"I do not want people to be agreeable, as it saves me the trouble of liking them."
Jane Austen
Chapter Seven:
No More Mrs. Nice Mom
In more than a century of knowing Esme, he'd never seen her in such a fury. She could be fiercely protective – like a mother bear watching out for her cubs – but she'd never been so fierce as she was now. Where Edward had seen her chastise and make rules and enforce those rules within her family, he'd never seen his adoptive mother work herself into such a flurry of activity and anger.
Obviously, it had a lot to do with Carlisle leaving, and from the tenor of her thoughts he was fairly sure she wasn't actually angry at Carlisle – she was just angry at the situation, angry in general…
Angry at Aro. He didn't have to be Jasper to read her emotions on her face, but it had taken a few minutes of dissecting the tumult of her mind to figure out exactly what was going on. Esme blamed Aro for pulling them all into this mess.
He listened harder – it wouldn't do if she violently murdered the ex-leader of the Volturi. Not that she would… he'd just never seen her so overtaken by her feelings.
Esme wasn't going to kill Aro. But she did have other plans.
To start with, Emmett found himself with an old fashioned vacuum and duster, and instructions to work backwards from the top floor. Rosalie was told to wash all the cars sitting in the driveway. Edward was asked to stay close, loading the washing machine, and focus on Aro's mind. Bella was to take a run – not too far away, mind you – but Esme wanted her to get some fresh, non-Aro tainted air.
With the living room empty, the interrogation began.
"Why did you come here?" Standing in front of the coffee table, arms crossed over her chest, looming over Aro's seated form, Esme looked a formidable opponent.
The Volturi vampire was not easily intimidated. "I've already told you, when I told your husband."
"I'd like to hear it again." Edward hadn't heard her use this voice since they were all living together, fifty years ago now, when Jasper and Emmett crushed the tomato plants in a game of toss-the-football gone madly out of hand. It was the "Mom" voice; the unwavering one, that spoke of rules and punishment. He heard Aro's mind falter with surprise at this woman's ire. Aro knew something of rules and punishment, though he couldn't figure out which laws he'd broken, to incite such wrath.
The old man wouldn't fight. "I came here seeking asylum. I know Carlisle to be a compassionate man, and your family to be loyal to the Volturi purpose."
"Was it your intention, then, to send my husband off to war?" Her pitch rose a little at the end of the sentence, betraying her emotion.
"It was not." That much Edward could tell was true.
"Then you had nothing to do with the phone call my husband received yesterday? From the President of the United States?"
Aro faltered here. The truth might offend this woman, and he could find himself sitting on the edge of the freeway like a sparkling blood-sucking hitchhiker.
Edward gasped when he saw Aro's train of thought, and the old man realized that attempts at hiding information would be fruitless, and stupid.
"When the wars in the south became… severe, I found the President asking for an emergency contact – one of us within his own country who he could turn to for advice, should the President be unable to reach me. Carlisle has always been such a man."
As predicted, Esme was angry. She held her arms tightly, as if keeping herself from hitting somehting. "Did it not occur to you to ask permission?"
"It did, and I did." Aro was smug; he had found his advantage here.
"I haven't heard of it."
"Of course you haven't. The emergency contact was more for the President's peace of mind than any actual use. I didn't foresee ever being unable to respond to a threat to our secrecy. Carlisle believed as I did – that it wasn't going to be an issue. He lived among us for years; he's witnessed our power, the strength of our guard. For two hundred years that emergency contact has remained unused."
"Until now." Esme's words were short and sharp.
"Obviously, times have changed." Aro's voice took a sad turn; he had, after all, lost everything.
Esme paced a bit, stomping a little as she went, trying to relieve the tension in her body. It only served to rile her up more. "So, you're telling me that we've been tracked this whole time? All those illegal files and transactions and all this secrecy? Murder?"
She finally finished her pacing and sank into the overstuffed couch. "We're wanted criminals."
Aro leaned forward now, and spoke softly, as if to reassure her. "The President is more than aware of your status within this world, Mrs. Cullen. He knows that you are not governed by human laws, but by the laws of the Volturi. To that end you have been granted immunity."
"The Volturi are no more." Esme was harsh, biting. "Where does that leave us?"
"Where does that leave any of us? We are encroaching on chaos."
Esme was quiet for a few minutes, collecting herself. It was enough, Edward thought, for her husband to disappear one afternoon – how much more painful for her to discover that, even if she hadn't wanted it, they were all deeper embroiled into this than they'd realized.
