Hello! I'm a little late this week, so I apologize for that. But this chapter is pretty long because I apparently have a lot to say, so I hope the length makes up for the delay, at least a little! Happy reading~~

Chapter Ten: Why Are All These Demons Treating Me As A Friend?

I've never had a close-knit family before, if you can believe it, and I'm not saying that to garner sympathy or some shit. My mother, Renee, always put herself first. Like, no joke. When I was younger, we'd always eat at the restaurants she enjoyed most (crappy Mexican food over slightly less crappy Italian food), and we'd always buy tickets for the films she liked best (Nicholas Sparks movie adaptations, Sex and the City…need I go on?). Never mind if they weren't age appropriate – she'd sneak me in and scar me with vivid depictions of sexual intercourse and inappropriate language.

It was no wonder I was such a trash-talker. Thank Renee for that character fault, I wanted to tell Jane.

My father, Charlie, was never home. He was always away on business, which, to this day, is a topic I know nothing about. Maybe he was some sort of financial analyst? A sales engineer? A logistician? Actually, no, scratch that last one. My father was smart (I guess?), but he would never win an award for Most Logical. Not ever. One time he kept a real orange in his leather suitcase for about a month because he said it would add a more authentic scent. A real orange. Make of that what you will.

Or maybe a management advisor? Hell, he could be Special Agent Money Launderer and I wouldn't know. I mean, he never took the time to explain his work to me. Actually, come to think of it, he never took the time to explain much of anything to me. Maybe that's why I was so dumb. While I was supposed to be studying for a test in science, he'd be in China brokering some sort of deal, and of course Renee was no help, so the studying I should've been doing was never done. While I was halfheartedly assembling a magazine collage for art class, he'd be on the opposite coast dealing with another employee scandal. But he was never where he was supposed to be, never helping where it mattered. He was never home. Real shitty of him, am I right?

It didn't hit me until Jane unofficially moved in that I was, in fact – and had been for some time – really lonely.

"Does it bother you?" Jane asked me one day at the end of August. We were outside, lying on a worn blue-and-orange-striped picnic blanket. I'd gathered some chips and dip and warmed up those cheesy Taquito sticks in the microwave so we'd have something to snack on. Well, not that Jane was especially hungry for that kind of thing, but I wanted to maintain the picnic aesthetic.

I shrugged in response. "I saw The Divorce coming weeks ahead of time. Besides, they'd never been all that close. Charlie would be in some other country living it up while Renee wasted time watching Friends and eyeing up all those college boys that the swim club down the street hires. That's the way it's been for as long as I can remember," I said matter-of-factly. "Seeing the two of them together in the same room was a rare thing, I can tell you that."

"But does it bother you?" Jane asked again, snatching the drippy Taquito stick out of my hand. I pouted, but she refused to give it back until I answered.

"Fine," I said, exasperated. "Yeah, it bothers me. Even though I feel like I barely know them, they're still my parents, right? Divorce hurts everyone. Now can I have that back?"

Jane extended her hand, and I grabbed the Taquito before she pulled it out of reach again.

"Did they ever try for more children?"

"I was more than enough for them," I said with a snort, and she dropped the subject. Nothing controversial there, though, because it was true – I'd been quite a handful when I was a youngster. Still was, in fact. (A handful, not a youngster. Although I guess that last label's debatable, depending on who you asked. Jane would say I'm still little more than a fetus, but at this point we all know that Jane's weird.)

Jane, in her dark cloak and enormous knockoff sunglasses purchased from the QuikMart, leaned back on her hands. For real, she was the queen of preening. The Preen Queen.

"Does the sunlight hurt you?" I asked curiously. She'd been existing – and by that I meant sneaking around the house when Renee was around, and living it up in my bedroom when she wasn't – with me now for about a week, and I'd yet to see her in the sunlight. She was always wearing that ancient, floor-sweeping cloak with the mysterious symbols along the hem. On the rare occasions she unbuttoned it, I only saw black clothing beneath. I'd only ever seen her skin exposed from the neck up. A total turn-off.

Of course, it's not like she was a stranger to me, despite this lack of bodily awareness. I knew she enjoyed action movies – the "Die Hard" and "Fast and Furious" franchises were two of her favorites for some reason – and loathed daytime TV. (If she ever saw Jerry Springer in person, she'd told me one blazing hot afternoon, she wouldn't hesitate to kick his throat in.) I knew she liked spending time in my bedroom because it "smelled" like me, and I knew she thought the people in Whittleston were boring and closeminded. Also incredibly unimpressive. "I've seen the same bland Hollister shirt on seven different people. SEVEN!" she exclaimed one time when we were walking down Main Street.

