Chapter 9: Lead Us Not Into Temptation

"Yes, Aro?" Alice asked tersely, entering the pavilion. "You wanted to see me?"

"Bethany should not be long in returning," he said, expression still furious from Chelsea's departure. "I need you to be back to full strength tonight – I have some requests to make of you."

Bethany… Bethany was the guard sent out to round up humans for immortal Volterra's next feeding.

"Then maybe I should go hunting now," Alice replied quietly.

"No, no. You will be feeding with the rest of the guard," Aro cut her off swiftly. "Come with me."

Alice hesitated, the twinges of Jasper's desperation still tugging at her heartstrings. "I'm not sure that that's such a good idea."

"Alice, do not make me call somebody to drag you in."

"Aro," Marcus called calmly. "Allow me. We will be there by the time Bethany arrives." Taking Alice by the elbow, he propelled her out of the pavilion and back into the catacomb corridor. "Alice," he continued softly, "It is over. There is nothing left to fight Aro with. If you do not cooperate, he will simply get Felix and Demetri to hold you down and force the blood down your throat." He paused.

Alice shook her head slowly. "Jasper…" she whispered.

"Jasper is gone," Marcus murmured. "Nobody knows where he is. Aro alone knows, and he will never, never release him."

"No," Alice repeated. "I need Jasper…" Her voice cracked. "I need him. Aro knows – Aro knows –"

"Aro is beyond caring," Marcus replied. "Listen to me. It will be much easier on you if you go willingly. It will do you no good to cry."

"But…"

"Alice, are you listening to me?"

"Yes, I am," she snapped suddenly, her patience worn through. "You are not listening to me." With that, she turned away from Marcus and stalked into the catacombs.

*~*~*

She was ignoring him. How could she be that cruel? When he was crying for her, screaming with anguish without her?

Maria's silky voice whispered in his ear. You can't change who you are. You can't be who she expects you to be. Fish can't fly – that's why they swim. They swim to be with their own kind, no matter how badly they might want to fly. A fish out of water is a death sentence.

God, even his demons sounded like Maria now.

As his lips touched hers lightly, it was as though, for a brief moment, the world was perfect.

"Don't worry, Jasper," she whispered to him, her fingers trailing over his face and neck to bring him closer. "I'm safe. I'm not here to hurt you…"

But she had. She had pulled him out of the water and into the clouds, making him think, for the longest time, that just maybe fishes could grow wings. That maybe a cynical, world-weary soldier with a heart of stone could find a little bit of peace. Now he realized what had happened: he hadn't been flying – she had been carrying him, and they'd flown into a raging storm. And she had fallen to the ocean – back to where he was comfortable.

But birds don't swim. They'd drown, and he wasn't strong enough to rescue her. No mere fish could support a bird's weight for long.

You did this to yourself, Maria breathed again. Didn't I warn you? Didn't I warn you long before she ever existed that you can't escape your true nature? Secrets are terrible things to keep, my lovely Gaspar…

He snarled instinctively at the sound of his Mexican name. Gaspar had been a horrible person – concerned only for his own wellbeing. Gaspar had killed for no better reason than the rush it gave him to hear the agonized screams of his victims. Gaspar had turned on anybody who dared to trust him – including Maria, in the end. Gaspar had taken pleasure in torturing their newborns when they questioned his authority, or defied him. Gaspar had been Maria's favourite, because Maria valued ruthlessness, and sadism, and cold, hard reality.

But was Jasper really any better? Maria cooed triumphantly. Didn't Jasper do all the same things to perfectly innocent little humans? Didn't Jasper lock starving, dying men in wood shacks and light them on fire to hear them scream as they died?

"Shut up," he whispered with difficulty.

She doesn't know you at all, Maria continued, her voice viciously gentle. Caresses with the side of a knife, where the wrong movement would end with dismemberment. If she knew the things you'd done, if she knew what you were really like… you know she would run from that. She's too good – Maria's voice twisted obnoxiously on the word, as if it were the most disgusting word she'd ever uttered – for a monster like you. That's why you lie to her. Because you liked it when you were up in the air, looking down on the fishes like you were really better than them. She stroked your ego – she told you that you were good – Maria's voice broke off into derisive laughter – and that you were strong and handsome and worthy of that useless concept they call love.

"She loves me," he whispered miserably.

She loves the perfect man she made up in her head. Not the ugly, broken, cruel one she found wandering around Philadelphia in a rainstorm.

"No…"

She's endemoniado. They aren't capable of feeling like others are. Your entire… relationship… is one big lie and an even bigger delusion. Even if she was capable of love, what makes you think she would've chosen you? Your own father thought you were a throwback. Your own mother couldn't be bothered to call a doctor when he broke your arm.

Growling in frustration, Jasper smashed his fist angrily into the wall, a sick satisfaction passing through him as Maria faded away and the pain in his hand replaced her words.

The only person who ever truly loved you is dead, Maria whispered cruelly. And whose fault is that?

