AN: Sorry this is a day late. But there's a lot to unpack in this chapter.
CHAPTER NINE: EXPERIMENTATION
…
Though the rest of them had given up the traditional diet of vampires
just as absolutely as Carlisle had,
he was the only one who could bear the smell of my blood
without suffering from the intense temptation.
Clearly this was much more difficult than he made it seem
- Bella, New Moon, Chapter 2
…
Aro skipped ahead to the next day. And this time he and Carlisle were convened in an unfamiliar room. It was reasonably large and built with huge, grey stones, rather than the much smaller, sienna bricks I was used to seeing in the Volturi fortress. And I guessed it must have been somewhere in the catacombs underneath the main level—for the walls smelled moist, like the tunnels I'd come in through.
But the room itself had been tidied up so well it was hard to tell. There wasn't a trace of water or dust anywhere. And even the candelabras which brought some much needed illumination to this dark, musty place, seemed relatively free of stray wax.
As Aro's eyes took everything in, I realized the room wasn't empty. Twelve narrow cots with clean, snugly fitting sheets, lined both walls, their wrought-iron bedframes gleaming dully in the orange light. And on every cot, except for two empty ones on the left side, was one of the humans I'd seen the day before.
Or at least, they had been humans. I wasn't sure they counted as human anymore. Their hearts were still pounding thunderously. And the smell of human blood was still strong with them. But each one had an identical, crescent-shaped bite-mark on their left wrist—most of which looked very fresh. And they were all writhing, and several shrieking in obvious agony, atop their immaculate sheets.
In short, they were all in the process of turning into vampires.
While the humans screamed, Aro floated slowly down the aisle between the beds, examining with interest how his test subjects were developing. He'd separated the party by sex—the males on his right, and the females on his left. And as he passed each one, he thought of their names, of their ages and nationalities, and of the powers Eleazar had detected in them.
The males were:
Heinrich, Age 35, German. Power: Mental distraction.
Lomasi, Age 27, South American. Power: Emotional Manipulation—but only with anger.
Mel, Age: 31, Greek. Power: Gift Transference.
Afton, Age 19, Swedish. Power: Personal Invisibility.
Zain, Age 42, African. Power: Physical shield.
Chen, Age 19, Chinese. Power: Teleportation.
And the females were:
Kalifa. Age 15, African. Power: Creates Shockwaves.
Yvonne, Age 21, Swedish. Power: Temperature Manipulation.
Ting, Age 17, Chinese. Power: Telekinesis.
Vera, Age 23, German. Power: Healing.
As Aro passed the cots, I was surprised to recognize two of the faces. Both Vera and Afton had been part of the crowd of Volturi convened in the present—meaning that they had managed to stay a part of the coven for over three hundred years. But the rest were unfamiliar to me. And I wondered what that meant.
Knowing Aro's penchant for collecting formidable powers, I found it hard to understand. Why would Aro discard something as cool as telekinesis? Or teleportation? Did he decide, after they were transformed, that their powers really were not all they had been cracked up to be, and kick them out? Was it possible that Eleazar had been wrong?
I doubted that. So it just didn't make sense. And as Aro passed down the aisle between the cots one more time, I decided there must be something I was missing. Something that I probably wasn't going to like when I found out.
…
It took three days for the humans-turned-vampire to finish screaming. Then, Aro had Carmen and Didyme join the group, taking the two empty cots on the left side. And the experiment officially began.
Aro had set a tentative time-limit on the project, of 1 year. In part, this limit made Carlisle happy, because he had only run into an issue himself sixty-years down the line. But it also made him sad because it wasn't much time to prove anything. Though Aro assured Carlisle that the limit was up for debate when that year was completed. He simply did not want to promise too much just yet.
The consequences of that, Aro feared, could be disastrous.
Whatever the case was—whether Carlisle could convince Aro to give him an extension after that one year or not—during that time, all participants of the experiment were going to be fed animal blood. And all the while the twelve would be measured against their human-drinking peers, to see what ill-effects, if any, they suffered from.
It was a sound enough plan. Though at first, I thought there were some obvious flaws in the set-up.
Initially, Aro had insisted that the test subjects be free to roam the castle at their leisure. He didn't want them to feel like prisoners, after all.
But I wasn't sure that was such a good idea with Aro's human secretaries milling about… The newly turned vampires, were going to get thirsty, after all….
And to my horror, they quickly proved me right. Vera, in her hunger, devoured one of Aro's secretaries at the first opportunity. And while I was reeling from the violence, Aro became worried that this would tamper with Carlisle's test results. So, on that first day, he established a rule that the newborns had to be accompanied by an escort at all times to ensure that they only drank animal blood. And they were expected to report back to the room filled with cots for examination every night.
With these parameters set, and no ensuing "accidents", Aro gave Carlisle full-charge over the experiment. And for the next few weeks, he left him in the catacombs to his own devices.
For now, it seemed, he was more interested in exploring the potential powers Eleazar had promised him.
…
As it so happened, all of the powers Eleazar had predicted manifested in the newborn vampires. There were no "duds" or "mistakes". And Aro was even more surprised to find that only two were disappointments.
Heinrich—a grizzled, middle-aged German fisherman, with a salt-and-pepper beard—was the second biggest disappointment. His ability to disrupt and scatter thoughts wasn't something he could really control. Instead, everyone who got near him was effected. Which was more irritating and distracting than useful.
And Afton—a skinny Swedish kid with short, white-blonde hair—was almost completely useless. He could only make himself invisible. And even then, the illusion only really worked when he was only being observed by humans. Vampire vision was too sharp not to notice the little artifacts of light that bent around him. Even if Afton held perfectly still.
In fact Afton's power was so worthless that Aro was ready to dismiss him right off the bat—before the experiment was even finished. But to Aro's supreme chagrin, Chelsea took a liking to him rather quickly. Not two days after his immortalization, she begged Aro to let him stay so she could court him. And so Aro, despite his reluctance to entertain useless members, allowed the boy to stay.
Chelsea after all, got whatever she wanted. Her role in the Volturi was too crucial to allow her to become disaffected.
But the other eight vampires were a resounding success. Aro called them into the turret room, one at a time to test their powers on criminals, the same way he and Carlisle had once done. And was very impressed with the results.
