"The Runner"
Entry for the 'The Softer Side of Villainy Contest'
Summary: Santiago's a guard, a soldier, a lover, a vampire, and a prisoner, and his chance at redemption comes in the form of a woman – a runner.
Pairing: Santiago/OC
Word Count: 9,995
Rating: M
Disclaimer: Me no owny-owny Twilight OR any of the characters used/mentioned – except for Alessandra and the characterisation of Santiago – as it all belongs to Stephenie Meyer. I'm just playing around with the world she created.
Author's Note: An apology if I've butchered any of the languages I've used, and a HUGE 'thank you' to my wonderful beta, The Chimaera's Mane – she keeps me on track like a dieter with a lemon-glazed doughnut dangling in front of their face from a stick and a string. Thank you for putting up with my late-night/early-morning phone calls and numerous e-mails, C – I love you!
"Saint James the Greater," was what she had said to him as he sat on the front step of their make-shift home in Cádiz, after he had asked her why she had named him Santiago.
His mamá had always been a devout Catholic and she had grown up in Compostèla, where a sacred relic of Saint James' was kept. She had always loved the stories of St. James' preaching in España, ever since she was a little girl, and she had told him countless times that she knew she would have a single son and that she would name him after the holy man.
"Santiago," she had breathed softly, holding his small ten-year-old body to her withering frame on that front step. "He was just and great… I had, and still have, the same hope for you, mi hijo."
He had watched her cough with the soft eyes of youth, not knowing that el Segador – the Reaper – was silently watching from the shadows.
El Segador had taken his mamá and left him alone in the vast and dangerous world.
His padre had deserted them when his mamá was ripe with pregnancy – he still recalled how she would never remove her wedding ring, hopeful that Amador, her one love, would return…
Santiago looked down at his bare chest – there sat his mamá's simple gold-coloured ring, hanging from a piece of black cord.
She had given it to him on her deathbed, extracting a promise from him that he would give it to the girl he loved – his su amor.
He had not had the time to find the girl his heart beat for.
He had not had the time to live past nineteen.
He had not had the time to make his peace.
He had not had the time to even die.
He was unchanging and undying, inmortal, forever recounting the days that had long-since passed – the days of his mother; the days of his sailing; the days before a nomad had bitten into his neck at port and changed his life forever.
He had sailed the world, riding the wind from port to port until the day his maker had chosen him – then he was lost, burning for days, and when he finally awoke…it was to three pairs of red eyes on a rocking ship.
Jane, Alec and Felix – three of the most prestigious members of the Volturi Guard – had found him after destroying his maker, who had been intent on creating an army of newborn vampires. The three had been sent by their masters to clean up the mess the nomad had made – that was their only mission. But when they had found Santiago, they had taken a shine to him and they had taken him back to their home, in the hills of Italia.
To Volterra.
Santiago remembered the moment he spied those towering walls of sand-coloured blocks, with sloping terracotta roofs and red flags flying from every arch, door and window.
It had been the Saint Marcus day festival when he arrived all those years ago, and it helped illuminate the story of vampiros for him.
He remembered how the King's eyes – Aro's eyes – had turned on him and how the man had smiled at his beautiful face. Santiago was kept, his newborn strength a huge asset to him in those early years, and trained for battle – he was trained to kill for the Volturi.
The Volturi were rulers of the vampiro realm – they were the royalty and the government, the judges and the executioners… Their power was infinite.
Santiago knew of nothing vampiro beyond the walls of the Italiano town in which he lived.
He was given a clean room; fresh blood weekly; the honour of being part of the Guard; the chance to train and learn from the best vampiro fighters in the world… It seemed as though he had everything, and he was the type of man to make friends easily, so he did not lack companionship – male and female alike.
Santiago sighed and rested his elbows on the stone sill of the single window in his bedroom – he dropped his head into his hands, running his fingers through his thick, black hair.
He had his mamá's hair…
A sharp crack sounded in the room as his frustration and pain mounted, and Santiago looked down to see the points of his elbows embedded in the sand-coloured stone sill.
He stepped back, his bare feet not making a sound on the red-tiled floor in all his inmortal grace – he longed for the days when his feet would shuffle noisily, and his heart had beaten strongly in his chest…
He saw no reason to a man without a beating heart - un corazón que late – and, therefore, he had no reason, no purpose.
His only job was to serve – as a soldier, as a guard…and as a lover.
Santiago winced at the pain in his chest when he thought of how he had been commanded…used…
He belonged to the Volturi – the most powerful coven of vampires on Earth – and his beauty…was the main reason he was among their ranks.
His body was toned, a darker pale than most vampires and muscled in all the right places. His features were beautiful, his jaw chiselled, his crimson eyes perfect for the set of his face…and his tongue? It was sinful.
It was no secret that he knew how to pleasure a woman – especially a beautiful one at that. They were so easy to read - un libro abierto; they were an open book to him.
They were also fixated.
The dama that he had apparently captured the heart of – the woman with hair like spun gold, eyes of sharp and vivid red, and a figure to rival Aphrodite's – was obsessed with him.
Athenodora.
Santiago had no qualms taking the dama to bed – her body pleased his, and she knew how to physically love a man – but her King did.
Caius, one of the three masters of the Volturi, knew of Athenodora's arrangement with Santiago, and he was not pleased – Caius would go out of his way to humiliate and degrade Santiago at every turn.
But Santiago refused to be beaten down – he did not love the dama; he only pleasured her to make her keep his secret.
"Mi secreto…" Santiago breathed, softly sitting down on the end of his plain bed – he liked to keep things simple, he wanted no grandeur.
Perhaps that was why his secreto was so beautiful to him – his secreto was a woman; una mujer hermosa…
A beautiful woman.
He stood swiftly, almost flying to the window of his room and taking up the post he had stood at for hours already – he knew when she would arrive, but the rare long and empty days were so unbearable without the mere sight of her that he would wait for hours before she was due to appear just remembering the last time he saw her.
Santiago's fingers drummed on the window sill anxiously – the sun was preparing to rise, it was almost seven o'clock, and anticipation thrummed through his veins as he knew that at any moment she would arrive…
His breath was stolen from him.
