Disclaimer: Both the characters and the story line do not belong to me.

Previously: Once I'd tasted her succulent blood, I was in heaven. It was the one thing that had been on my mind constantly since the first time I'd set eyes on her. It was impossible to count the amount of times I'd imagined what it would be like to kill her, to drain her lifeless body of the blood I longed for. I knew I had to stop, to save the life of the girl I loved, but I couldn't.

Eventually, I found the will and gave up. I had to let her live, if she didn't live then how could I? I couldn't, I would go to Italy, to the Volturi, and die.

Bella shook her head, she must have been remembering the scene of events, just as I had.

"Contingency plans?" she repeated.

"Well, I wasn't going to live without you. Remember? If you should ever leave me, well life would still go on, believe me. The world would show nothing to me, so what good would living do me?" I quoted, rolling my eyes as if it were obvious—it was obvious to me—still trying to keep the conversation light, without getting into the depths of the matter. "But I wasn't sure how to do it—I knew Emmett and Jasper would never help . . . so I was thinking maybe I would go to Italy and do something to provoke the Volturi."

I stared into the distance, focused. Bella was suddenly furious.

"What is a Volturi?" she demanded, her face screwed up in adorable perplexity.

"The Volturi are a family, a very old, very powerful family of our kind. They are the closest thing our world has to a royal family, I suppose. Carlisle lived with them briefly in his early years, in Italy, before he settled in America—do you remember the story?"

"Of course I remember."

I thought back to the first time I'd taken Bella to meet my family, to the big white mansion that was our home.

In Carlisle's office, I'd showed her the paintings that illustrated his personal history. The largest canvas there was from Carlisle's time in Italy. On the top balcony of the scene, overlooking the swirling mayhem of colour below, was a quartet of men, one of them being Carlisle; the other three, I pointed out to Bella, were Aro, Caius and Marcus, 'nighttime patrons of the arts'.

"Anyway, you don't irritate the Volturi," I carried on, not wanting to think about the three intimidating vampires any more than I had to. "Not unless you want to die—or whatever it is we do."

I looked at Bella, her anger turned to horror. She took my face in her hands and held it tightly—which wasn't all that tightly from my perspective.

"You must never, never, never think of anything like that again! No matter what might ever happen to me, you are not allowed to hurt yourself!"

"I'll never put you in danger again, so it's a moot point," I replied almost instantly, shrugging my shoulders as I spoke.

"Put me in danger! I thought we'd established that all the bad luck is my fault? How dare you even think like that?"

"What would you do, if the situation were reversed?" I inquired.

"That's not the same thing," she answered back, avoiding my gaze.

I chuckled.

"What if something did happen to you?" She turned the question back to me. "Would you want me to go off myself?"

I winced at her question. If anything did ever happen to me, I would want her to carry on as normal, forget about me, and not hurt; though she was so fragile . . .

"I guess I see your point . . . a little," I admitted. "But what would I do without you?"

"Whatever you were doing before I came along and complicated your existence."

I sighed. Anything I did before I met Bella—as sharp as my vision was—blended into one, big, blur. I couldn't go back to what I was doing, because I wasn't entirely sure I even remembered.

"You make that sound so easy," I breathed, shaking my head slightly.

"It should be. I'm not really that interesting."

I considered arguing back, then realised she would never admit to what I refrained from having said.

"Moot point," I reminded her.

My hearing picked up on a growling engine approaching.

Abruptly, I pulled us both up into sitting positions, so that we were no longer touching.

"Charlie?" She'd guessed correctly; I smiled.

A moment passed, and the familiar sound of the police cruiser cut off as Charlie parked in the driveway.

Bella reached out and took my hand, a split second before Charlie came through the door with a pizza box.

"Hey kids," he said, flashing a grin at Bella, "I thought you'd like a break from cooking and washing dishes for your birthday. Hungry?"

"Sure." Bella accepted the pizza with a smile. "Thanks, Dad."

I passed on the pizza, just as I always did when mealtimes came at Charlie's house, though he never commented on my lack of appetite. I'd always insisted that Esme would have my dinner waiting on the table when I returned home. But, of course, human food held no interest to me, or any of my family for that matter. We quenched our insatiable thirst with animal blood.

Once they had finished eating, I decided now was better than ever to inquire about Bella's activities tonight.