Lomasi—a lean, sinewy fellow, with long, straight black hair, and skin the same color as Jacob's, though leached of life—was called in first. And while the emotional range he could manipulate was limited, he could do a lot within that range. He could incite a maddening rage in others. A rage that would cause them to lose all capacity for rational thinking. Something Aro thought might be useful in incapacitating the enemy in battle.
Mel was up next. Next to Lomasi's lean muscle, he was kind of scrawny. And his chalky skin and pale, curly brown hair, made him look a bit nervous and washed out.
But he could, with a single touch, steal a gift and give it to someone else. Something Aro thought would be especially useful if a powerful vampire were ever to commit a heinous crime. Then Aro would not have to mourn the loss of their gift. He could simply take it and give it to someone more worthy.
Zain came third. He was the most physically imposing. A wall of towering, thick muscle. With a shaved head. African features. And skin that still carried most of its former darkness, but like Lomasi's was leached of warmth, making it almost more dark grey than brown.
And he had a particularly useful defensive power. He could protect against the effects of physical gifts—including those that messed with your emotions. Though he was not immune to Jane's powers, which only created the illusion of pain in one's mind.
But Aro would take it.
Kalifa, the first of the females to be tested, was the same dusty dark as Zain. Though she wore hair in long, neat, dreadlocks. And was only half as tall.
When Aro called her in, she nearly blasted the entire turret room apart with the force of her gift. She clapped her hands together once, And the entire fortress shook from its foundations. A very useful gift.
Yvonne—another Swedish blonde—had somehow managed to make the turret room cold enough to make Aro shiver, which was impressive since vampires didn't usually get cold. And then she'd made it hot enough to singe his eyebrows—something Aro thought could be used to incinerate rouge vampires from a distance.
Chen—a lanky Chinese young man with short, untidy black hair—was the last of the men to be tested. He had to be able to see where he was going to teleport. But that appeared to be his only limitation. He could flit around the room, appearing and disappearing at random, with no required cool-down time between "jumps". And no discernable maximum distance, except for the limitations imposed by his line of sight. A power that would make his capture and destruction almost impossible.
And Ting—Chen's plucky younger sister—could lift enormous boulders with only her mind. And then drop them suddenly on her enemies. Which was delightful to witness. And very useful in combat.
Then Vera…
…Why, Aro was inclined to believe she had the most impressive power of them all.
Rather than having her test her gift on criminals, he'd asked Caius to be his guinea pig again. And though the white-haired vampire had been extremely reluctant, when he'd heard what Aro was suggesting, he immediately changed his tone.
"You think she may be able to restore my arm?" Caius said with an uncharacteristic lilt of hopefulness.
"I am not certain what the range of her abilities are yet," Aro confessed. "Eleazar only said that her gift was 'healing'. But we should at least give it a shot. If it is possible, wouldn't you like to have your right arm back?"
Caius nodded very enthusiastically, and offered Aro his left hand—knowing Aro would want to hold it so he could see his thoughts.
"Then let's get to it, shall we?" Aro suggested, happily taking his brother's offered appendage. "Vera?"
His gaze turned away from his brother then and landed on a familiar woman. I'd seen her once before, enmeshed in the crowd of vampires in the present. But now was the first time I was really noticing her as an individual, apart from the sea of equally gorgeous persons.
She wasn't anything exceptional to look at—as far as vampire women went. I mean, she was gorgeous, of course. But she was of average height, perhaps an inch or two taller than me. She wasn't flat and bony like Athenodora, or curvaceous like Rosalie or Heidi—a staid, middle ground. And, her ensemble wasn't very daring either. She wore a plain, long black dress—something a peasant girl might wear to a funeral—which ghosted just a hair's breadth above the chalky floor.
The only thing of note about Vera really was her hair. It was a deep brunette—the color of dark chocolate. And it fell perfectly straight to an astonishing length past her knees.
I spent a few moments, while Aro waited for her to turn, gawking at it. I knew lots of girls back in Forks who would kill for hair like that.
But she didn't turn to look at us right away. Her eyes, which were still crimson from her recent feed, were fixated longingly on the exit. And her mind was clearly elsewhere.
"Vera?" Aro addressed her again, raising his voice ever so slightly.
Vera's eyes finally flickered to meet his. "Yes, Master?"
"I want to see if you can heal Caius' arm. If you would please step forward?" He requested, beckoning her with a hooked, white finger.
Vera regarded Aro with a look of evident bewilderment. But she knew better than to question him. Instead, she floated forward silently, until she was only a few inches away from the pair of older vampires. And then patiently awaited further instruction.
"Now Caius, if you would please."
Aro gestured toward the empty robe sleeve gently fluttering in the breeze at his brother's side. And with that one simple movement, Caius understood. Using his teeth—since his left arm was occupied—he pulled back the inky black sleeve to bare his injury.
But when he did, I struggled not to scream. A short, jagged stump protruded from his shoulder. And unlike other amputees I'd seen, the injury did not appear to have gotten any better looking in the intervening years since it had been inflicted.
It wasn't openly oozing fluids. But that was about the only good thing that could be said about it.
My best guess was that a vampire had bitten off his arm. The edges of the injury were ragged with indentations that looked remarkably like teeth marks. And there was a familiar silvery sheen along edges—the same sheen the scar James had given me had. But there was one pretty crucial fact that cast doubt on that theory.
The bite marks weren't quite right. Instead of near-perfect crescents, there were deeper indents near where the canines were. Deeper indents that reminded more me of animal bites than any inflicted by humans or vampires. And I roiled with horror at the idea that there was something else out there—an animal of some kind, besides the werewolves in La Push—that had teeth strong enough to rip off the limb of a vampire.
Was this what Aro had meant when he'd said a "Child of the Moon" was responsible? That there was some other kind of supernatural creature out there that could bite off vampire's arms?
The prospect seemed too likely to be comforting. And, at once, I wondered what else about the supernatural world I didn't understand.
The world seemed full enough with werewolves and vampires. But if Hollywood had taught me anything, it was that either only one myth was true, or all of them were. So if there were vampires and werewolves, why should it surprise me that there was more?
While I struggled to take this in, Vera too, had a similar reaction to mine when she saw Caius' arm. She gasped in horrified disbelief.
But all it took was one icy glare from Caius. And her perfect, pouty lips snapped firmly shut.
"Now Vera," Aro instructed in a low, smooth voice. "I want you to reach out and touch Caius' injury."
Vera looked uncertainly at Caius for approval. And to my surprise, he gave it to her in the form of a curt nod.