There she was – his secreto.
Her slim form slipped around the side of the building closest to the public gates to Volterra – her pale skin glowed in the dim, early-morning light as she flitted past the stone arch and iron bars of the gates and down the cobbled street leading up to them.
Santiago leaned forward, trying to take in every last detail he could about the woman with his perfect sight and infallible memory.
Her dark hair fell down her back in waves, crimson glowing in the dark chestnut locks where the sun caught it. Her long legs were bare, as were her feet, and she wore a knee-length white dress that looked like it had been stolen from an ángel.
As she flitted past windows in the street like a dove, he caught a full glance at her mesmerising face – her lips were rose, her face was slender, her eyes were wide and shaded in an innocent brown.
Dios made that face – God made it for Santiago to love and to cherish.
He could hear her heart beating loudly in her chest as she ran, and then she disappeared into the slowly brightening streets.
"Until tomorrow," he murmured, patiently waiting for her soft scent to be delivered to him on the breeze.
Slowly, tendrils of warmth wrapped around him – beneath that layer of warmth, lay the scent of spring blossoms and peaches.
Santiago sighed, wishing he could find out why every morning at sunrise his secreto ran through Volterra with bare feet and he never saw her return – he had his duties to attend to and never saw her for the rest of the day.
"Santiago," a high-pitched voice sounded along the corridor to his room.
He sighed again, inaudibly, steeling himself, "My Queen."
Santiago turned to watch his door open and the dama step through – she smiled coquettishly at him as her light green silk robes fluttered off her body.
"Now, now, 'Tiago," she purred, "You know I like it when you call me 'Dora'."
Santiago turned back to the window and savoured the warmth the sun brought as it rose higher and set his skin alight with sparkles.
"It's your husband's name for you," he murmured.
"Yes," she hissed softly, going to him and letting her hands crawl over his muscled shoulders, "But when he says it, it means he's going to give me another unsatisfying round of making love in bed. However, if you say it…I know I'm going to the moon – whether it be on the floor, or in the bathroom…or on the window sill... Oh, and how is your lovely female blood-bag today?"
Santiago spun to face her with hate in his eyes, "Bruja!"
The dama's teeth gleamed as she smiled at him victoriously, "Dora."
His hand whipped out, tearing her gown in two in one swift movement – she gasped in shock, but he knew it was only playful. The way her body arched closer to his told him that she was begging for his touch, whether it be rough or loving – there was no love inside him for her at all, and especially not today; not when he had the perfection of his secreto still fresh in his mind, and the dama had threatened her so blatantly.
The dama's skin shimmered in the light before he roughly pushed her towards the shadowed bed – he didn't want her to have something so beautiful on her skin. She didn't deserve it.
"Dora," he growled as she fell back onto his bare bed, long golden hair spilling every which way – he ripped away his trousers, and stalked towards her completely naked.
Her hungry gaze ravaged him, coming to fix upon his considerably large endowment – she licked her lips obscenely.
He climbed over her, his body moving lithely like a jungle cat's, and bit her hard and unyielding neck – a vampire's skin was unimaginably tough, like icy stone, and Santiago found himself wishing that it was a little more easily marked. Perhaps if Master Caius saw evidence of his Queen's betrayal, he wouldn't look on dispassionately – maybe he would finally order Santiago's demise, or at least banishment.
But Santiago was not so lucky.
His hands became harsher, fingers grasping and digging into the dama's skin, and he had to force himself to become aroused by her body – he had practice doing this.
"Yes, yes, yes!" She cried, tipping her head back as Santiago prepared to harshly take her – she panted against his ear as he slammed into her.
The wooden bed frame splintered against the wall as Santiago began to pound into the dama – her moans and pants were not the ones he longed to hear, and it just made his body work harder to punish hers.
He only had one promise to make, "Un día, te mato…"
She moaned at the sound of his voice softly murmuring Spanish, but did not heed his words – she should have learnt the language long ago.
She wasn't tight, nor did she feel as good as she had done before – he was sick of her, and no matter how good his skills, or how wicked his tongue, or how beautiful his body, he could not make himself release if he did not want to.
The dama cried out shrilly, wailing against his ear as her inner walls clutched him, "Yes! Fill me up!"
His last thrusts were merciless but more mechanical than anything – he brushed the right spots, pushed the right places…
She came with a cry like a banshee.
Santiago stopped moving, before completely slipping out of the dama's warmth – she sighed, stretching like a satisfied cat.
After a moment, she paused in her movements, "'Tiago, you usually want to go for much longer…"
He turned away, pulling a new pair of trousers out of the simple chest of drawers to the side of the room, "You were good."
He could hear her smug smile stretch across her face, "I know."
The dama moved, slipping off of the bed and throwing a glance out of the window as she picked up her shredded silk gown, "I do not know why you pine for a human, 'Tiago. I have seen her once – worthless, wretched…thing…"
Her words trailed off at Santiago's dangerous look, before she gathered her courage and shook her head at him indulgently.
Santiago reluctantly tolerated her fleeting embrace, and the kiss she laid upon his ear…and the words she murmured…
"Same time tomorrow…and, next time, you better enjoy it..."
The dama was gone in under a moment, her inmortal speed allowing her to practically vanish from the room.
Santiago sighed and sat at the end of his bed – he turned to look at the mussed sheets over his shoulder and then wrinkled his nose at the overpowering scent of lilacs that clung to them. The dama's scent was a toxin, one that simply just clung to everything.
He knew he needed to shower, just to clean the memory of her from his skin and start afresh.
It did not take him long to change the bed sheets, air the room, take a shower and change his clothes – his inmortal speed helped him to be ready for his duty in the Guard for the rest of the day in no time at all.
But no matter how hard Santiago tried to rid himself of the dama's scent, a few tiny molecules still clung to him – they were enough for Felix to sniff out with his excellent senses and to give Santiago a slightly disgusted look when they met for their duties.
"I don't know why you bother," Felix hissed, trying to stare down Santiago and use his taller stature to his advantage.