I'd seen her angry, thoughtful, curious, surprised, vaguely annoyed, confused, amused, and exasperated, but never had I caught even a glimpse of her body. (Maybe those two things don't relate, but they do in my mind. The exposure of skin is a different kind of vulnerability.) She wore a thick, black sweater under that robe-thing. And her pants were more like balloons than leggings or skinny jeans or any other type of pants that were normally considered clingy. This was pretty unfortunate for me.

Also, much to my ever-increasing dismay, I'd never had the privilege of seeing her truly shocked or – aside from the day she realized I was her soulmate – truly happy.

"No," she said finally, with a small smile. "The sun doesn't hurt me. If anything, you could say the sun draws attention to me."

I waited for her to explain, but no information was forthcoming.

"Umm… What exactly does the sun do to you, pray tell?" I asked.

She shuddered. "It makes me into a monster."

My eyebrows popped up. "Really?! How!?"

She barely muffled a laugh. "Not literally, mio dolce. Frankly, the sun turns me a little too…pretty."

I nearly bolted to my feet. "Well, now you have to show me! Too pretty? How is that even possible? You're already unearthly, you know, so I'm calling bullshit."

She shook her head, smiling. That smile did things to me. "Another day, Bella."

Now I did jump to my feet. "No, not fair! I want to see!"

Jane's head moved to the side, and I knew she wanted me to see something. I turned around and saw my mother's shadow flitting about the kitchen. She'd come home from food shopping. Or, rather, "buying booze and Hostess products" shopping.

I sighed and slumped to the ground. "Perfect timing as always, Renee."

Jane lightly touched a finger to my cheek. "As I said, another time."

Something to look forward to, I guess.

SEPTEMBER

August inevitably led to September, and we all know what September means – back to school. It was my senior year at Richardson High, but it didn't feel different from any other year. I had no friends, and I did as little work as possible while still maintaining decent grades. At lunch I sat by myself at a corner table, and during gym I kicked a deflated soccer ball around the dirty baseball diamond. It was more of a rectangle than anything, but who was I to judge. I'd failed shapes in kindergarten.

Jane had been living with me for nearly three weeks, and Renee had yet to notice that there was an additional person taking up residence in our house. I found this kinda funny. After all, what the hell kind of a mother wasn't aware that another person was using the bathroom and taking up all the available space on the DVR? A really selfish one, that's who. This was nothing new to me, of course.

"Doesn't your mother ever wonder who's in the shower when you're on the couch and she's in the kitchen?" Jane asked me on the second day of school. She was filled with questions lately. All the spare time she had while I was in school was getting to her.

"I'm not sure she even notices it," I said with a shrug. It was true. My mother was exceptionally oblivious.

Jane, wearing her cloak even though it was only seven in the morning, frowned and rose gracefully to her feet from the lip of the bathtub. "What do you think would happen if I, say, began cooking meatloaf in the oven and she walked in. Would she react?"

This gave me pause. I set down the brush I'd been yanking through my hair and stared at our reflections in the bathroom mirror. "No idea. She might be surprised, but then again she might just stare at you for a minute and then go about her day. She's unpredictable like that."

Jane exhaled slowly. "It's odd to me that you don't know your mother at all. It's as if the two of you revolve around one another. It's like you're strangers."

I'd never thought of it that way, but she was right. I didn't know Renee's favorite activity, besides dry-humping college-aged boys with tight abs. She liked romantic comedies and pizza, donuts, pastries, burgers – basically any food that was unhealthy – but not which type of each was her favorite. I didn't know when she'd met my dad, or even how. After all, they came from totally different circles. One was a notch above trailer trash, the other, a Stanford alumni.

By the time I woke up in the morning and made my way to the kitchen, Renee was pulling away from the curb to go to work. After school, I usually came home and locked myself in my room, and when Renee pulled up in the driveway shortly before six, neither of us would go out of our way to interact. That's the way it's always been. I was used to it.

"Did you have a good relationship with your parents?" I asked, needing to hear that I wasn't the only one who had a shitty relationship with their mom and dad.

"Considering it was over two millennia ago, it's hard to say with any accuracy," Jane replied, straightening a crease in my shirt. "Besides, they lived by different codes than the ones society has imposed on us now."

"True," I said, not really understanding what she meant but trusting that it was, in fact, true.

"I'm old enough now that I don't require parental figures," she added with a small smile. "Marcus sometimes treats me as if I'm seventeen, but Aro is always quick to correct him."

