clean up. I got dressed to leave. I kept my cloak on in case I was spotted. I wanted to run right then; I was getting anxious. But I knew I must wait until sun down - exposing myself would just get me killed.

I had jumped out the window around two in the morning, my feet absorbing most of the shock, making a soft thump only a vampire could have heard. I was out of the city, running in moments. I ran until I hit Russia. It only took a few hours.

I was bundled up against the cold, though it had no effect on me. It would look weird to anyone who spotted me. I needed to keep as most skin as possible covered up if I wanted to travel during the day anyway.

My jeans were tucked tightly into my boots, a simple long sleeve tee for a top. I wore a sweater over that and then the cloak that all of the Volturi were required to wear. I was in no way still aligned with them, but the cloak was large and covered must of my body. My hair was left down. I wrapped a scarf around my neck and face leaving only my eyes and the skin surrounding them uncovered.

I walked now, taking in the smells and sight of nature. It was nice being on my own, travelling and being in nature. The trees surrounding me were covered in silver, the sky still pouring out those beautiful white flakes. The forest was silent as I walked through it, the only sound being my boots crunching though the snow.

Crack.

I froze. Another vampire was in the immediate area. My muscles tensed to fight. I breathed in deeply, taking in their scent. It was different than what I expected; it was pure, clean.

I traced the scent back a few yards into the forest. I couldn't see them yet, but I was almost sure they could see me. My calculations only took half a second. They might not have noticed my hesitation. I stayed calm, my years of training with the Volturi kicking in.

I began to trudge through the snow again, taking small steps toward the forest, acting as if I heard nothing.

Leaves crunched. The scent shifted slightly to the right. They were getting anxious. I had to act quickly.

I took off like a bullet straight into the trees. They didn't see it coming. I was on top of them in a second, their arms pinned beneath me. I smirked down at him.

He was my age, maybe older. He was built sinewy, but he probably could've overpowered me if I hadn't caught him by surprise. His long, auburn hair fell into his eyes. I looked down at him, expecting a red glare, but received a golden one. I was shocked just enough that my grip loosened and he rolled us over; him now straddling me. I was shocked, unmoving below him as I stared up at his eyes. They were the single most beautiful things I had ever seen in my existence.

I shook the thought from my head and began struggling to get free. He wouldn't budge.

I threw my entire body weight against his hold. I was getting angry now.

"Do you know who I am?" I snarled up at him.

He was calm as he answered me. "You're with the Volturi."

His voice was soft as he answered me, despite our predicament. It was smooth, velvety. I could have listened to it for hours. My feelings confused me. What I was feeling was totally and completely irrational.

"That's right," I growled, ignoring my feelings. "And it'd be in your best interest to Get. Off. Me. Now!" I punctuated each word a tug against his hold.

"I don't think you're really in the position to be giving orders," he smirked down at me, holding back laughter. He seemed unaffected by my threat. I growled at him, baring my teeth. He paused for a moment.

"Now," he began. "I'm going to let you up, and you're going to stand up and calmly explain to me why someone in the Volturi would be here in Russia. Okay?"

I didn't hesitate. "No. I don't have to explain myself to anyone. Especially not you."

"Okay then," he shrugged after a moment. "We'll just sit here like this until you decide to be nice," he leaned back, still pinning my arms down, and shifted into a more comfortable position on top of me.

I fruitlessly struggled against his hold for a few more moments before giving up and silently fuming beneath him.

We sat like that for a few minutes, him smirking down at me, me glaring up at him.

"Fine," I spat up at him.

His smirk grew more pronounced as he got up off of me, dusted himself off and held a hand down to help me up. I glared at it before pushing myself up off the ground.

I crossed my arms stubbornly across my chest, adjusting my scarf around my neck, and narrowed my eyes at him. He towered over my five-foot-five stature by almost a foot. I took a few steps back so that I didn't have to tilt my head to look at his face. He chuckled and smiled down at me. I took the moment to observe his appearance.