But Santiago wouldn't be looked down upon, and stared right back at Felix as if he were the exact same height.
"Perdón?"
Felix gave him a sarcastic smile, "Everyone knows that the Queen sees you, and you 'see to' her."
Santiago rolled his shoulder in a half shrug as he smoothed out his black suit that matched Felix's, "I have nothing to say."
Felix nodded, his crimson eyes hardening – Santiago knew he was angry because he valued the relationship between mates, especially those of his masters. But Felix did not know what Santiago knew – more importantly, what the dama knew. If Santiago did not please the Queen, then his secreto would be in danger.
Their duty for the rest of the day was to keep the peace in Volterra – it was the twenty-first century, where drugs, guns and crime were rife even in the far corners of the earth. Aro had ordered the Guard long ago to make sure that Volterra was never disturbed by such human goings-on, and so it was Santiago's and Felix's turn to make sure that Volterra was kept clean.
They took the sewer exit that led up to the streets of Volterra, flicking up the hoods of their cloaks as they went – the sun was bright, but the alleys were dark and it was in the alleys that their mission lay. It was in the alleys that drugs dealers would loiter, coming from larger towns to sell their goods in smaller ones – they weren't citizens of Volterra, and so…were fair game.
It was long ago that Aro had ordered no vampiro would feed on the humans from their home – tourists, visitors, and new criminals all fell outside of that category, and Santiago was feeling a little thirsty.
Despite his earlier attitude towards Santiago, Felix smiled, "Soon, Santiago. Soon."
Felix was intimidating at the best of times – his eyes were usually hidden beneath the tips of his black bangs of hair, and his mouth was almost always curled in a predatory grin – but Santiago did feel a certain kinship with the overly-large and well-muscled vampiro. It had been Felix that had taught him how to hunt in the first place.
The alleys were shady and deserted, and dust swirled through the warm air as Santiago and Felix passed through the labyrinth of passages.
Felix's face took on an uncommon frown, "Perhaps there'll be no lunch for us today…"
As soon as the words were out of his mouth, they both heard a deep voice begin murmuring away – it was quite clear to Santiago's inmortal ears, but he supposed humans would not be able to hear it until they were right next to the man.
"…don't have the stuff on us – we couldn't get it past the police at the front gate. We left it at the place you told us to in an emergency – again. Has someone already gone to get it? Do you un-der-stand what I'm say-in'? Fuckin' Italians – right, Dan? Don't know why we deal with 'em – I never understand what they're sayin'…"
A gruff laugh agreed with the Englishman's statement.
Felix's sudden smile was feral, and Santiago felt a bubble of anticipation rise in his stomach – he knew he had never lived up to his mamá's expectations of him; he had never been just and good in his one-hundred-and-fifty-year long life…and as a vampiro, he loved blood much too much.
He loved the feel of it sliding down his throat; the taste always sent a thrill shooting through his body; the smell always intoxicated him; the wet thudding of a heart petering out always sent him into a frenzy…
Santiago felt veneno – venom – flood his mouth. His tongue was coated in the sickly-sweet liquid and it made his throat burn with thirst – he swallowed a few times, trying to alleviate the ache, but it didn't disappear.
He knew only blood would soothe his hunger.
Felix ghosted forwards, letting Santiago follow behind like a child being led to the dinner table – it had always been this way between Santiago and Felix; un estudiante y un maestro.
The alley was long and dark – the sand-coloured bricks were grimier in this part of Volterra, and Santiago's sharp vision picked out every molecule of green and black mould that infected the stonework in his peripheral vision as he kept his eyes trained on a battered, wooden door with paint peeling from it at the end of the alley.
Felix pushed open the door to reveal the corner of a small, high-walled space that resembled a back garden, and as Santiago followed and passed by the wooden door his fingers caressed the knot of rope that acted as the handle – he savoured the anticipation rising within him, forgetting everything but the five hearts thudding behind the thin wall that ran across the back of the house with an iron gate set in it.
Their feet were silent on the small, cracked terracotta tiles as they stood behind the rusted metal gate and surveyed the scene before them.
Two pale-skinned men sat back in plastic chairs at a plastic table, looking arrogantly confident – by their features and scent, Santiago could tell they were brothers. They both had dirty-blonde hair and gaunt faces, and they both smelt of the forest, chemicals and salt-water – he guessed they had been aboard a ship recently; it was probably the only way they could get the drugs into Italy.
Santiago felt a stab of nostalgia for his sailing days, before he smelt the other three men on the other side of the table.
A low growl built in his chest at the scent of one of them – he smelt like the sun, and it drew Santiago forward like a fly to honey.
He fixed his eyes upon the taller of the two darker-skinned men, who stood behind the fifth man seated at the table – all their hair was cut short, their skin tanned, and their hands beneath their dark jackets.
"Guns," Felix murmured reproachfully, before softly clicking his tongue in playful disappointment.
Santiago smiled, his darker side taking over in anticipation of bloodshed and at the idea of warm blood flecking his skin from a gunshot wound.
A cloud shifted behind the two vampiros and their shadows were cast – their forms washed across the bright plastic table, and both of them watched as the five men's eyes widened and flicked up.
Their hands all went to their weapons, but Felix still had the time to roll his eyes at Santiago and open the iron gate before their fingers could grasp the guns properly.
Adrenaline swamped the air, making Santiago's eyes turn black and his throat erupt into flames – it took no effort to grasp one of the pale English brothers and quench his thirst. His teeth sank into the man's neck and fresh crimson blood gushed down his throat – the brother quieted quickly, his body turning cold as Felix saw to the others.
The other vampiro's large hands grasped and knocked the three Italians' heads, sending them slumping to the ground before he grasped the other English brother and began drinking from him heartily.
The two humans' pale green eyes connected as the two vampiros fed, before their eyelids fluttered closed and their heads dropped to their clothed, blood-stained chests.
Santiago's meal was short-lived – the human's blood was weak and thin, probably from drug-use, and though the salty sea-scent that clung to him appealed to Santiago's nostalgic side, his blood tasted almost bitter and foul.