I turned toward her, and she rested both hands on my shoulders. Up close, she was even more flawless than I remembered from the last time. Then again, every time I looked at her I saw more perfection than before.

"Aro's never treated you like a child?" I asked curiously.

She shook her head. "No. Once he saw what I was capable of, he made it a point to treat me with as much respect as he does Caius and Marcus and my brother."

"I hope to one day see this mysteriously scary power of yours," I said with a grin. Even though it sounded intense, I knew Jane would never let her ability get out of control like I sometimes did with mine. Plus, she probably looked totally hot bringing people to their knees.

Jane's smile faded and her expression darkened. "And I hope you never have to see me in action." Her hands fell from my shoulders too, but I grabbed them before she retreated and folded myself into her embrace.

"Don't be mad," I said into the curve of her neck, regretting my words. "I'm sorry for bringing it up. I know your power is a sore spot."

"I could never be angry with you, Bella," she said softly. "I wish my ability was different, that is all. Not so terrifying." Her arms tightened around me.

"Well, I trust that you'll always have my back, at least. With an ability like that, nothing bad can happen to you."

"Nor you," she reminded me, and I squeezed her close, unwilling to be parted from her for a full seven hours. Fuck school, you know? But also…I really had to go. Sigh.

On our small front porch, I held Jane's hand between both of mine and pouted. "Why does the school day have to be so dang long?"

"Quit your whining!" she commanded with a laugh. The sound was so rare and so startling that I stared at her, open-mouthed. "Seven hours is nothing. Now, if you had to be gone for seven hundred years, that would be a problem."

I considered this. "Lucky for the both of us, the school board isn't that malicious."

"Lucky for the both of us, I have the power to sway them away from such a decision even if they were."

Grinning, I kissed Jane's cheek and raced down the driveway before the school bus left without me. When I glanced over my shoulder, I could see her watching me through the glass front door, so I waved.

She waved back.

OCTOBER

We were watching a movie on the Lifetime channel – "How to Lose A Man in 10 Days," if you're interested, and which was pretty ironic if you ask me, considering there were no men in my life, and didn't that say something? – early on a chilly Saturday afternoon, Jane in her usual black cloak, me in a t-shirt and hole-ridden jeans, when the phone rang.

The landline was located in the kitchen, and since Renee wasn't home because she was attending an engagement party or a bridal shower or maybe a baby shower (honestly, I'd tuned out her explanation), the phone would keep ringing unless the other person hung up….or unless I answered.

Resigned, I groaned and reluctantly extricated myself from Jane's arms. Rising from the couch, I nearly tripped over nothing but air – notoriously clumsy, that's me – on my way to the kitchen.

"Is there any way to pause it?" I called.

"Um, no, I do not believe so. It's live on Lifetime, not a recording."

Grumbling under my breath (I'd really wanted to see what happened between the genius redneck boy and the pretentious city girl), I grabbed for the phone before it rang one more time. For whatever reason, the sound of a phone ringing, especially ringing endlessly, tortured me. It reminded me of hell. Not that I'd ever been there, of course, but my imagination gave me a pretty good idea of what it would be like. For one, there would be way too many hotdog vendors.

"Hello?" I barked, annoyed now at this disruption.

When only silence and static reigned, I sighed and said again, louder, "HELLO?"

More static, and then – "Hello? Is this thing on?"

I rolled my eyes. (One reason I loved the phone – I could roll my eyes as much as I pleased without worrying about the other person's reaction.) "Of course it's on. The phone is always on. Isn't it?"

"I do not know," the mystery voice said. Except it sounded strangely familiar. "Regardless, may I ask who this is?"

"May you ask, how about may I ask? You're the one who called me, remember?" Glancing over my shoulder, I tried to see if Jane had somehow miraculously managed to pause the movie. But no such luck. I could see the changing scenes reflected on the glass coffee table.

"I hope this is Isabella Swan, otherwise this will be awkward. These phones are much more trouble than they're worth, I will have you know." The voice was very huffy, and a small alarm rang faintly in the back of my mind.

"Yes, this is Bella Swan. Who are you?" Despite myself, I started shivering. Because I had a pretty clear idea now. Because Jane had promised me, and I didn't want to prove her a liar.

"This is Aro Volturi, calling from Volterra, Italy."

I almost puked. In fact, I gagged loudly into the receiver.

"– I do hope they won't send me a large bill for these international calls," Aro was saying, "but I distinctly remember Marcus telling me about –"

By this point Jane was at my side, eyes wide and imploring. I was gasping and trying really hard to keep myself together, which was a difficult situation. I held the receiver as far away from my mouth as I could without actually letting go, and now Jane was reaching for it – slowly, so I had time to refuse. But I didn't know what to do. Aro of the Volturi coven was calling here?