"Do you mind if I borrow Bella for the evening?" I asked, expectant.

Of course, I knew before he told me that he didn't mind.

"That's fine—the Mariners are playing the Sox tonight, so I won't be any kind of company . . . here."

He tossed the camera to Bella, his gift to her. Naturally, she didn't quite catch it, so I used my absurdly fast reflexes and quickly snagged it before any harm could be done.

"Nice save," he commented."If they're doing something fun at the Cullen's tonight, Bella, you should take some pictures. You know how your mother gets—she'll be wanting to see the pictures faster than you can take them."

"Good idea, Charlie," I said, handing Bella the camera. She quickly turned the lens on me and snapped the first picture.

"It works," she exclaimed, raising her eyebrows slightly, her tone of voice showed no traces of enthusiasm.

"That's good. Hey, say hi to Alice for me. She hasn't been over in a while."

"It's been three days, Dad," Bella reminded him.

Charlie seemed to show a keen interest in Alice, especially since she'd been there constantly helping Bella to shower and dress when she'd returned from the hospital in Phoenix. Obviously, Charlie would not want to be involved.

"I'll tell her."
"Okay, you kids have fun tonight."

I smiled, and gently took Bella's hand, heading towards the door. When we got to the truck, I opened the passenger door for her and this time she didn't argue. I knew she found it hard to find the secretive turning to the driveway, leading up to our house along the deserted, winding road—especially in the dark.

I drove north through Forks. I disliked driving the truck, since I had a thing about speed—we all did really—and the truck didn't. It groaned as I eased the pedal down and pushed the speedometer over fifty.

"Take it easy," she warned me. I seized the opportunity to do a spot of light persuading.

"You know what you would love? A nice little Audi coupe. Very quiet, lots of power . . ."

"There's nothing wrong with my truck. And speaking of expensive nonessentials, if you know what's good for you, you didn't spend any money on birthday presents."

"Not a dime," I said, keeping my eyes focused on the road, but a low chuckle escaped from between my lips. Of course, I'd gotten her a present . . . it just so happened, though, that it was completely invaluable . . .

"Good."

"Can you do me a favour?" I asked.

"That depends on what it is."

I sighed. "Bella, the last real birthday any of us had was Emmett in 1935. Cut us a little slack, and don't be too difficult tonight. They're all very excited."

She looked a little startled at first, but then succumbed to my plead.

"Fine, I'll behave."

"I probably should warn you . . ."

"Please do."

"When I say they're all excited . . . I do mean all of them." I wasn't too sure whether this one would go down well, I knew Rosalie made Bella nervous—she didn't exactly show any courtesy to her.

"Everyone?" she choked. "I thought Emmett and Rosalie were in Africa."

"Emmett wanted to be here."

"But . . . Rosalie?"

"I know, Bella. Don't worry, she'll be on her best behaviour."

She didn't reply to my assurance, but I knew in her head she'd be worrying. I thought it best to change the subject before the worry increased.

"So, if you won't let me get you the Audi, isn't there anything that you'd like for your birthday?" I didn't consider one of the possible answers that she could come out with.

"You know what I want."

I frowned, deeply. Maybe it wasn't best to change the subject from Rosalie. I'd rather her be worrying about my deceptive sister than her asking me for something I didn't want to give her. Or couldn't give her, well, not without killing her in the process, I was quite sure.

"Not tonight, Bella. Please."

"Well, maybe Alice will give me what I want."

A deep growl emanated from my mouth. "This isn't going to be your last birthday, Bella," I promised.

Her expression changed from knowing to outraged in a split second.

"That's not fair!"

We'd reached the end of the driveway and the house came into view. Alice had hung a line of glowing Japanese lanterns from the porch eaves and big bowls of pink roses lined the wide stairs up to the front doors.

Bella let out a moan, I took a few deep breaths to calm myself.

"This is a party," I reminded her. "Try to be a good sport."

"Sure."

I walked round to the passenger door, opened it and took her hand.

"I have a question."

I thought this conversation had ended, but clearly not. I waited cautiously.

"If I develop this film . . . will you show up in the picture?"

My laughter echoed in the wide, open space, relief an obvious emotion in my tone. That was a question I was not anticipating. I helped her out of the car and led her up the stairs, still laughing at the unexpected question. Everybody was waiting in the living room as we entered.