His hair fell in messy disarray just below his ears; I noticed that it fell into his eyes a little, obscuring from my view those wonderfully golden orbs that had first surprised me. It looked soft; I ached to touch it, to twirl my fingers through it. His teeth were perfectly straight; he didn't seem embarrassed to bare his slightly pointed incisors. His thin, pink lips smiled down at me. I thought about what it would feel like to have his lips moving with mine, on my cheeks, my nose, my neck . . . .

He was built thin; Sinewy, I repeated to myself. However, he didn't lack muscles. They stretched, pulling taut as he shoved his hands into his jeans pockets. I raked my eyes over his arms, taking in those muscles, imagining just how it would feel to have them wrapped around me. His jeans were rolled up over loosely tied hiking boots. A grey buttoned overcoat covered his upper body; it fell about mid-thigh. He was beautiful; quite easily the most gorgeous boy I had ever seen.

"What do you want to know?" I forced myself to say, my voice shaking a little.

"What's your name?"

It was a simple question, but I hesitated, unsure of giving this stranger my name. My heart sang, Yes; my mind told me, No.

"You do have one, don't you?" He acted concerned, but I knew he meant to tease me.

I rolled my eyes in amusement.

"Lacey," I said curtly.

"And your last name?" He prompted me on.

"I don't know it." I wasn't sure why I felt the way I did; why I felt the need to tell him everything about myself. Why I wanted him to know everything about me.

"You . . . don't have one?" He asked slowly.

"Well, I'm sure I do," I scoffed at him. "I just don't remember it."

He seemed to not be paying attention as I asked him my question.

"And you?" I pulled him out of thought.

"Me?"

"Your name?" I smiled just the tiniest bit. His brows had knitted together in confusion, a few creases forming on his forehead. I had an irrational urge to kiss them away.

"Zak Horowitz." He smiled sheepishly at me.

Zak. It suited him well.

Familiarities over, I turned to leave. I really didn't want to leave; the thought actually tugged at my heart. It yelled at me, and where do you think you're going? But I was on the run. I didn't really have time for this.

I only got a few steps before he stopped me.

"Hey!"

My heart rejoiced as I heard his voice. It sounded almost desperate, pleading with me to stay.

I turned to face him again. He seemed to struggle for something to say.

"You never answered my first question," he said quickly. "Why is someone like you, obviously a very powerful member of the Volturi, out here in Russia?"

"I ran away." I waited for his reaction.

"You . . . ran away?" He began to laugh.

I huffed and spun around again before beginning to stomp away. I could have easily taken off into the forest. He would've had no way to follow me. But I didn't want to leave him. Something held me there.

"Oh, come on, Lacey!" He called after me, jogging until he reached my side, matching my stride easily. My heart sung when he said my name. It could have just been me, but his voice seemed to soften as he said my name. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to laugh. It's just . . . you don't simply run away from the Volturi."

"Well, I did," I told him.

"How haven't they caught you yet?" He seemed flabbergasted.

"I . . . ." I hesitated for a second, and looked up at Zak's face, his beautiful, golden eyes lit up, listening intently to every word I said. I couldn't help but tell him the truth. "I have a gift."

His wide-eyed gaze prompted me on.

"I'm untraceable. It's been described to me as a "blind spot" in someone's vision. I have no scent. I leave no proof behind me that I was ever in a place, no proof that I ever existed. For example," I stopped walking and gestured behind me. Only one set of footprints led to where we stood. Zak blanched.

I smiled at his surprise and began walking again. He stood still for a moment before lurching to catch up with me.

"I can transfer my gift to others as well. It's quite helpful when snooping around," I told him.

He looked confused when I glanced up at him again to gauge his reaction.

"You have a scent." His eyebrows pulled together as he spoke, his nostrils flaring as he breathed in deeply, leaning towards me. I breathed in deeply also as he leaned closer.