Seeing this, Vera slowly extended her hand and splayed her fingers around the marred flesh of his stump. Then looked expectantly at Aro again, clear nervousness radiating from her body.
Aro stifled a chuckle at the sight. Nervous newborns were adorable.
"Now try to imagine his arm as whole again. Picture it in your mind," he instructed calmly.
Vera's dubious expression grew more profound for a moment. But unlike me, she wasn't inclined to question. Instead, she simply closed her eyes, and did as she was told. And while she concentrated, something happened.
But it wasn't what either Aro or I had been expecting.
Suddenly, Caius let out a bloodcurdling scream.
At the very moment her hand made contact with his skin, a shock of agony rippled through his arm. It was intense—almost as painful as the thirst in Carlisle's memories. But as the pain traveled upwards, we realized it wasn't without purpose. We felt Caius skin, muscles and bones stretching—which had to be the source of the pain. And though the sensation was sickening, it didn't take long to figure out what was going on.
Caius' arm was slowly growing back.
As Caius screamed, Vera almost pulled back, worried she was doing something wrong.
But Aro shouted at her, "No! Keep going! It's working!"
That seemed to rivet her in place.
And after a moment, she was glad she had listened. Because it was then that we started to see the fruit of her labors. The muscles grew out of Caius' stump first, stretching and pulling like a strange, meat tentacle until they approximated the shape of a fully-grown hand. Then his skin flowed over the muscle next, creating a flawless marble exterior. Then there was a sickening pop as his bones finished growing back.
And then the pain was gone as suddenly as it came.
Caius stopped howling then. And Vera, seeing that Caius had recovered his senses, slowly retracted her hand from his fully-grown arm. Then she looked up at Aro with eyes seeking approval.
And Aro gladly gave it to her. "Miraculous!" he cried, delighted, staring raptly at Caius' new right arm.
Vera had healed him. Completely.
Caius, who was still struggling to process what was happening, twisted his new arm around experimentally. And as he did so, his snowy eyebrows rose higher and higher in wonderment.
"You did it," he whispered in disbelief, clenching and unclenching his new fingers. "My arm… it has returned!"
So that was why Caius had his arm in the present, I realized. Incredible.
…
"It has been a month since we began this experiment. So tell me, dearest Carlisle, how are our dear brothers and sisters doing?" Aro asked.
They were convened again in the grey-stone room in the catacombs—the room filled with cots. And Aro was eager to discuss the progress of their experiment.
"Not as well as I had hoped," Carlisle admitted, averting his eyes in obvious self-dissatisfaction.
I felt Aro's eyes widen incredulously at Carlisle's confession. He hadn't expected Carlisle to admit this so early. And suddenly he was very curious to know what had happened.
"May I see?" Aro asked, already reaching for one of Carlisle's hands.
Carlisle didn't look too eager to share what he had discovered. But he also displayed absolutely no resistance to Aro's encroaching hand. So Aro decided to go ahead and make contact. And as his fingers entwined with Carlisle's, I watched, dazzled, as Carlisle's vivid memories of the past month danced before our eyes.
It was just as disorienting as always. But while we looked over his recent memories, one recurring event stood out from the rest. Over and over again, we saw images of all twelve of Carlisle's test subjects violently vomiting up the animal blood he had offered them.
As we perused his memories, we learned that it did not matter which animal species the blood had come from. Nor the apparent intensity of the subject's thirst. Carlisle had tested every possible variable in an effort to find something that Carmen, Didyme and the newborns could swallow. But thus far, he'd had no success.
Not a single vampire had been able to choke down more than a few spoonfuls of the foul substance.
"Fascinating," Aro breathed in awe.
He gradually released Carlisle's hand. Then floated back slowly.
"I understand that they must not appreciate the taste but…" he trailed off.
"That is their only option to satisfy their thirst," Carlisle finished for him. "I know," he conceded with a grave shake of his head. "It is distressing."
Yes, it most certainly is, Aro thought.
He was astonished that even with no other choice, the vampires under Carlisle's care would react so negatively to animal blood—the only fluid which might alleviate some of their pain. He had been so sure starvation was the secret to Carlisle's success. But perhaps he was wrong.
Or perhaps, I thought with a shiver, their starvation is simply not yet severe enough?
It had only been a month, after all. And in both instances—right after his transformation, and after the "incident"—Carlisle had waited four months before he had begun hunting animals.
"And what do you make of it?" Aro prodded gently, oblivious to my thoughts.
Carlisle frowned miserably. "I am not sure."
"Do you think the two substances—human blood and animal blood—are incompatible?" Aro prompted.
Carlisle shook his head. "No. The substances are not physically incompatible. I, myself have proven that they are not," he explained, referencing the incident that had restored his strength. "Rather, it seems that our kind cannot get past the awful taste of animal blood when their hunger is not yet severe enough."
So Carlisle agreed with me, I thought.
Aro blinked in genuine surprise. "So you do think it is starvation that allows your diet."
Carlisle shrugged. "I am not sure I would put it that way…"
Aro fought to urge to roll his eyes. There is no use in sugar-coating the truth, Carlisle.
"My… abilities also appear to play a greater role than I previously thought," Carlisle explained a bit reluctantly. "I knew ever since I came here that I have been using them to assist with my thirst. But I did not realize that for some time I have been using my powers to modify the taste of animal blood as well. To make it slightly more palatable."
Aro arched an eyebrow at this. "Oh?"
"So, I was wondering if, perhaps, I could add a new layer to this experiment?" Carlisle asked with a certain hesitancy that surprised me. I wasn't used to him sounding so unsure. Especially about things pertaining to his humane diet.
"You wish to use your powers to help the others handle your diet?" Aro guessed.
"Not all of them," Carlisle clarified. "There would need to be a control. I was thinking I would only touch half—"
"A third," Aro cut in, haggling the number down.
"Four subjects, then," Carlisle agreed without argument. "I will test my powers on four subjects. And see if it helps."
Aro regarded his friend curiously. "And whom will you pick?"
He obviously was worried that Carlisle might pick the wrong people—people he cared about a bit more than the others—to test his frightening powers on. But Carlisle had already thought of this. And come up with a brilliant way to sidestep the issue altogether.
He smiled. "Whoever volunteers first."
…
"Carlisle, it has been two months now, what is the status of our experiment?" Aro asked.