Felix's head rose from the other brother's neck and he grimaced at Santiago, "Not good."
Santiago nodded, draining the very last drops of blood from the human in his arms before removing his mouth and replying.
"Terrible," he murmured, his tongue rolling around and cleaning his teeth and the corners of his mouth.
They let the empty bodies drop to the shadowed, tiled floor, before turning to the three remaining unconscious humans.
"Dibs," Felix grinned, pointing to the thinnest of the men left. "He smells good."
Santiago nodded, a smile creeping onto his face as the tallest man's scent invaded his nostrils, "Take him. My eyes are on another."
Santiago stepped towards the pile of men, but Felix held out a hand to make him pause, "They spoke of another…"
Santiago's head cleared of his bloodlust a little as he looked away from the tallest human and up at Felix – he nodded, knowing it was the truth.
"We wait after," Felix said gruffly, picking up his human to feed on.
Santiago's thirst returned full-force and he pounced on his own human – he fed from him greedily, glutting himself on the man's fine-tasting blood. He groaned and growled, feeling his entire body strengthen with every pull of the thick, red liquid.
Santiago and Felix finished quickly, knowing that at any moment another human would come across them expecting the deal to still be taking place.
Felix took the four bodies to the closest sewer entrance while Santiago kept a look-out for any nearby humans – they left the last human, the one that seemed to have the most importance, alive as bait, in case the human they were waiting for was intelligent and knew something was wrong before they properly arrived in the walled space.
As Santiago waited for Felix to return, he considered his options – he did not think of them often, seeing as he did not have many, but as he remembered his secreto it made him think of being…free.
He wanted to be as free as she looked when she ran, with the wind caressing her dark locks and whipping at the hem of her white dress…
Santiago's eyes snapped open as soon as he realised he had closed them – he shook away the thoughts of his secreto, knowing that if he had any contact with her they would both be in danger.
He did not want the evil of the Volturi to touch his precious and beautiful secreto, nor the evil that he himself would bring to her – he knew that his soul was black, if it even existed at all.
Santiago did not pretend that he was honourable – he knew he wasn't, no matter how much he wished he was; for his secreto, and for his mamá.
It was as her faded face passed through his head that he heard a heart begin pounding close-by – the houses and alleys surrounding his spot on the shadowed corner of a rooftop were all empty and completely void of life…except for one.
Two feet hit the ground of an alley towards the north, quickly but lightly for a human – Santiago could hear their soft and fluttering breaths, along with their thudding heart. He could hear the rustling of clothing, the soft brushing of skin, the swish of hair…
Felix emerged on top of a roof opposite Santiago – the large vampire crouched and smiled at him in anticipation as he looked down into the alley that the human would run down.
Santiago watched Felix's expression transform into one of hunger as he watched the human run past – Felix's eyes flicked up once they had passed and he mouthed 'Dibs'.
"Usted y esa palabra maldita," Santiago growled softly, looking back down into the space where the human would appear soon enough.
He took one last glance at the still-unconscious human propped up in one of the plastic chairs at the table, facing away from the gate, before preparing to drop…
His breath was stolen – as it always was – at the sight of her.
"Mi secreto…" He breathed in complete disbelief.
Her fine face was slightly pink from the exertion of running, and one of the straps of her dress had slid completely off her shoulder. Her hair was windswept, curling wildly, her eyes were bright and shining, and her feet were bare and dirtied.
A black rucksack sat on her back, and as the wind shifted Santiago could smell the parcels of drugs that lay within it, as well as the scent of the forest layered thickly on every inch of her fine and pale skin.
She skidded to a halt at the metal gate and stepped through with a large and beautiful smile on her face.
"Papà," she breathed, her elegant fingers reaching out to touch the unconscious man's shoulder.
Santiago felt his dead heart race, his head swimming sharply as he connected the pieces of information the day had bestowed upon him.
His secreto was a runner for her padre, a drug dealer, who ran every morning into the forest just outside of Volterra's walls to collect the day's shipment…
"Seven o'clock…" He murmured – it was at seven-fifteen that la policía at the gates changed over shifts, and it was at just gone one o'clock that they changed again for human food and refreshments.
His secreto was a criminal, and, therefore, shewas one of those he had been commanded to eradicate.
His mother's voice sounded as he watched the beautiful woman's face transform in slow-motion into abject horror as she saw the wound to her padre's head,
"He was just and great… I had, and still have, the same hope for you…"
What was the just and great thing to do?
She was a criminal, yet did she deserve to have her throat torn from her and her blood sucked down by an undead demonio?
Did any of those that had endured that fate deserve it?
Santiago knew he only wanted to save her.
She turned, dropping the bag and making her escape as her heart pounded in fear.
Santiago leapt from the rooftop in a blur of black, colliding with his secreto and tucking her body against his as he rolled towards the corner of the closest alley that held the uncovered sewer entrance.
They fell in swiftly and silently, his hand covering her mouth and nose until she fell unconscious.
It was done in a matter of seconds, and it broke his heart.
Felix dropped into the sewer behind Santiago, the rucksack of drugs on his back and the other, now-dead, human slung over his shoulder – fury rolled off of him, "What was that? 'Dibs' – remember?"
His large hands reached for the soft, sweet-smelling woman pressed against Santiago's hard body and Santiago hissed in warning,
"Pet."
"What?" Felix asked, his anger evaporating instantly.
Santiago tried not to grimace, "I call 'pet' – it beats your 'dibs'."
Felix's face was coloured with surprise, as was his voice, "You've never taken a pet before."
"She…appeals to me," Santiago replied stiffly.
Felix stepped back and nodded once, "Fine. Keep her. But you know they never last long."
Felix turned and carried on up the sewer, leaving Santiago behind to stew in own self-hatred.
He had done the one thing he had never wanted to do – he had taken the woman he longed for, and he had pulled her into the pit along with him.
All his meetings with the dama had been pointless after she had caught him staring at his secreto that one morning – he would not have needed to sell his body to the dama to ensure her silence, if he just took his secreto from the human world anyway.