Aro sat back in his chair in the silence, feeling himself the weight of what was going on. It would be a pity to lose such a good man as Carlisle Cullen. While he wasn't sure about this family's feeding habits, their dedication to secrecy, the effectiveness with which they covered their tracks; Aro could only wish all of his subjects were so conscientious.
Esme took a deep breath, and studied the face of the man she was beginning to hate. "What, exactly, is going on here? If the President knows, who else is aware of our existence? What, exactly, is happening? What is so dangerous that you are hiding here?"
Aro took a moment before answering her; Edward could hear him organize his thoughts, debate over what or how to edit them. The old man wanted to tell this woman the truth – but he didn't want her involved more than she already was, knowing more than she needed to know. It was too dangerous. Edward was momentarily grateful to the ancient vampire, and simultaneously frustrated that he wouldn't spill the whole truth.
Yet again, Aro knew that even if he didn't vocally share everything , Edward would still hear it, and so he took a focusing breath and began.
"We found ourselves distracted by an unfortunate, untimely incident in Bulgaria. I have no doubt anymore that it was simply a ruse, planted to keep us unsuspecting. The rebels sneaked up on and surrounded Volterra. We found out at the last minute, and we sent the guard out to defend ourselves – but we were sorely outnumbered. It seemed for every one they killed, another one emerged from the shadows."
Esme nodded, listening quietly, purely absorbing Aro's words. She wanted so desperately to understand.
"You know, as well as I do, what type of creatures we are, Mrs. Cullen. While you and your family may have found a way to live peacefully – to be civilized – most of our kind are consumed by their thirst. The thirst always comes first. Even within my own coven, we lived in a atmosphere of political maneuvering, always wanting more blood.
"These vampires were no different. Some were newborns, some were wild and unruly, creatures who had been hiding in forests and jungles for centuries. When it came down to it, the in-fighting got the best of them. The rebel army split up into smaller groups and dispersed across the world, each seeking their own bountiful source of blood."
"Then why are you here?" Esme kept her voice level, but Edward could hear the rising irritation in her mind at this infuriating, inconsiderate old codger who kept beating around the bush.
"When the rebel army began to fall apart, our guard retreated. It was going to be a massive project – tracking all of these rebel vampires and snuffing out all of this nonsense. We needed to recoup and to strategize.
"But, even these smaller factions of rebels were big, and some of the younger ones were still slaves to their thirst, too much to keep away from the city. In retrospect, it was a brilliant tactic – use the newborns to distract the guard, put them at ease, while the more skilled rebel fighters ambushed our men, and destroyed them.
"Mrs. Cullen, I left Volterra because, in the wake of this disaster, our government crumbled. Our guard was reduced to the cowards who had run away. My brother, Marcus, is dead. Caius has formed some unholy alliances, and has taken a great many of our most loyal supporters with him. Your husband was the only man I could think of to ask for refuge. He is a compassionate man."
"That he is," Esme agreed, her voice still steady, but her mind racing with questions.
Aro saw the quizzical look on her face. "Ask away," he said. "I would rather we open the lines of communication, than have you unjustly angry at me."
Esme bristled at that, but spoke nonetheless. "You are still afraid that these rebels seek your life."
"With Caius on their side, they are becoming less like guerrilla warriors and more organized. Undoubtedly, they search for me as we speak."
"And you still have the cell groups to contend with – the ones that got away?"
"Yes. I do not know if they are still in contact with whomever was leading the rebellion. Either way, they are dangerous. I have never seen the most precious of our laws hanging so precariously in the balance."
"We will be exposed." Esme sat in quiet, letting the full brunt of the sad truth sink in. She had already seen her family scattered – she couldn't bear the idea of losing them to angry humans. Humans were genius creatures; they could come up with a way to destroy vampires, if so inclined.
Aro broke the silence. "We don't have the resources – not yet – to stop this. I did not ask your husband to leave, but I want you to know that he will be indispensible, if we are to succeed."
"No, you didn't ask him," Esme conceded. She looked up, and then stood. "I owe you an apology, sir. I let my emotions get the best of me, and I was unforgiveably rude to a houseguest."
"You are entirely forgiven, Mrs. Cullen." Aro nodded simply, and picked up a newspaper from the coffee table – searching once more for what could possibly be going wrong in the outside world. The conversation was over.
Esme walked out of the room with a lot on her mind, and a sad stirring in her heart.
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