Carlisle sighed heavily. "Not good."
That piqued Aro's interest. "What is the matter?"
"Didyme, Carmen, Chen and Ting—the ones who volunteered to let me use my powers to help them with their thirst—appear to be in less pain than the others. But beyond that, I have not made any positive progress," Carlisle admitted with a solemn shake of his head.
"I have given them every type of animal blood Italy has to offer and… not a single test subject has shown any signs of reduced thirst," he lamented.
Aro quirked an eyebrow at this. "Meaning?"
"Almost all of them drink up whatever I give them eagerly now, despite the taste," Carlisle rushed to say, to clear up any misconceptions. "I believe Carmen, Heinrich and Afton are the only exceptions—they are somewhat more reluctant. But all of the subjects are irritable and weak. And when they use their powers, the situation is only aggravated further."
Carlisle's eyes desperately searched Aro's. He wanted to know if Aro had any clue as to why such results were manifesting themselves.
Aro clasped his hands together. "Ah yes, I had noticed that," he responded with a gentle sigh. "Vera is doing particularly poorly with the drain her powers have exerted on her."
Aro gave Carlisle a disapproving stare. He was upset that Carlisle was causing the girl suffering.
Carlisle, witnessing Aro's malcontent, gulped nervously. "You are right. Vera is probably hurting the most," he admitted, looking troubled. "When you asked her to restore the arm that Caius lost to a Child of the Moon, I did not believe she could do it," he confessed, still sounding shocked.
And I couldn't agree more. That Vera's abilities allowed her to regrow an entire missing appendage from only a jagged stub was a wonder one had to witness to believe.
"Although it seems to have taken quite the toll on her system," Carlisle related sadly.
And that it had. Aro remembered all too clearly finding Vera collapsed on the floor in the catacombs only a few hours after she'd restored Caius' arms. And when he'd helped her back onto her feet, he'd been astonished to note that she already had pitch-black eyes, even though most of the other newborns in the experiment hadn't even progressed to a dark red yet.
It was disturbing. And it made Aro reluctant to ask Vera to heal anything else. At least, while she was still under Carlisle's care.
Carlisle frowned, before he told us more. "I do not understand why Vera's eyes have not turned golden yet. Since she restored Caius' arm, she started drinking at least twice as much as the others. And I spend almost all my evenings hunting now to keep up with her thirst. But whatever nutrients animal blood have… they do not appear to be enough for her."
That was the understatement of the century, Aro thought.
"And the others?" Aro asked.
"Carmen is doing relatively well, since she has no powers. And both Heinrich and Afton are alright, since their powers are mental, rather than physical," Carlisle responded with relative optimism. "But the rest, like Vera, have mostly physical gifts. And of course, as you know, those with physical gifts need to feed more often than the rest of us. Especially when they are using their gifts so frequently for your own experiments."
Aro nodded placidly. This wasn't anything new to him.
But I was floored by this information. Vampires with physical gifts got thirstier than others did? Their powers had a physical cost?
From a physics point of view it made sense. Energy couldn't be created or destroyed, only changed.
But from an emotional perspective, I was devastated. That meant that every time Jasper used his power, he was making himself hungrier.
And while abstaining from using her powers might be an option available to Vera, even if he had wanted to, it wasn't like Jasper could just stop using his powers altogether. Part of his power—the part that felt the emotions of the people around him—couldn't be turned off.
So, no matter what, he was stuck with the side-effects that came with being a vampire with physical powers on a diet of animal blood. And after having seen through Aro's memories what that did to Vera—making her so weak that she lost her balance—I suddenly felt very worried for Jasper.
Vera's collapse reminded me too much of what had happened to Carlisle. How he had almost died.
"Your sister seems to be doing the best out of all those with physical powers," Carlisle announced suddenly to placate Aro.
His words jolted me. Aro's sister has a physical power?
But Carlisle frustratingly refused to elaborate—on that, at least. And Aro's thoughts weren't very helpful either.
…
"Month four is upon us," Aro said brightly, as he floated into the grey-stoned rooms where the experiments were being conducted. "I trust you have news?"
Carlisle smiled then—which Aro thought meant he had finally had some positive results. But it was strained action. Almost painful looking. And that immediately made Aro suspicious.
"What has happened, Carlisle?"
"Well, there is some good news," Carlisle began, tentatively. "I have become better at eliminating thirst in others as it happens. Using my gifts of course."
Carlisle paused for a moment to survey Aro's reaction. I couldn't see it from my vantage point, but the disappointment I felt radiating in Aro's body was enough to give me an idea. Carlisle swallowed, and continued.
"Didyme is quite comfortable now," he felt the need to point out. "As are the others I am assisting."
"I am glad Didyme is doing well," Aro acknowledged. "However, I am doubly relieved that she is not pregnant at the time. I heard rumors that Vera…"
Carlisle immediately dipped his head, guilt etching his features. And Aro, trailed off, his eyebrows raising in surprise.
"So it is true then?" Aro asked. "That the girl lost the child that was within her?"
Carlisle continued to stare at the flagstones beneath his feet. "Yes," he mumbled. "I was not sure what to expect—we were not even aware that there was a child within her when she was changed. It was too early to know…"
Carlisle choked on his words. And the guilt he felt for allowing a pregnant woman into his dangerous experiments was palpable.
But I was too busy being shocked to feel any pity for him or the vampire woman. Vera had been pregnant when she was turned? That was new.
And my shock only increased as Carlisle went on.
"The child, though immortalized along with her, was not frozen developmentally. It still seemed to be growing. At least until…"
Carlisle brushed his fingers delicately across Aro's wrist for a fraction of a second. A horrid image of a tiny, pale, dead embryo soaked in venom flashed across our vision, followed by another of Vera tearlessly sobbing. Then Carlisle pulled away, making the image disappear. And he winced, obviously disturbed.
Aro felt a bit unsettled himself. But he'd seen much worse. So the image of Vera's dead offspring—as traumatizing as it was to me—didn't bother him as much as I thought it would. At least not emotionally. It bothered him for other reasons.
"Do you believe that the child might have survived—grown to be healthy, hospitable and happy like Valentina—if Vera had been fed human blood?"
Carlisle made a face. But he wasn't a liar.
"I think it is highly possible," he admitted with great reluctance. "Didyme—who we know is capable of producing children—has not shown any indications of retaining her fertility since beginning the experiment. And neither have the others. Which leads me to believe that my diet has made them all… barren."