He looked down at the woman in his arms in the purple darkness – her face was lax in her induced slumber and guilt gnawed at his insides as he looked upon her beautiful features.
Santiago knew that he had destroyed her life completely – once a pet had been made so, there was no going back.
He lifted her into his arms and followed after Felix – the only thing he could do now was to keep her safe by 'keeping' her.
The sewers were an easy maze to conquer, and soon enough Santiago was greeted by the dim lights outside the doors to the reception area – he heard laughing as he nudged open the doors with his elbow, his arms full with the beautiful woman, and refrained from smiling at the scene that he was met with.
Felix's hands were pressed against the desk that Gianna, the human receptionist, sat behind and he was leaning forwards, smiling flirtatiously.
Santiago wondered when Felix would petition Aro to change Gianna – he was so very obviously in love with her.
He sighed, lifting the woman's head up to rest against his chest more comfortably – he wished that his love were so simple.
Gianna giggled at Felix, brushing her hand over his as he made a joke – his eyes lit up, before he recognised that Santiago was standing close-by.
Felix's smile dimmed and he stepped back from Gianna, turning to face Santiago, "Come, then."
He nodded and followed the larger vampire into the throne room, where the three masters of the Volturi sat in their thrones.
Aro's thin face looked troubled as Santiago came forward, whilst Caius looked angered at his presence and Marcus looked uncaring – Santiago watched Aro stand fluidly from his throne, his long black hair not even rippling from the movement.
"You bring us…a human?" Aro questioned softly, his tone deceptively light.
Felix stepped to the side, letting Santiago pass forwards further.
His secreto's heart was fluttering now, her body recognising the danger that was near even when she was unconscious – the quicker sound made his body tense, bloodlust and desire coursing through him.
Aro did not miss Santiago's muscles tensing and rippling with the control he had to exert not to drain or kiss the woman in his arms – his eyes flickered over Santiago with interest.
"Speak," Caius growled, his snowy-blonde hair framing his face which was glowing with disgust.
"I ask of you," Santiago said respectfully, bowing his head, "That you spare the woman…and allow me to keep her."
He did not falter, did not stumble – he had to do this one thing right for her.
He had to save her.
Aro's fine black brows rose in surprise, "But…Santiago, you have never shown interest in keeping a pet before?"
Santiago nodded, "No, Master, I have not. But she appeals to me."
Aro looked over him carefully, before his red eyes roved over Felix, "What say you, Felix? You usually call 'dibs' fairly quickly with brunettes?"
Santiago watched Felix force a smirk, "I lost out."
He was covering for him.
Santiago felt a rush of gratitude.
Out of the corner of his eye, Santiago saw Marcus' eyebrows twitch in what could have been surprise – he cursed his stupidity for not thinking that Marcus would not be able to sense any bond between himself and his secreto.
But the eldest brother stayed silent.
Aro lightly rubbed his hands together, "Very well. I see no…problem with this arrangement. You know the rules, Santiago?"
His voice was deep, dark, and dangerous.
Santiago nodded, "Yes, Master. Pets are to be kept in their owners' rooms at all times, and under no circumstances are they to be…turned, unless specified by you, Master."
"Good," Aro breathed, giving Santiago a soft smile before his eyes flickered over the woman in his arms. "She is…pleasing. You may go now."
Aro waved his long-fingered hand absently at Santiago, and he took the opportunity to back away as fast as he could – Felix followed after him, even after they had passed through the reception area.
Once Santiago was back to his room and the beautiful woman was safely on his plain bed, he turned on the larger vampire.
"¿Por qué?"
Felix's eyes flitted to the unconscious woman and then back to Santiago – he stepped forwards a fraction, "I understand."
Santiago said nothing.
Felix stepped closer, leaning down, "I understand."
"Gi–?"
Felix slammed a hand over his mouth, "Don't say anything! Just…don't."
Santiago shook Felix's hand off, turning to the occupied bed, "Very well."
Felix followed and stopped him, grasping his forearm tightly, "This isn't going to go down well. Pets never last." Santiago's answering look clearly said everything that Felix needed to know, "I know she's…not… Look. Be careful. I'm not watching your back...and Master Caius did not look happy."
He left.
It was all that needed to be said, and Santiago smiled faintly – Felix was the closest friend he had.
Santiago threw off his cloak and suit jacket, setting himself down on the end of the bed as he looked over his 'pet' – her breathing was light but even, and her muscles were relaxed; she looked peaceful.
He wondered how long that peacefulness would last.
He sighed, running his hand through his hair, "Dios mío..."
A soft snuffling sound broke the silence after tens of minutes, and Santiago looked up to see his secreto sweetly burrowing into his pillow – he couldn't help the tender smile that flitted across his face.
A single curl fell over her eyes as she moved, framing her left one and causing her to blink in irritation – she slowly woke, eyelids fluttering and brow furrowing.
"Hola," he murmured.
There was not much he could say to a woman he had been secretly watching for weeks and then proceeded to kidnap.
Her dark brown, almost black, orbs watched him with something akin to fear, yet she was far too composed to be afraid of him.
Santiago frowned at her, "Are you well?"
She paused a moment, before nodding reluctantly – her hand swept back her long hair as she curled her legs beneath herself and forced her back against the wooden headboard of the bed.
"My name is Santiago, and…you will be living with me from now on," he informed her.
Her rose-coloured lips parted, "Are you… Did you kill my papà?"
He shook his head, "No. Another did."
She nodded numbly.
"Your name," Santiago commanded softly.
"Alessandra."
He was struck by its beauty, and was unable to stop himself from smiling at her, "Perfecto."
"Spagnolo?" Alessandra asked, and Santiago nodded.
The conversation halted for a moment, silence blanketing them – Santiago let out a frustrated noise, tugging at the buttons of his shirt and letting them pop open.
His mamá's ring felt heavy against his chest, beneath the hollow of his throat, and he idly wondered whether it was because the rightful wearer of the jewellery was so close.
In another place, another time, he would have courted the woman who was now his prisoner – he was being true to himself as he thought that he had almost instantly fallen in love with her the first moment he saw her, but he had just never let the truth settle inside of him.