Wait a second –

I yanked the receiver back to my mouth. "How did you get this number?"

Aro chuckled. "The phone book, my dear. Your generation has forgotten about it, which is a shame. It's quite a marvelous invention."

I blinked rapidly, noticing out of the corner of my eye Jane's unnatural stillness. She'd heard Aro's voice.

"Well, uh, what can I help you with?" I asked, not knowing how to react because Jane wasn't telling me what to do. This was her family slash coven slash Master, after all.

"Oh, you know, just checking in with my favorite new member," he said with a genuine laugh. "I have to admit, I've become terribly fond of you, Isabella."

This struck me as extremely peculiar. I mean, I'd met him once for all of twenty minutes, and he hadn't touched me with his ability, so how could he possibly be fond of me?

"And w-why is that?" Goshdarnit, my voice needed to get its shit together.

"The woman who is soulmate to Jane Volturi must be a fearsome individual indeed," he said, and I sensed some strange undertone in his voice. Like he was…not suspicious, exactly, but weary. Or maybe curious. Or maybe I was imagining things again. (I've been known to do that.)

I swallowed, still not knowing what to say to this man. Jane was still frozen, but I could see in her eyes that she was thinking furiously. I hoped it was something helpful here because I was running out of small talk.

"Uh, well, I wouldn't say I'm fearsome, you know, but I can make a mean omelette," I told him, and cringed so hard I thought the left half of my face would break. What a stupid thing to say! I mean, really, Isabella? Of all the useless skills to mention…and to the fiercest vampire in the world. Oh, bravo.

"My, oh my, I haven't had an omelette in years, my dear! But the tastes, the intermingling flavors, the pure sensation of such a meal…delizioso!" Aro crowed, and I have to admit that I was quite taken aback by this response.

I laughed nervously. "Um, uh, do you, uh, do you want to talk to Jane?"

That snapped her out of her funk. Jane's head whipped in my direction, and she stared at me incredulously.

What? I wanted to yell. He's related to you, not me, and I have no idea what we're even talking about at this point!

Instead, I said, "She's right here," which, judging by the look in Jane's eyes, might have ensured an immediate death sentence.

But Aro only laughed. "No, no, dear, I called to talk with you. I'm sure Jane is overwhelmed with emotion right now after not hearing from me for a month! Yet another month in a long line of endless months, I might add. I do wish she'd visit more often, of course, but I completely understand her commitment to you. It's admirable. In fact –"

Aro broke away from the receiver, his tone hushed. I peeked at Jane, who still looked in the throes of a deep concentration of which I had no way of interpreting. A little help here? I mouthed, but she ignored me, which I found rude.

"My sincerest apologies, Isabella dear, I –"

"Talk to him," I hissed, panic crawling up my throat. Aro made me nervous in a really uncomfortable way that was hard to explain.

"I didn't quite catch that. Isabella?" Aro prompted when I didn't respond. Mortified, I stared at Jane, waiting for her cue.

She shook her head once.

In an effort to keep my panic at bay, I did what I usually do best. Ramble.

"I'm sure the international charges won't be much, if they're anything at all. Besides, can't you just scare the bill collectors? Tell them not to charge you or you'll rip their throats out? But wait," I said, startled by a new thought, "how can they charge you? Like, do people even know you live in that stone fortress? And if they do, who do they think you are? I mean, you feed on people, right, so how do you keep yourselves secret when humans go in but never come out again?" I laughed, wincing at the shrillness. "That's so tricky, isn't it? A tricky situation. It probably takes some brilliant maneuvering, am I right?"

Finally, I ran out of breath. Jane was staring at me like she'd just seen a vampire hunter covered in garlic. Were those stereotypes? I couldn't remember which myths she'd debunked.

"Isabella, dear," Aro said slowly, as if to a frightened animal, "there's no need for you to be alarmed. This was just a courtesy call. You are well, yes?"

I swallowed, my throat clicking. "Y-yes, I'm really well. Super well, in fact."

"Yes, yes, and Jane?"

"She's…" I trailed off, distracted once again by Jane's presence. She'd placed her hand on my arm to still my shivering. "She's fine. Jane is fine, too."

"Very well. Tell her I wish she'd visit more often, will you?"

"No worries, I'll let her know," I said weakly.

"Wonderful. I do hope to see you soon, Isabella. Very soon," he added, and I couldn't help but hear a warning in his tone.

"Um, okay, y-yes," I stuttered, dying to end the call now. My quota for small talk had been met eons ago, let me tell you.

