Chapter 1: Desolation
The day Bella decided to try cliff diving, it was overcast, like it was most every day in northwest Washington. Her mood matched the sky: gray, quiet, and somber. She wanted, needed, that one bright spot to break through the clouds in the form of Edward's voice. It was getting harder and harder to hear it, so Bella knew she needed something big. Cliff diving fit the bill perfectly. She didn't want to kill herself—at least, not consciously—but that act of danger would bring out the voice in her head again, the one she so longed to hear.
Bella took a step closer to the edge, and there it was. That sweet sound of Edward's voice, begging her to stop. To step away. She closed her eyes, a peace settling over her as it did every time she heard him speak. When she stilled, the voice went away.
No! she cried in her head. Come back!
She took another step and heard him. She knew then that there was no going back. She couldn't go on without hearing it again. Her life was too dark without him, her heart too broken, and if hearing his voice was all she could get, she would do whatever it took to never again feel like she had the last few months.
His voice rang in her head, getting louder and louder with each step.
Just before taking that last step, Bella murmured aloud, "I love you, Edward. Please don't leave me."
Her next step was into empty air, and she felt herself tumble into space. His voice was screaming in her head then, drowning out the sound of the wind rushing through her hair. She didn't feel the cold, damp mist coming up from the ocean. She didn't hear the sound of a howl in the distance or the voice screaming her name from above. All Bella could hear was the sweet sound of Edward's voice, guiding her into the cold darkness of the water below.
Then, she felt and heard nothing as the blackness surrounded her.
~*~*~LVS~*~*~
The minute Rosalie had called to tell him he could finally come home to them because Bella was dead—his heart clenched at the thought—Edward had immediately hung up and called Charlie Swan's house. A stranger's voice had answered the phone—a young male, by the sound of him—and told him that Charlie was at the funeral. He'd known at that moment exactly what he needed to do.
He'd hung up without a word, run to the local airport in Rio, and booked the first flight to Florence.
On the fifteen-hour flight, he had somehow been able to turn off his gift—or at least ignore it. The only voice he could hear was Bella's.
"You did this. You killed me."
No! I didn't mean that, he mentally cried back to the voice.
"Well, you did. You left me in that forest, alone, after shattering my heart into a million pieces. What did you expect?"
The voice wasn't the sweet innocence of his Bella. It was jaded, sarcastic. Almost hateful.
It was exactly what he deserved.
I'm sorry! Oh, God, I'm so sorry, Bella. His long-dead heart was aching so badly that he felt like it was being shredded in his chest.
"Murderer! That's what you are. You belong in hell, and that's where you're going—if you have to guts to keep your promise," the voice hissed.
Yes. Yes, he had already broken one promise. He wouldn't break this one. He had told Bella he would soon follow behind her once she was dead, and he intended to do just that.
No matter what it took.
Edward trudged off the plane, not looking anyone in the eye. He could hear the Italian buzzing in his head from the thoughts of the people around him and from the speakers inside the airport. Nothing really registered, though. It was all background noise and nothing more.
No bags meant he could start the short journey from Florence to Volterra immediately. He thought about running, but as much as he wanted to follow his Bella into death, he didn't want to bring danger to his family by outing himself and the rest of the vampire community. Instead, he made his way quickly to the edge of the large parking lot, found a car he could easily take from long-term parking, and within minutes, he was on his way to the home of the Volturi.
The eighty or so kilometer drive would normally have taken a human driver close to an hour and a half. It took a heartbroken, despondent Edward only half that time. He blew past traffic, slowing only when he heard the thoughts of the local poliziotto, a policeman. Once past, he picked up speed again, his mind only partially on his driving.
He pulled off to the side of a deserted stretch of road and took off at a run. He slowed when he got near the walls of the castle. When he walked up to the gates, he was stopped by a male vampire wearing a dark red robe, the hood pulled up to cover his face from the sun.
"Mettiti questo. Dentro le mura devi indossarlo," the vampire told Edward.
Easily translating the Italian into English in his head, he understood that he needed to wear the robe inside the walls of the castle. Edward accepted the garment with a short nod and slid it on before requesting an audience with the leader of the Volturi. "Chiedo un incontro con Aro."
The other vampire's eyes shot up to meet his, and his thoughts conveyed his surprise. His voice was steady, and his words did not echo that shock when he asked for Edward's name. "Come ti chiami?"
"Edward Cullen."
Recognition dawned in the vampire's eyes, and his mind exploded with questions as to why this member of the Cullen Coven was in Volterra, but all he said was, "Un momento."
The vampire hurried away, leaving Edward alone with nothing but his melancholy and the thoughts of those around him.
Edward watched as person after person made their way through the gates. From the crowds and his knowledge of vampiric history, he knew that today was Saint Marcus Day.
With this many people around, it would be easy to force the Volturi's hand, should they not grant his request.
He was lost in thoughts and memories of his Bella when a small, almost childlike vampire stepped in front of him, flanked from behind by two much larger males.
"Jane," he murmured, nodding down at the young woman. He acknowledged the two men with her, as well. "Felix. Demetri."
"Come," she said, turning her back on him.
He followed her as she moved away, and he felt the two Volturi guards move in behind him as Jane led the small group through the streets and into a dark alley.
~*~LVS~*~
Two hours later, Edward stood in front of the three thrones, head bowed and hands clenched into fists at his side. Aro, Marcus, and Caius, the three heads of the Volturi, sat in front of him, each with a different expression on their faces. Caius appeared bored, already having dismissed Edward and his request in his mind. Marcus was as close to a zombie as Edward had ever seen, and from his thoughts, Marcus couldn't care less about what happened to Edward. In fact, Edward wasn't even sure Marcus really had a clue that anything was happening at all.
Aro, on the other hand, was looking somberly down at him from his perch on the large chair. He'd already touched Edward's hand, read his thoughts and memories, and had moved back to sit while he thought about Edward's request.
"My dear boy," he murmured. "Surely there is another way. Your talent is much too wonderful to be wasted, no?"
Edward simply waited, still and quiet, knowing Aro had seen how sure he was of his decision.
When Edward didn't answer, Aro thought, Such a shame. A waste. But then Edward heard his next thought just before the vampire spoke it aloud, and his still heart felt as if it sighed with relief.
"If there are no objections from my brothers," he said, looking to Caius and Marcus, "then I find no reason not to grant your request."
Edward's gaze rose to look at the three men, waiting to hear from the two on either side of Aro. With a flick of his wrist, Caius gave his consent. Marcus turned his head to glance at Edward, and his eyes flickered with a hint more sadness before he closed himself off again. Dismissing the entire proceedings with another turn of his head, he retreated internally, staring at the stone walls of the circular room.
"This saddens me greatly, Edward," Aro continued. "You could live a very long life here with us." He paused, giving Edward one last chance to change his mind. When none came, he nodded. "Out of respect for my old friend, Carlisle, I will make sure your death is quick. Felix, Demetri. Please." He motioned with one hand toward Edward.
Edward breathed an inaudible sigh of relief and relaxed, letting fate take over. When Demetri stepped behind him and gathered both his arms behind his back, Edward closed his eyes. He felt Felix step up in front of him, and through Felix's mind, he saw himself: head up, eyes closed, a look of resigned peace on his face.
Edward continued watching as Felix reached out to him, and then he felt the man's large hands on the sides of his head. His last thought before Felix wrenched it from his shoulders was of his Bella.