As he turned back to Alessandra, he let that truth finally settle – it seemed to make her that much more beautiful.
She diverted her gaze, "What do you want with me? Are you part of the police?"
"No," he breathed. "But I am someone who punishes your kind."
"What 'kind'?" She said sharply, her beautiful eyes narrowing. "Criminals, perhaps?"
"Yes."
She stilled, before looking down at the simple bedspread, "I am no criminal. I'm… I'm a runner."
Her voice was soft and sweet, and Santiago knew that if he could drown in that voice he would.
"I know."
Alessandra looked up at him, "I love to run."
"Carrying drugs?" He asked sardonically.
"I'm not proud…but I'm not ashamed," she stated simply. "Arrest me, then."
He shook his head, "There are no handcuffs here. No bars. No cells."
"How are you going to punish me?" She asked, innocence practically radiating from her.
Santiago gave her a slow, sad smile, "You're my pet."
"Pet?" She whispered.
Santiago reached for her hand, "You stay with me…or you die."
Most humans would have shouted or screamed, begging to be let go whilst they did not understand the severity of the situation, but she was different – her eyes held wisdom beyond her years, and she seemed to see Santiago's inner torment.
She understood.
She took his hand.
"You have been caught before," he stated, his usually silky voice hardened with anger.
Alessandra nodded, "My papà, his business… It wasn't at all…safe. I've been…kidnapped – I suppose – one too many times. The others were not as kind as you have been so far – for example, I'm still wearing my clothes."
Santiago's venom boiled at the thought, but he knew his rage would do little good in helping her to trust him.
He squeezed her hand ever so gently, "There are rules. You stay in this room, you speak to no one else, and you follow my orders."
Alessandra gave him a pointed look, "Of course – isn't that standard procedure? But–"
Just at that moment, the sun shone a little brighter – sunlight flashed over the shadowed part of the room…and Santiago's skin.
He burst into a thousand-billion sparkles – sparkles that only knew how to shine, and shine, and nothing else.
Alessandra's beautiful eyes widened, his reflection glimmering in her dark orbs, and her rose-lipped mouth parted silently – Santiago could only stare.
Her fingers left his and rose like curious adventurers, eager to map out new land – the land being his face and the column of his neck.
Santiago couldn't deny the beautiful woman her curiosity – she would know what he was sooner or later, by accident or not – and he enjoyed the heat of her touch. Her fingers were like little flickering flames barely brushing his skin as they danced across his defined features – her touches felt like a thousand tiny kisses being laid onto his skin.
Perhaps it was wishful thinking, but he could have sworn that her eyes dilated in desire.
But their moment was broken – a shrill voice sounded down the corridor to Santiago's room, and he knew who was coming.
He turned and covered Alessandra with his body in one of her heartbeats, whispering, "Stay behind me."
She tipped her head in acknowledgement, a little fear suddenly rising to the surface of her still-awed face.
Santiago waited for the dama to step through the door, and when she did, her eyes were wide and angry, crimson no longer and replaced with pitch black – she hissed, her hands transforming into claws.
"'Tiago! What is the meaning of this? I heard you've taken a pet!" She screeched.
Santiago nodded once, "My Queen."
The dama flitted forwards, "You are mine!"
"And she is mine," he stated, almost challengingly.
The dama's face went blank and she seemed to lose power, "But…why?"
He did not answer.
He could see her restraining herself from lashing out, but he did not know why – perhaps the dama cared more than he had previously thought?
She stepped back, hands reaching to claw the stone arch of the doorway on her way out, "This is not what I want. This is not what I want."
The dama fled, her robes swishing behind her and snapping as she vanished.
Alessandra's heartbeat was reasonably steady, and Santiago had to admire her courage – he turned to shoot her a small smile and reach for her hand once again.
Her dark eyes locked with his, glazing over slightly as he moved into the sunlight and sparkled before her again – he had never used hypnosis before, not having the need, and he now understood how it was done.
Like a niño with a shiny toy.
"You're…" She breathed, her warm and beautifully-scented breath washing over him.
She saw the outside shell – he was a beautiful, shining man, but beneath he was made of webs of lies and hate, bloodlust and desire…
"Complicated," she finished, with a small smile.
Santiago had not been expecting that, and the smile he returned was genuine.
Alessandra's eyes fluttered a fraction, barely anything to a human but enough for a vampiro – Santiago led her back to the bed.
"Lay here and sleep. I shall find you some…sustenance."
She nodded, her graceful spine slumping tiredly as she sat on the edge of his bed and looked down towards her bare feet.
Santiago was loath to leave her alone, but her care was in his hands and it was well-known that pets that were not looked after properly by their owners were fair game.
He made sure to lock the door on his way out – not that it would stop any vampiro, but he could not risk her escaping.
She was his now.
It did not take him long to sniff out the disused kitchens of the castle – he had never been to the large, cavernous room before, and he could smell only Gianna in the air…and a little of Felix.
Santiago smiled to himself secretly – Felix did indeed understand.
It was a compulsion, an obsession, for Santiago to see his secreto, and now that he had her, he knew he would spend so much time with her – every second, if it were possible.
He knew it was the same for Felix.
Santiago took a bowl of fresh fruit off of one counter and a few plastic bottles of water off of another, and then took his leave.
When he returned to his room, he was relieved to see the door was still locked and that no unusual scents lay nearby – he could also hear the steady, slumbering heartbeat of Alessandra, behind the thick wooden door of his room.
He turned the key in the lock, opened the door, and felt his lips curve upwards slightly when he glimpsed the beautiful, sleeping woman with her long dark curls fanned out over his pillow.
Santiago left his offerings by the side of the bed on which she slept and then sat down softly on the other – he pulled off his shirt and turned to watch Alessandra sleep.
Her chest rose and fell with her soft breaths, and her body sent out waves of warmth which washed over Santiago silently – he sighed as the sun began to sink over the horizon, leaving only Alessandra to warm him.
Her pale skin looked so soft…
"Please, touch me," she suddenly breathed.