Carlisle flinched. Then decided to elaborate on his thinking.
"Normally, a female vampire's scent changes ever so slightly from time to time, to indicate their fecundity. But since Didyme adopted my diet her scent has been… well… stagnant."
Aro nodded. He'd noticed this.
But then, seeing how forlorn Carlisle's expression was, Aro decided the conversation needed to take a different turn.
"You should not chastise yourself so harshly, Carlisle," he said in a soothing tone. "Vera herself was unaware of the child. So even I was unaware until very recently. And if I had known before, I would have insisted that she wait to deliver the child before transformation. Never before have I dealt with one who was changed whilst carrying."
Carlisle nodded. But his sadness didn't abate.
"May I continue to see if I can prove my diet is sustainable?" he asked a little hesitantly.
He was obviously worried that Aro would say no—especially in light of this new development. And Aro would later regret that he hadn't.
But for the moment, Aro was content. He had promised Carlisle at least a year. And so it was only fair to give him the full-chance to prove himself.
"You may," Aro conceded, with a short nod. "However, I will be visiting you as often as occasion permits to check up on your progress," he informed Carlisle.
"I will not disappoint you," Carlisle promised.
Aro made to leave the grey-stoned room then. But just before he left, he spun on his heel to give Carlisle a lingering, deeply incredulous look.
"We shall see…"
…
Aro kept his promise to keep a close eye on the experiment from then on. He came by nearly every day to make sure no other alarming signs were manifesting themselves. But for a while things mostly stayed the same.
Didyme, Chen, Ting, and Carmen were hardly disturbed by their pain anymore. Carlisle had planted an elaborate alteration on their minds that filtered the sensate perception of their thirst almost immediately. But though they didn't display the same rabid behaviors as the rest—behaviors that had forced the guard to imprison them in the catacombs to keep them from seeking out human blood—all twelve subjects suffered the same physical effects.
Their strength was severely weakened—Aro had all of the test subjects spar briefly with his guard to compare their strengths. And the results had not been promising. Many complained of various muscle aches and pains. Even when going about relatively non-strenuous activities. Their skin was greenish. And the dark circles underneath their eyes were prominent almost all the time.
But most incriminating of all, those with physical powers—which was everyone besides Afton, Heinrich, and Carmen—had difficulties keeping their eyes golden. Their bodies burned through the paltry nutrition animal blood offered quickly, necessitating weekly, and in some cases—like Vera—daily feeding.
And it irritated Aro to see the girl who had already done so much for his coven—who had given Caius his arm back—be in so much pain.
…
Month six of the experiment was when it all went to hell. I honestly wasn't sure why I had expected to see anything different. All along modern day Aro had been hinting through our connection that something like this was going to happen. That the side effects of drinking animal blood really were quite dire. Especially for those with physical powers.
But I had been wholly unprepared to watch half of the test subjects suddenly drop dead one afternoon. To watch their eyes fade from golden to black almost instantly after they were fed. Then see them faint suddenly, one after another, in the gray-stone room that was the hub of Carlisle's experiments. And never get up again.
And I was even more unprepared for Aro's reaction.
Chen. Ting. Kalifa. Yvonne. Zain. Mel.
Dead. All of them.
Collapsed, just like Carlisle. Only this time, I was too late to save them.
After a moment of unthinking panic, Aro touched each of the unmoving vampires on the cheek to determine that the life was well and truly gone from each of them. Then, once he was sure there was no hope of saving them, he asked a handful of guards to drop off their limp, lifeless bodies in the turret room to be given a proper send-off later.
And once that was taken care of, Aro rounded on Carlisle.
"Carlisle!" he roared.
"I am so, so sorry, Aro," Carlisle began apologizing immediately. "I had no clue this was going to happen! They seemed fine this morning!"
"This experiment ends now!" Aro bellowed imperiously.
And to his credit, Carlisle didn't protest. "Of course. Right away."
"Thank the heavens you are alive, Didyme," Aro praised, running up to where she was sitting on her cot and enveloping her in a crushing embrace. "But I cannot have you be a part of this any longer," he told her without any room for argument. "It is too dangerous."
"You are going to feed me human blood?" Didyme rasped, something akin to hope gleaming in her obsidian eyes.
I was astonished at how dry her voice sounded. And how very eager she seemed to do that, despite her unease around the topic earlier. But perhaps, after having gained first-hand experience with how awful the alternatives were, her slight discomfort with drinking human blood had vanished.
"Yes. I will grab the nearest human I can find," Aro assured her, giving her shoulder an affectionate pat.
"We have gone through so many secretaries this year," Didyme choked out, a wry smile playing at the edge of her lips.
Aro mimicked her expression for a moment. It was strange how similar the two of them were. "I am willing to part with a few more, for your sake. And, Vera's," he told her, to alleviate any concerns. Then he gestured sharply toward the room's exit. "Please, come with me. And quickly!"
Didyme hobbled to her feet, swaying slightly as she stood. And while the other remaining vampires scrambled up from their cots after her, Carlisle rushed to offer another apology. "Aro, I am so sorry. If I had known…"
Aro held up a hand to cut him off. "Save your excuses, Carlisle." Aro snapped. He then, deciding Didyme was in no condition to walk, hauled her up into his arms, and started sauntering purposefully towards the door. "My sister and I are leaving."
…
Once again, Aro edited out the actual feeding—for which I was immensely grateful. Though, when the memory faded out from black again, I realized that this time, it hadn't been a hapless pair of secretaries that Aro had fed to Didyme and Vera.
Instead, Heidi had made a timely return. And Aro himself, along with all the remaining members of Carlisle's experiment, had fed on the party of humans she had brought back. And they' kept on drinking until every living vampire in the castle, besides Carlisle, was satisfied completely.
When Aro emerged from the turret room, an hour later, he still had not spoken to Carlisle since his outburst in the catacombs. And he was already trying to come up with an apology for his harsh words.
Although Aro was furious with the outcome of Carlisle's experiments—so many potent gifts, lost—he had to admit that he was partially to blame. He had known there were risks inherent in the experiment, after all. And yet, he had pig-headedly gone forward with them anyway. All to prove a point. So it wasn't fair to take out all of his anger on Carlisle.
And besides, Aro was eager to preserve the friendship the two men had developed in the past two decades. He hated the idea that Carlisle might think ill of him because of a single moment of tactlessness.