"Mine," he finally croaked, dry sobs breaking free.

Try and tell me that you're not a monster.

*~*~*

It was too dark to see properly in the passage. As Alice walked carefully along the wall, brushing her fingers against the crumbling stone façade, she kept 'listening' for Jasper's call. It had faded not long after her search had begun, but the anxiety and torment was enough to find him.

Oh, God, he needed her. She could feel the crushing weight of his self-hatred, and the closer she got to where he had to be, the heavier it got.

*~*~*

He was deep in the throes of emotional death when he heard the faint scraping sounds. By this point, though, he was beyond caring what happened to anybody. As he closed his eyes to shut out the possibility of sight, he tried to shut himself down entirely.

It was a familiar touch that brought him out of his stupor. A light, gentle hand gliding across his arm as a soft body sidled in beside him and the caress of plump lips on his own.

She whispered into his ear, "You stop thinking right now, because whatever it is, it isn't good for you."

Obediently, he stopped his train of thought and simply accepted the careful kisses that were being peppered across his face. They were accompanied by shots of tenderness and love, so he would accept this new delusion for as long as it chose to stay.

"There's nothing wrong with you," she whispered.

She lies, Maria hissed.

"You're not the same person you were. You are a good person, who got caught in a terrible situation. You did what you had to do to survive. That's not who you are."

Listen to how she tries to make you perfect, Jasper, Maria breathed. You know, I know, hell, everybodyelse in this damn world knows that you are about the furthest thing from perfect. And yet still she spins pretty little lies designed to make you look like the man she wanted in the 1920s when she first woke up.

"I'm not," he moaned softly in agreement with Maria.

"You're not listening to me," she breathed in his ear. With those words came a mind-numbing amount of love and pent-up lust – so much of it that his hold on himself snapped and he threw himself headfirst into a rather mindless pillage of the body trapped in here with him.

*~*~*

The sudden ferocity with which he pounced on her was terrifying, to say the least. He'd never been this desperate in their entire century of life together – never.

"Shh, shh, Jasper, calm down," she whispered anxiously, trying to keep her cool. "Shh…" Frantically, she stroked his cheek, a gesture which had always worked in the past but failed to work now. "Jazz, baby, listen to me. Jazz." Sighing, she found herself left with no choice but to find the weak spot in his throat – a wound from Mexico that had never healed properly – and press in with all her strength.

He dropped like a sack of potatoes from her, a pained cry escaping his lips. His body was trembling from head to toe as she curled up next to him comfortingly. She knew he didn't like having an Achilles' heel, especially one that caused him so much pain. She was the only person he had ever allowed to have the knowledge of the danger behind that tiny little nick in the base of his throat – it looked like a simple scar to a casual observer – and to use it against him was a deep betrayal.

"I'm sorry, baby," she whispered to him. "It was the only way to make you stop." Taking a deep breath to try and calm herself down as well, she kissed the spot lightly. "I'm sorry."

"Please," he whispered raggedly after a moment. "Even if you're just a figment of my delusional mind, I need you…"

"I'm not a hallucination," she replied with a soft laugh, "and you can always have me for the rest of our lives. But I don't like you attacking me like that. Now kiss me and make me forget that this has been the worst week of my life."

There was a low chuckle from his throat. "Are you feeling better, then?" he asked in amusement.

*~*~*

If delusions were always this lovely, he'd gladly take the madness. And this delusion smelled like Alice, talked like Alice, sounded like Alice, felt like Alice…

She laughed slightly, the air escaping from her mouth and breezing across his skin. "More like for right now, I have slightly more sensible priorities. I still feel like hell, and my self-control is next to nil. I freaked out at Marcus."

"Marcus?" he asked in astonishment. "What did poor Marcus ever do to you?"

"Marcus tried to convince me that there's no point in fighting Aro anymore, and that I should just forget about you." There was outrage in every syllable she spoke.

"That'd probably be a healthy choice, to forget about me," he commented gravely.

"No. That's about the most unhealthy thing I could ever do. It's ultimately suicidal. Kiss me already."

"Alice, sweetheart, I'm not good –"

"Are you having flashbacks of Edward and Bella? Because I definitely am."

*~*~*

Sometime later, it was clear that the thirst was getting the upper hand again, as she tensed and whimpered in his arms. He could feel her fists clench tight as she buried her face into his neck.

"I'm sorry, Lissy, I'm sorry I'm making you go through this," he whispered, rubbing her back. "Baby, I'm sorry…"

"Don't talk," she moaned into his skin. "I might say something I'm going to regret…"

Sighing, he shut up obediently and listened to the silence surrounding their dark, enclosed space. Faintly, ever so faintly, he could hear the sounds of high-heeled shoes clicking down the pathway and could smell the faint aroma of –

He jumped into action a split-second too late, as Alice finally lost control and smashed through the stone wall to pounce on the unsuspecting human woman.

She had drained the woman completely by the time Jasper managed to drag her away from the body – and by then, it was far too late.