Santiago almost flinched in surprise – he had been too distracted by her perfect body to notice she had awakened.
But he was cold, only slightly warmed by her excess body heat – he would not touch her and scare her away – and he knew that now, in the shadows where it was only him and her, he would not be able to refrain from having her.
He had imagined them making love so often…
"Per favore," she whispered, her voice entreating.
The soldier, the guard, the lover, the man…he broke – his fingers were on her less than a second later, caressing her silky-smooth skin.
Alessandra turned onto her back, pulling Santiago on top of her with the strength of a kitten – yet he followed her, wanting her to take from him everything she needed.
Her lips were flames on his cheek as she breathed against his ear, "Do me."
Everything fell flat – the entire world lost all its flavour and colour in that one second, and Santiago felt besmirched.
A growl rose in his chest, "Is this what you did, mi secreto, to all the others who took you? Did you ask them to 'do' you?" His voice became a snarl, "A vision of beauty and loveliness, and she asks me to 'do' her!"
"What are you–?" She began, adrenaline pounding throughout her body as fear finally made an obvious appearance.
"I am over one-hundred years old and I have never been so disappointed," he growled.
A single tear fell from her eye, "That doesn't make sense."
Santiago took a steadying breath, "I told you I was not a part of the police…and I am not, but I am part of a kind of police. My police force…is not human."
"Dio mio ... E'vero ... Vampiri," Alessandra gasped softly, and Santiago stared down at her in fierce shock.
"How do you know of my nature? Who else knows?" He questioned, shaking her shoulders slightly – the soldier inside of him was taking over and he had to blink repeatedly to clear the darkness that was beginning to cloud his sight.
"No-no one," she stammered, her heart beating out a staccato rhythm. "It's a myth…the common myth of the vampires of Volterra – it's something to scare the children with!"
Santiago let out a short hiss of breath, "If you are lying…"
"I'm not! I'm not!" She cried softly, covering her beautiful face with her hands.
He sighed, cursing the beast inside of him that he could not seem to be rid of – he had scared her, and he had wished to avoid that.
Santiago gently tugged at her fingers, urging Alessandra to remove her hands – as he pulled her hands away he was met with wide, frightened, and wet, dark eyes.
He would not apologise to her for doing his job, but he would try to achieve her trust.
"Alessandra," he breathed, "Hush. You are mine now."
She sighed shakily, "But you don't want me."
He furrowed his brow, "What do you mean?"
"You refused me."
He growled at the mention of her debasing seduction, "You insult yourself with such a disgusting proposition – your body is made for love, and nothing less."
Alessandra's eyes widened at his words and she breathed, "I've never…heard that before…"
Santiago growled softly, but this time the sound was not aimed at her, "You have never been shown love."
"My father was kind," she mumbled, and Santiago snorted derisively.
"Yes, the man who had you running drugs through Volterra."
Her face hardened, "He was kind. He may have had an illegal business, but it didn't make him evil."
Santiago gave Alessandra a pointed look, "You have known nothing of kindness and so you think he was kind." Her face softened as he spoke in his silky voice and the expression called to him – he moved closer to her, "You have known nothing of love and so you think your body was loved by being fucked. You're so…"
"Complicated?" She suggested with a small, sad smile.
Santiago did not answer – instead, he let his fingers trace imaginary swirls on her beautifully silky skin. She was so warm and fragrant beneath him – peaches and spring blossoms invaded his nostrils and he could not help lowering his head to the crook of her neck and inhaling deeply.
Santiago moaned softly as his fantasies began to come true, feeling Alessandra's body arch ever so slightly against his.
He knew that she was trying to get her way, trying to give him what she thought he wanted, but his mind was so clouded by her scent that he could do nothing but continue.
His hands grasped her hips, his fingers spreading over her skin and bones to feel her warmth and the blood pounding beneath her flesh – her heart began to beat harder as he pressed his mouth to the pulse-point in her neck.
"I will show you," he breathed against her elegantly curled collarbone, dropping a gentle kiss onto it. "I will show you true love, and you will never be the same again."
Of that, he was certain.
Her hands gripped his shoulders as he straddled her, kissing his way down her swan-like throat with gentle nuzzles and nips – she arched and sighed, the noises sounding forced.
Santiago frowned, kissing her skin even more softly and urging her to meet him halfway.
As one of his hands dipped down to caress the outside of her thigh under her dress, she gave a true moan – it made him smirk victoriously, knowing that she was really moaning for him.
"I have waited so long…" Santiago breathed.
Alessandra did not reply, but instead pulled his face to hers with little to no force – her touch was light, airy, like it did not even exist, and it displeased Santiago.
He was determined to have all of her.
Santiago's hand slid over the top of her thigh, so he could ever so slowly drag it up the inside – her fingers tightened their grip involuntarily, and she arched her body again more forcefully.
He growled happily, his other hand tugging at her panties – soon she was only before him in her white, crumpled dress.
Even fallen, she was still his angel.
"Santiago," she whimpered – her voice was needy and full of unfulfilled lust.
"Sí, mi ángel," he breathed in reply. "Again."
"Santiago," she moaned, far more clearly.
Her hands ran down his muscled back, making him shiver in pleasure, and then around his waist to his zipper – her fingers unfastened his trousers with swift dexterity and tugged at them fiercely.
"Yes," he murmured. "Alessandra."
Alessandra shivered as her name rolled off his tongue, arching her hips to grind against his aching hardness…
Santiago stopped – his mind had unclouded for a brief moment, and it was enough for him to stop what they were doing.
He growled at himself, fiercely pulling his hands and hard body from her inviting embrace, "No… No… Not now. Stop…"
He was pleading with the animal inside of him that demanded its release.
It knew Alessandra, his fantasy love, was before him and was so willing to receive him – it took all Santiago's strength to move off of the bed and deny himself the pleasure her body would bring him.
Alessandra looked up at him with wide and beseeching eyes, "Santiago? Where are you going?"
"We must not do this – not now, not here," he said in a rush, lifting the bed sheet and covering the temptingly bare lower-half of her body.