"In that case, ciao!" Aro chirped, and abruptly hung up.

I carefully placed the phone in its cradle and inhaled deeply.

"What…the…hell."

Jane's eyebrow quirked.

"WHY DIDN'T YOU WANT TO TALK TO HIM!" I yelled, my face heating.

She shrugged. "He's a nuisance."

"HE'S LIKE YOUR FATHER! YOUR FATHER, NOT MINE!"

"Need I remind you, Bella, he's not related to me."

"Yes," I said haughtily, arms crossed, "I'm well aware of that, thanks. But it was clearly awkward, and I obviously had no idea what to say to this man I've met all of one time. Not to mention he creeps me out!" I strode away from the counter and back into the living room. Then, to the world at large: "WHY ARE ALL THESE DEMONS TREATING ME AS A FRIEND?"

"Bella –" Jane sounded exasperated, which only added to my anger.

"Yeah, I know, neither of you are really demons, but with those big red eyes you both play pretty convincing ones!" I shook my head to get my thoughts back in order. "I have no idea why you refused to talk to him, but I'm not doing that again. I have nothing to say to him, even though he clearly had a lot to say to me for some reason." I sighed, plopping down on the sofa. "Every time Aro talks to me, I get the feeling he wishes I was a vampire. Like, he wishes there was a way to turn me from across the ocean."

Jane sat down on the edge of the cushion next to me. "I apologize."

Startled, I peeked at her out of the corner of my eye. Her head was hanging, her brilliant blonde hair cascading around her face like a heavenly waterfall. I sighed again, knowing I couldn't stay mad at her. More than anything, I was just…confused.

"You don't need to apologize," I said, wrapping both my arms around her arm. I breathed in her cold scent. "I just wish you'd talked to him instead of me. Reassured him more, maybe. I got the feeling he didn't really believe me. Or he was prying and didn't like what he found out."

"That is likely the truth," she said, leaning her head against mine. "His motives are often inscrutable. Aro himself is unreadable, which is ironic and frustrating since he can see what is going on inside everyone else's minds. He is very intelligent," she added, "so do not underestimate him. He has perfected that distracted, old-man vibe, as you would say."

I could feel her smile against my cheek, and so of course I had to smile too. Her smiles were contagious. "He does seem really spaced out."

"That's part of his brilliance. That façade of absentmindedness. Next time he calls –"

I snorted. "Next time? We better hope not."

"Oh, there will be, no doubt about that. Aro is nothing if not persistent."

"Wonderful," I said, mimicking Aro's cheerful high-pitched voice.

"Next time he calls, give me the phone. I do not want him talking to you again, either. It was a mistake to let him this time."

I tilted my head, curious. "Oh? Why?"

She shifted a little. "The way he said your name. Isabella," she drawled, and goosebumps immediately rose on my arms.

"Well, you've got that down," I said with a nervous laugh.

"I want to keep you far away from him and all the rest," she added, brows creased. "That is why we're here in Arizona, after all. Makes it difficult for him to track us down."

"What do you mean? He clearly knows where we are."

"Of course. But Arizona is sunny." She paused (a little dramatically, I thought). "And as I said before, the sun... It draws attention to us. Unwanted attention. Aro would not risk being exposed, even if it meant obtaining you in his Guard."

I shook my head, bewildered. All this stuff Jane was saying… It sounded a lot more involved than I ever imagined. These were problems I'd never known existed. I still didn't even understand what the sun did to vampires, besides make them "pretty." Whatever the hell that meant.

"He's not going to take me, not if you can help it," I said finally. Snuggling into her coolness, I leaned my head on her shoulder and closed my eyes, breathing her in. She smelled like a cool rainfall. Like ice cubes. Like safety.

"No one will ever take you away from me," Jane said, and if I wasn't mistaken, there was a growl in her voice. "They would have to kill me first."

"Which is impossible."

"Very much so," she said, and now I could hear the smile in her voice again.

We stayed like that on the couch, pressed together in the near-darkness, until Renee came home. Even then, we didn't move, not when she bypassed our shadowy figures in the living room and grabbed a beer from the fridge. Her bedroom door slammed closed a minute later. No "hello," no "how ya doing," no nothing.

But for once, I really didn't give a damn.

Feedback is appreciated! I only have one more chapter written because I haven't been in the mood to write lately, so I'm a little behind. There will be 15 chapters in all, so depending on how fast I can get the last few chapters written (it may be an additional few weeks), I may upload them all at once! We'll see. Hopefully it won't take that long. I hope you enjoyed this latest installment anyway! Until next week~~