It would not do well to approach him now, however. Aro had only just barely finished his meal. The scent of death was still fresh in the fibers of his clothes. His lips were stained a brilliant red. And his cheeks were flushed with the evidence of his recent feeding.
And all of these would only add to Carlisle's sorrow.
So, Aro moved quickly out of the turret room, and began to make his way towards his chambers. He planned to draw a bath to rid himself of the scent clinging to my skin, and any other residual "artifacts" before he approached Carlisle again.
However, it seemed fate had a different plan. When Aro passed through the secret door in the wall, he nearly bumped directly into Carlisle.
Aro halted abruptly in his tracks. "Pardon me," he said, before sidestepping the man and resuming his movement.
A wash of embarrassment coursed through Aro. Of all the times he had to run into the man… But just before he could finish crossing the hallway, something tugged at one of his sleeves. And Aro looked back to find Carlisle holding the edge of his robes, and looking at him with, wide, sad eyes.
Aro's stomach dropped. Oh no.
Carlisle gulped when he saw what Aro had been trying to hide from him—all the glaring evidences of his recent feeding. Then he closed his eyes and choked out: "Are they... are they doing well?" He asked, while shuddering. It was torturous to watch. "Didyme, Vera are they—"
Aro interrupted him. "Yes. They have recovered their strength. You need not worry for them any longer."
Carlisle said nothing in response to Aro's consolation. Instead he turned away from Aro's gaze and looked despairingly upward. I wondered if he was asking the higher powers of the universe why they would be so cruel as to create a species that required the blood of human beings to survive.
It was a good question.
But I wasn't sure any of us were ever going to get a satisfactory answer.
"Carlisle, please do not despair," Aro beseeched him.
"I am just so disappointed in myself. Even with my assistance, those with physical powers could not abide living with… insufficient nutrition."
Aro's eyebrows rose at this subtle, but profound confession. "You admit that it is insufficient, then?" he probed enthusiastically.
Could Carlisle really be conceding the truth? Aro hoped. Maybe not everything that came of the experiment had to be bad. Is this the day he decides to join the feast? I do believe Heidi brought extras today…
Upon seeing Aro's disconcertingly excited expression, Carlisle held up a forbidding hand. A hand that silently affirmed that his recent discovery, regrettably, did not apply to himself.
"For those with physical gifts," he clarified.
Aro's face fell.
"I believe that the evidence speaks for itself rather well," Carlisle explained logically, referencing the six dead whose ashes were smoking in the turret room right now. "And I am not foolish enough to contradict it. Even though I do not like it."
"Yes, that would be foolish," Aro said coldly.
Carlisle nodded, then extended his hand towards Aro. It was a silent offering for Aro witness what he had learned for himself. And Aro took it.
Carlisle elicited a small gasp as Aro's soft fingers curled tightly around his. But Aro only held Carlisle's hand for a moment. Then he let go and pressed his hands together in front of his chest.
"You should not deny that your diet affects you negatively as well," Aro said.
Carlisle flashed Aro a dark look. "I am fine."
Aro shook his head. "You and I both know that is not true."
"Will you at least give me six more months to prove myself to you?" Carlisle begged.
But Aro scoffed. "What is there to prove? I have seen enough. And you said yourself that animal blood was insufficient."
"I know... and I am glad to hear that your sister and the others are doing better, but..." Carlisle gazed dejectedly at the floor, and trailed off, unable to label the source of his misery.
"It still troubles you," Aro observed softly.
"Yes," he sighed heavily. "So many deaths... And for what?" His voice cracked with desperate emotion. "A pleasant taste and marginally improved strength?" he spat in bewildered disdain.
"The differences in our strengths are hardly marginal..." Aro countered as delicately as he could manage. "Two weeks ago, while measuring your strength against those who drink human blood, Jane wiped the floor with you... with one arm. And she did not even have to resort to using her gift."
Carlisle grimaced at the unpleasant memory. Their "sparring" had been extremely brief.
"Although she may be immortal, she is barely thirteen, Carlisle," Aro added. "And thirteen-year-old little girls should not be able to physically best adult men."
"I know, Aro. I know," Carlisle granted. He raised two hands in a defensive gesture. "I simply do not understand it yet. But I will get to the bottom of this discrepancy of strength, I swear it," he promised. "Just please, give me the full year you promised."
Aro nodded curtly. "Very well. I will allow you to stay for another six months on animal blood, since you do not appear to be in immediate danger. But during that time, see that you do get to the bottom of this."
"Yes, of course," Carlisle agreed instantly. Then his face suffused with gratitude. "Thank you."
…
"Carlisle, your six months are up. Have you discovered why those who drink animals have such a different color of eyes?" Aro inquired at the end of the period he had allotted Carlisle to prove his diet was sustainable.
Carlisle sighed. This day had come all too quickly for him. "I cannot say for certain what is going on. But as I was studying, I did come up with one theory…"
"Let's hear it," Aro encouraged eagerly, gesturing for him to continue.
"Do you know what color human blood is when it is fresh from the vein, healthy and alive?" He asked.
I was somewhat taken aback by the inquiry. What? Did he think Aro was, stupid? He's a vampire for crying out loud! Of course he knows what color human blood is!
"Red, of course," Aro responded, with an incredulous frown. "Or are you looking for a more in depth description of the hue? I see the color on a regular basis, you know."
Aro smirked devilishly.
But Carlisle, who was used to it by now, ignored him. And instead, he continued in his baffling interrogation.
"And are not your eyes the same color when you feed?" he questioned further.
"…Yes..." Aro answered slowly. He still wasn't sure where Carlisle was going with this.
But I thought I might be starting to catch on. Was he suggesting what I thought he was?
"So might we suppose then, that your eyes are revealing what is in your system, correct?" Carlisle asked.
"I suppose we can make that conclusion, yes," Aro replied hesitantly. "My eyes are bright red right after a good meal. But then as time passes the blood is used up, leaving my eyes vacant—black."
"…Right, so then… why are my eyes and his eyes yellow? Is not animal blood red as well?" Carlisle asked.
Aro blinked a few times to convey his surprise. "…That was why I asked you. I do not understand it."
Carlisle calmly walked over to the other side of the grey-stoned room and picked up an ornate silver tray off one of the abandoned wrought-iron cots. Atop the tray sat two small glass jars stoppered with corks. And the jars were filled with two different, unidentified liquids.