Her dark eyes flicked away as her face coloured with hurt – she nodded, letting her long, dark curls fall over her face.
Santiago sighed and turned to look out of the window, "Alessandra, you are my pet, but I will not be another man who takes from you without a care." He turned back to her, "I want to care."
She let out a rough sob, pulling her leg up under the sheet to rest her elbow against it and hold her head in her hand.
"I'm so confused," she breathed. "You are part of some kind of…supernatural police force, and now I am your pet…but you don't treat me like I am…"
"I will not abuse you," he said firmly. "I will care for you, and I alone – others will not understand, so do not speak of it. One day you may be rid of this place, but it is more than likely that you will end your days here."
He was blunt, but he was honest – her sparkling eyes and open expression told him that she appreciated his truthfulness, no matter how much it hurt.
She broke the tension with a strained laugh, "I've known you for so little time, and now I'm going to be with you for the rest of my life – it's ridiculous."
"So many things in life are," Santiago replied, a small smile curving his lips.
Alessandra nodded to herself after a moment, seeming to come to some sort of inner conclusion, "I'll be fine. I've dealt with worse."
He tried not to wince or growl, or to show any kind of reaction to the thought of the treatment she had been given previously in her padre's line of work.
Alessandra rubbed her forehead, muttering softly, "Headache…"
Santiago smiled, fixing his zipper and grasping his black button-down shirt, "I shall find you some medicine."
She looked up in surprise, before giving him a broad and genuine smile, "Thank you."
Santiago gestured to the fruit and water still by the side of the bed, "Eat, drink and rest. I will be back momentarily."
He took his leave, locking the door once again and then swiftly striding along the corridors of the castle in search of Gianna – he found her at the reception area, answering a few telephone calls. She was all too happy to pass along some aspirin, with a message for Alessandra to find her if she needed anything else.
Santiago was reluctant to take Gianna up on her offer, and did not bother to explain to her the rules of Alessandra being his pet, but that did not mean that he did not appreciate Gianna's words – her sweetness comforted him, and he smiled as he left with the small bottle of aspirin, thinking that Felix had chosen well.
His mind was full of the woman lying in his bed – a day ago he could never have dreamed that his secreto would be with him soon enough, knowing as he did the consequences of being a pet, and even though the circumstances were terrible…a selfish part of him was extremely glad.
He could have her.
He could keep her.
He could–
A scream rent the air, shattering the silence that had previously dominated the castle's halls and corridors.
Santiago filled with dread at the particular tone of that tortured cry of pain.
His legs could not move fast enough, and he felt as though even the tiny pot of aspirin were holding him back from reaching his full speed in his need to get to Alessandra – he threw it away as coldness seeped through his body.
His breath came fast and heavy as he blurred along the corridors back to his room, but once he had reached his door his breathing halted completely.
The door was off its hinges, hanging onto the frame by almost nothing, so he could see his bed had been moved – it was before him, close to the door, with the headboard facing him splintered and battered.
A single, white hand was curved around the top of the wooden board, and it tightened and loosened sporadically…in time with the sound of liquid being roughly swallowed…
The sound of Alessandra's failing heartbeat was heavy in his ears, ringing dully as he ghosted forwards to see around the headboard.
Alessandra's arms and legs were spread wide as she was forcibly sprawled across his bed by the frame of Caius – Caius' mouth was latched onto Alessandra's beautiful throat, blood was spattered across her face and Santiago's simple pillow, and Caius' other hand was roaming down her vulnerable body…
The youngest Volturi brother was no fighter, and his senses were weak – Caius had no idea that Santiago had kneeled behind him and placed his teeth at his throat, until it was already too late and his revenge on Santiago for bedding his wife could not be completed.
Santiago sank his shining, venom-coated teeth into his master's flesh, and wrenched his head from his shoulders in one swift movement – the tear was clean, perfecto, and Caius' body slumped to the side and onto the floor with a dull thud.
He grasped Caius' head tightly in his hand by his long, snowy-blonde hair as he curved himself over Alessandra protectively – the wound to her throat gaped and spewed blood, sending it pitter-pattering over the pillow and sheets.
Santiago breathed in the scent of Alessandra's blood – it was rich, flavoured, and heady, but it did absolutely nothing for him, not like this.
His numbness ceased, the soldier façade dropped, and he let Caius' head fall from his hand to the floor.
Santiago grasped her deathly pale face in his hands as he gasped for air, "Alessandra? Mi secreto?"
Her lavender lids fluttered faintly, her almost-white lips parting imperceptibly as her heartbeat began to trail off.
"No," he growled. "Alessandra, answer me."
A breath shuddered through her body as her dark eyes opened – she coughed and spluttered, blood flecking her lips, before she regained some of control.
"Sa-sa-san…" She stammered.
Santiago made a soft crooning noise to comfort her, "I am here."
His eyes burned with venom – all those weeks of watching her, of loving her, of wishing and aching for her, and they were to end like this?
"No," he muttered against her soft, cold cheek. "Not like this."
He pulled back, pressing a firm kiss to her lips, "You have a choice."
Santiago's eyes ran over her throat, and he knew it would only a take a moment to seal her wound shut with his venom inside her – he could do it, he had to.
"Tell me what you want," he urged – he needed her to speak the words that could set both of them free from the chains, chains that he had been willing to bind both of them in only minutes before.
They had mere moments before the Guard, the Kings and a hysterical Queen would storm through the door and come across the blood-spattered scene and their fallen master, brother and husband.
This was the moment that Santiago's mamá had meant; this was the time where he would be just and great, and he would finally do the right thing – he would save the woman, who rightfully owned the ring around his neck, from her past and his, and they would vanish from the evil that he had wanted to cut himself from all his immortal life.
But it had to be her choice.
"I…love to…run…" Alessandra wheezed weakly, the corners of her mouth twitching upwards in a smile just for him, "…barefoot with…with the wind…rushing p-past me… I want…to run again."
It was enough.
More than enough.
Santiago kissed her mouth fiercely, before drawing back and letting his lips hover over the wound to her neck.
"You will," he breathed. "We'll run together."