"Happy birthday, Bella!" my family roared, Emmett's booming voice the loudest of them all.

Bella blushed a deep pink and averted her gaze towards the floor. Alice had covered every flat surface with pink candles and dozens of crystal bowls filled with hundreds of roses. There was a table next to the piano, that held a pink birthday cake—courtesy of Esme—more roses, a stack of glass plates, and a small pile of silver-wrapped presents. I could tell already that she wasn't enjoying this. I wrapped my arm around her waist and kissed the top of her head, taking a deep breath and inhaling her luscious scent as I did so.

Carlisle and Esme stood closest to us. Esme hugged Bella and kissed her forehead, while Carlisle put an apologetic arm around her shoulders.

"Sorry about this, Bella," he stage-whispered. "We couldn't rein Alice in."

Rosalie and Emmett stood behind them. Rosalie had a blank expression on her face—at least she was being civilised and not scowling, like her usual self. Emmett was grinning, he thought of Bella as his little, fragile sister that needed protection from her big, strong brother, and he loved playing that part.

"You haven't changed at all," Emmett said, with a hint of disappointment in his voice. "I expected a perceptible difference, but here you are, red-faced just like always."

"Thanks a lot, Emmett." She blushed deeper.

Emmett let out a chuckle. "I have to step out for a second, don't do anything funny while I'm gone."

"I'll try."

Alice, who had been stood by the stairs with Jasper, let go of his hand and skipped towards us. Jazz smiled at Bella, but knew to keep his distance.

He didn't have quite as much experience as the rest of us yet, one slight thing and his control would be lost, so he tried to keep away from Bella, to avoid the scent as much as was possible.

"Time to open presents," Alice declared, leading Bella toward the table holding the cake and presents.

"Alice, I know I told you I didn't want anything—"

"But I didn't listen," she interrupted. "Open it."

Everybody watched in anticipation as she read the tag—which informed that it was from Emmett, Rosalie and Jasper—and then tore the paper off. She uncovered a box, which she then stared at blankly. After a few seconds, she opened the box, which was empty.

"Um . . . thanks."

Rosalie smiled broadly, then used her hand to cover her mouth. Jasper laughed. "It's a stereo for your truck, Emmett's installing it right now so that you can't return it."

I admired how Alice had thought ahead—or rather seen ahead—and found a way around Bella stubbornness.

"Thanks, Jasper, Rosalie." She grinned as she said it. I knew she'd be remembering my comments about her radio earlier in the afternoon, which I'd said as a setup. "Thanks, Emmett!" she called more loudly.

We all heard his laugh, drifting through the open door from her truck outside.

"Open mine and Edward's next," Alice said, holding a small, flat square that was our gift to Bella in her hands. She was clearly getting excited now, the build up was killing her.

Bella turned and glared at me.

"You promised."

Before I could answer, Emmett bounded through the door.

"Just in time!" He pushed in behind Jasper, who had ambled forward—closer than usual—from the stairs to get a good look.

"I didn't spend a dime," I reassured her. I brushed a tendril of soft, brown hair from her face gently.

She turned to Alice. "Give it to me."

Emmett chuckled.

She took the package, rolling her eyes at me as she stuck her finger under the edge of the paper and jerked it under the tape.

"Shoot," she muttered. The paper sliced her finger. A single drop of blood oozed from the tiny cut.

In that split second a lot of things happened. I was suddenly aware of Jasper's thoughts. At the sight and smell of Bella's spilt blood, his control had slipped—he was going to pounce.

"No!" I roared, and threw myself at Bella, flinging her back across the table. The cake, presents, flowers and plates scattered, and the table collapsed beneath our weight. We fell, and crashed on to the floor, I landed on top of Bella, and she in the mess of shattered crystal.

Jasper slammed into me and there was a deafening crash, like boulders in a rock slide. A deep, grisly, snarl was coming from Jasper, he tried to shove past me but I fought him off, until Emmett grabbed him from behind. Jasper continued to battle against Emmett's steel grip, his wild but empty eyes focused on Bella.

The realisation struck me like a bolt of lightning—Bella must have gotten hurt, she'd fallen into the glass—and deep red blood was now pulsing out of her arm.