Without a word of explanation, Carlisle began walking back towards us with the tray in hand.
As he drew closer I noticed that one of the jars was filled with a watery, pale yellow substance that emitted a faint, unfamiliar odor. And the other jar contained was filled with a comparatively viscous, dark red liquid. It too, only released the barest fragrance through the thick glass. But through Aro's keen nose, I immediately recognized the scent as human blood.
When Carlisle got close enough, he suddenly thrust the silver tray under Aro's nose.
"Blood does turn yellow sometimes…" Carlisle started to say.
He paused to lift the container filled with the slightly smelly, pale yellow liquid. Then he slowly placed it in Aro's hands so that he could view it more closely.
"…when it breaks apart, and decomposes into waste products," Carlisle finished.
He glanced towards the stoppered glass in Aro's hands. And I guessed that meant the perplexing liquid we now held was the decomposed blood of which he spoke.
"Waste products?" Aro asked, bewildered.
It had been a long time since Aro was human. So he wasn't sure what Carlisle was referring to.
"Ah yes, that is urine, or piss, if you prefer," He explained politely with a gentle smile.
Aro quickly handed the container back to Carlisle. He was no longer interested in being in such close proximity with such a gross substance.
"Ah… I see."
Carlisle seemed oblivious to Aro's disgust. He settled the container of human waste against the silver tray once more. And the glass clinked against the shiny metal surface.
"Urine's characteristic color is caused by the broken down proteins of dead blood," Carlisle continued. "And with its similarity in color to my own eyes, and because of some of the unsatisfactory results we've seen in my test subjects, I began to wonder if perhaps that is what we are seeing—decomposing blood—rather than healthy red blood," he finished logically.
It stunned us both that Carlisle had come to such a conclusion. It made perfect sense. And yet, it also cast a disparaging light on his diet—something we had not expected. Aro and I had assumed Carlisle would attempt to rationalize the varying color in his eyes as a good sign, not as an indication of poor health.
But maybe we shouldn't have presumed that. Because, while Carlisle often personally neglected to place his "blessings" under scrutiny, he was not one to dispute the suffering of others when it lied right before his eyes.
And for that reason alone, Aro was willing to assert that this experiment had been a good idea.
"Fascinating…" Aro breathed.
Carlisle calmly took the ornate tray in his hands back over the bedside table and set it down. He returned to Aro's side immediately.
"The only flaw I see with that theory, is that I cannot fathom why animal blood would decompose in the system like that before it is used up by the body."
Clearly, he was frustrated that the evidence was running afoul of his previous assumptions.
"It is clear that their bodies are not synthesizing the animal blood properly," he went on. "Instead of keeping it alive and healthy, as the system does with human blood, their bodies are breaking the animal blood down very rapidly—causing the yellow color. The breakdown also is causing their eyes to blacken completely within a week or two, whereas yours take at least a month and half, if not two months before your eyes even darken a shade after you had fed," he explained, lamenting.
Carlisle's intellectual mind was determined to accept the facts as they were, no matter how unpleasant. And this pleased Aro. But Aro could tell that the notion that abstinence from human blood was detrimental to himself and others was wearing heavily on Carlisle's soul.
"What I do not understand is the reason for the symptoms I have seen. Why should human blood be any better for the body than animal blood? Are they not fundamentally the same? Aside from taste?" Carlisle asked in mystified desperation.
Aro lifted two hands with palms outward to signify that Carlisle should not jump to conclusions. Animal blood and human blood might both be red, viscous liquids which carried oxygen and nutrients. But Aro sincerely doubted that there was much alike about them beyond that.
"My instinct would be to say that is not so," Aro countered. "The physical symptoms, say that much at least."
Judging by his skeptical expression, and his crossed arms, Carlisle seemed unconvinced. So Aro decided to elaborate.
"Compared to my guard, the test subjects were very weak; easily bested in terms of strength and endurance even by the least muscular members. Certainly animal blood gives our subjects enough strength to easily surpass a human, so long as they use their powers infrequently. But they would be utterly useless in a battle against other vampires," Aro announced. "As would you…"
Carlisle frowned at Aro's accurate observations. And Aro even sensed that Carlisle envied his strength. But he would not pursue it when came at the lofty cost of human sacrifice.
"The thirst also makes them irritable and prone to rapid mood swings," Aro continued before Carlisle could interrupt him. "The slightest sound will send their eyes frantically searching the room. And the scent of human blood renders them incapable of rational thought."
"Yes but—"
"We must also consider the deeper effects," Aro went on, interrupting him. "The dark circles and greenish skin we have observed. And the fact that all the female test subjects ceased their usual fertile processes."
Carlisle grimaced. Aro was right.
"...Yes, all of those things are is true..." Carlisle conceded hesitantly. "But, I simply do not understand it."
The room feel painfully silent as Carlisle wallowed in self-pity. He ran a nervous hand through his hair, and sighed in utter defeat.
"Hmmm. I have a theory for why animal blood is insufficient," Aro mused aloud.
Carlisle perked up. "You do?"
"Although, I do not know what particular components animal blood is lacking, I do know that the blood which gives a vampire their greatest strength is the blood they possessed as humans," Aro offered matter-of-factly.
"And how do you know this?" Carlisle inquired skeptically.
"Newborn vampires still possess their human blood in their tissues," Aro told him. "And when they are fed properly, they are at the strongest beings on earth for the first year it lingers in their bodies."
Carlisle blinked in shock. "Truly?"
"Yes. Although I can easily outsmart them in battle, in terms of pure strength, they could easily overwhelm me," Aro confessed.
Aro was unashamedly honest about his relatively inferior physical capacity. While it certainly was a disadvantage, newborns and Aro were not so unevenly matched as Carlisle and Aro were. With tact and subterfuge, Aro stood a sporting chance against them. But Carlisle did not.
"But this state is temporary. Eventually their human blood is used up, and they lose this strength, correct?" Carlisle questioned.
"Unfortunately, yes," Aro admitted. "But that strength can be restored for a time."
Carlisle, who was surprised to hear this, was immediately, and insatiably curious. "How?"
