LOYALTY
"Hello," a young girl started, lifting her eyes from her paperwork. She had dark hair, meticulously cut at shoulder length. Her eyes were sharp, perceiving. They missed nothing. Her heart was strong, determinedly pumping her blood around the body. Rich and wet and number one antidote to thirst.
But I was not going to think about that now. Despite a millennia or two of practice, not killing humans still took an awful lot of control, especially when I was thirsty. So thirsty. My black eyes, reflected in the gleaming table top, told me that only too well. They were like the insides of a tunnel, extending forever, the end nowhere near in sight. They were deeper than the deepest depths of the ocean floor, deeper than my thirst…
My thirst! My damned thirst, poisoning my every thought with its sweet desire.
I had to get out of here quickly.
"Hello," I replied.
"What can I do for you today?" She asked, her voice polite. But I was a vampire. I heard a lot more than manners in her voice. I heard a shakiness that was not quite audible, yet screamed its existence. I heard uncertainty, causing odd notes utterly unperceivable to the human ear. And I saw her eyes, anxiously darting to the doorway to where I intended to be headed.
"I am here to see the Volturi," I said, getting straight to my point, before she – this little woman, would be the ruin of it all.
"Of course," she bowed her head, almost reverently. Was she blind? Or was she just stupid?
I shook my head quickly – too quickly for her dull senses to perceive. She was sure living a strange life here. Only a strange mind would ever have the lack of sense to take it on. For a second, I wondered where the Volturi was getting all these people, destined to be a mere receptionist for the rest of their sad, ill-used lives. But the woman spoke again, and I snapped back into the present.
"You can make an appointment to see them now, if you like," she prompted.
"No." I said. My voice was sure. I was not going to make an appointment. I had a sneaking suspicion, that if I did take that course, I would never meet with the Volturi. After all, I was not the stupid one. I had been around long enough to know that the Volturi's "appointments" were a mere ploy.
"Excuse me, Miss," the receptionist said, "But meeting the Volturi is strictly appointment only."
"Not in my case," I assured her.
"There are no exceptions." My voice was low and threatening. My eyes narrowed to a glare.
"Excuse me," I said, trying to keep my voice from a growl. After all, I did not want to give the receptionist a heart attack. I did not think the Volturi would appreciate me incapacitating their receptionist – it would be a pain to get another.
"No exceptions," she pressed, her voice higher than normal. For a second, a rather a tenth of a second, I had to admire her bravery. Or her stupidity. One or the other. But then the feeling was gone. I turned on my heel, my motion swifter than she could comprehend, and began my descent. I was gone before she even closer her mouth.
I had not been to Volterra for about hundred years, probably more. I did not really notice the passing of time. And yet it did pass, but nothing changed in this place. Nothing at all. It was the same stony grey place it was the day it was raised.
It took me about five minutes to reach the main chamber, for I was taking my time. I had found that, once I was here, my goal nearly in sight, the need to hurry had vanished completely.
I did not bother knocking on the ornate door anymore than I bothered admiring it. I simply burst through it, announcing my thundering presence.
All eyes turned to in the first instant. In the second instant, several vampires, the guard, were crouched in defensive positions. In the third instant, too smaller figures leapt into view.
I bowed my head. For this moment, my respect was needed. But once that moment was gone, they were not going to get it again, or at least, not for a very long time.
My head jerked up in a second, surveying those before me.
"Volturi," I said, almost but not quite graciously.
A gasp echoed.
"Peace, my brothers,"
I rolled my eyes. Already, I had had enough of his graciousness. It was simply too much for me to bear.
"I must talk," I said, my voice low. But that did not matter. I could whisper, and the one who I sought would still hear me as if I shouted the words in his direction. And that was what I felt like doing, really. Letting myself go. Relying on instinct rather than intelligence.
But I was not a newborn vampire. I had not been for eons and eons. That kind of excuse was beyond me, as it was for every other vampire in the room.
With that, I turned on my heel, and was gone from the room in the next instant. I flew along the hallway, speeding as I came to the receptionist. For a nanosecond, her sweet scent infiltrated my mind, causing me to slow my muscles. But before I could stop, I remembered my cause and I remembered who I was. My tempo increased.
In another second, or probably more