His scent overpowered me. He had a very earthy smell. If I had to name it as one thing I would have said burning wood.

"It's very sweet. Almost like candy." I pulled me from my own musings. I stared at him, my mouth agape.

"It's kind of like cocoa beans actually." He added as an afterthought.

"Really?" My eyes widened in surprise.

"Yes," He was surprised by my surprise, "Haven't you ever been told that before?"

I shook my head. "No. Everyone else that I've ever spoken to has said that my scent is like a blind spot in their vision. They can't smell anything coming from me."

"That's too bad," he pondered. "You smell nice."

I flushed, blood from my recent feeding pooling in my cheeks.

I turned the attention from myself with a question that had bothered me since we had met. "Why are your eyes gold?"

He smiled down at me, those eyes glowing with pride. "I don't follow your diet."

I scrunched my nose in confusion.

"I'm a vegetarian, you could call it. I feed only from animals." He clarified, noticing my confusion.

Hope swelled in my chest. There was another way! Aro had so obviously lied to me. I was suddenly disgusted by my own bright red, murderous eyes.

"What? It's not that bad! Really! And you get used it. Sure, it's tough at first, but the blood gets easier to resist." He must have seen the disgust on my face and misinterpreted it.

"That's one of the reasons I left," I sighed staring down at my feet.

"What? Being around all the humans?" He seemed genuinely concerned.

"No. I don't want to feed from humans anymore. I hate killing. I see blood on my hands all the time," I told him, glancing up to gauge his reaction. "They remind me of the loss my family went through when I died. I hate doing that to people. I don't like being a monster."

"Hey!" He seemed angry that I was upset with myself. "Don't be like that! I didn't know any better either! None of us know any better!"

When I didn't answer, he stopped walking and grabbed my shoulders, forcing me to stop too. I continued to stare at my boots.

He put his right hand under my chin. An electric shock ran through my body when he touched me. His thumb gently rubbed circles on my cheek. Butterflies danced in my stomach. My heart flew. It felt so right to have his skin on mine.

He gently pulled my chin up so as to meet my gaze with his. I didn't fight him. His golden gaze was calming; it seemed to be able to penetrate my soul.

"Do not get angry at yourself," He told me fiercely. "None of us are martyrs. But we can change, and we can grow into better people. We've all killed before. I've killed before. It's our hatred for killing that sets us apart from the rest of them. We," The way he said we made my breathe catch, "can be different. I'll teach you. You'll never kill another human as long as I'm with you."

By the end of his speech, our faces were only a few inches apart. He hesitated for a second before leaning towards me slowly, to gauge my reaction. My eyes fluttered closed when our lips were only three inches apart.

Suddenly I remembered where we were, who I was and what I was doing. My heart threw a fit. I opened my eyes; his were closed now that our lips were only a few centimeters apart, his hand holding my chin loosely in place.

I pulled back gently, turning my face away from him and closing my eyes. I didn't want to see the hurt that would be in those beautiful topaz eyes. My heart wrenched and tore itself to shreds at the thought of hurting him. Why did it hurt me so much, just imagining hurting him? I had only just met Zak, and I liked him too much already.

His hand dropped from my chin. I felt loss as his skin left mine.

"I'm sorry." My voice was barely audible, even to my own ears. I apologized for causing him the pain I knew I had. Why did my mind have to be so rational?

I opened my eyes again, searching for him. He stood a few steps away from me.

His eyes were clouded over in pain, as I'm sure mine were. Hesitantly, he stretched his hand out towards me. He didn't need to say anything for me to know what he was asking. His eyes told me that he felt the same way for me as I felt for him. I couldn't leave him. However irrational my mind told me this was, my heart overpowered it. It seized up at the thought of even leaving him for a few seconds.

I placed my hand gently in his, his larger hand engulfing my small one. His warm fingers curled around mine, and in that moment I knew I wasn't alone.