"There are some who possess blood which is… shall we say, written in a similar fashion to the blood we had as humans. Like a variation on the same tune, it is slightly different, but oh so close…" Aro explained. "We call those who possess this blood, cantanti or 'singers', because their blood seems to call to us, to sing to us an irresistible song like the sirens of ancient Greece," he went on. "The scent alone can drive even the most well-fed of vampires into insanity. And to taste the blood of a singer is like drinking pure ambrosia—the most delectable taste in the universe."
Aro licked his lips and elicited a delighted sigh.
Carlisle looked disturbed at the sight. But he swallowed and quickly shook off his disgust.
"…How often do you find… those with blood that sings to you?" he asked a little timidly.
Aro heaved another deep sigh, this one sorrowful, rather than satisfied. "Regrettably, it varies from vampire to vampire. I suppose some types of blood are more common than others. Demetri seems to find one who sings to him every other year. And I have felt the pleasure many times through my gift. But I have never had the privilege myself."
Two blonde eyebrows nearly lifted off of Carlisle's forehead. "Never? But you are…"
"Yes, I am aware that I am ancient," Aro dismissed the obvious deduction with a slight scowl. "But even in my three thousand years of existence, I have not found a single one whose blood has appealed to me in that manner. And I am beginning to think that whatever sort of blood I possessed as a human is now extinct."
Aro reached out his arms and grasped longingly at the air, before slowly loosening his fists, and dropping his hands resignedly at his sides. I guessed it was a visual expression of how ripped-off Aro felt. That he'd been cheated by fate, or something.
Carlisle, however, ignored Aro's bereavement. "You said this blood—the blood of 'singers'—is… enticing. Do you have any idea why?" he asked, evidently confused.
"Do you presume our bodies to invent these urges randomly?" Aro demanded disbelievingly.
Certainly Carlisle cannot suppose that our bloodthirst is simply a curse designed to torment us? Certainly he understands that it is our body's way of letting us know what we need to survive, much as human hunger and thirst is to human bodies, right?
The idea that vampire instincts were ultimately meaningless went against all logic.
"The blood of cantanti, which smells and tastes the most exquisite, gives us the most strength. Human blood which smells and tastes delicious, but does not sing to us gives us acceptable strength. Human blood which is less appealing than even that, gives us lesser strength," Aro said definitively.
He was hoping that Carlisle would catch the crucial pattern evident in his statements. And to Aro's delight, he did.
Carlisle's eyes widened in realization. "Then animal blood…"
"Yes. Animal blood smells and tastes disgusting. So logically it follows that it gives us barely any strength. Is that not what we have observed?"
"But why must this be so?" Carlisle cried out in despair.
He looked down at his body with a look of determination. It was as if he planned to radically change his physiology simply by force of thought.
"Our bodies were originally human bodies, Carlisle—human bodies designed to accommodate a very specific type of human blood. In our immortality, they have been adapted to be able to consume a wider variety. But that still does not change the fact that we are still, in some respects, human," Aro affirmed, gesturing to himself. "Animal blood is wholly incompatible with the design of our system."
The room fell into a heavy, stale silence after Aro's unwavering declaration of fact.
Carlisle said nothing for a very long time. And for the barest moment Aro was almost convinced that he had not heard him. But as soon as Aro parted his lips to speak, at last, Carlisle broke the silence.
"…You make a very compelling case, Aro," Carlisle breathed, in awe of himself for saying this. "I had hoped that this experiment would be an opportunity for me to persuade you to change your ways," he admitted with a rueful smile. "But with the outcomes we have seen, it seems I was mistaken."
Aro's eyebrows arched high on his forehead. He hadn't expected Carlisle to admit this. Ever.
"Do you want me to fetch you someone to drink then?" Aro offered enthusiastically. "Heidi brought extras this month."
Carlisle stiffened at Aro's casual mention of human slaughter. Then gave a polite, "No, thank you."
"Carlisle, certainly the evidence convinces you that drinking animal blood is unhealthy!" Aro contested sharply, fed-up with Carlisle's stubbornness.
Dammit Carlisle! Aro thought. Powerful vampires had died to prove this!
Carlisle exhaled. "Yes, it is quite ineffective in dispelling thirst, and providing full-strength. I see that now. But that does not change the fact that I refuse to kill humans," he insisted. "I am willing to pay the price, no matter how costly, to abstain from ending human life."
"Even if you die?" Aro inquired sourly.
Carlisle sighed. "Even then," he granted somewhat reluctantly. "I will continue to dine on animal blood. I refuse to kill humans."
Aro, who seemed to have an epiphany then, lowered his voice to a calm, feathery, whisper. "You needn't kill humans to partake of their blood. If damnation truly is your concern, I could… take the blow for you…" he suggested slowly.
Carlisle's blonde eyelashes fluttered, bewildered. "What do you mean?" he asked.
"I could kill for you, so that those deaths were on my hands," Aro explained. "I would gladly bear the guilt for you, if there is any to be born, Carlisle," he added with the utmost sincerity, and a note of pleading.
Carlisle looked positively petrified by the suggestion that Aro would willingly take upon himself the scourge of damnation in his place. His golden eyes bulged. And his face somehow seemed even paler than before.
I felt heartened that Carlisle cared enough about Aro to loathe the notion letting Aro taint his soul for his sake. But according to Carlisle's belief system, Aro was already irredeemably condemned as long as he remained an unrepentant murderer. And since Aro had no intentions of changing, what was the harm in adding a few more strikes to his overflowing sin-tally?
Is there something else I have overlooked? he wondered.
We watched a thick lump build up in Carlisle's throat. "No, Aro," he began, ducking his eyes away. "Although that is… generous of you, I could not accept such an arrangement."
He struggled to keep his tone polite. But the tiniest edge of sarcasm found its way into the word generous as it left his lips.
"Their deaths would still be indirectly my fault," Carlisle went on. "And I could not live with myself knowing that I caused innocent people to die," he explained with a miserable expression.
"They would perish at my hands anyway," Aro rationalized placidly, as though they were discussing something as mundane as the weather. "With few exceptions, all mortals who enter this castle will eventually be consumed. And none I will ever offer to kill for you, would have ever survived otherwise."
Carlisle made a discomfited expression. "Still…"
Aro sighed. "So you will not be persuaded then?"
"No," he declared, leaving no room for argument over the matter. "You may do as you wish," he granted with a weary expression. "But I will continue to drink the blood of beasts."
Aro opened his mouth to protest.
But Carlisle cut him off. "If that means I am no longer welcome…"
Aro sighed again. "I am afraid so."