A/N: Hi, my faithful readers! Here's Jessamine's story for you. I kept much of it very similar to the original story line, save a few differentiating gender roles—antiquated, Edythe would call them ;)

I hope you enjoy, and I'll see you at the end!

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I had never been so afraid of frightening Beau away with the truth. The only other time that came close had been the day I'd brought him home to meet my family and told him of our history. Jessamine's story, by far, was more atrocious than any of the rest of ours. Even in my rebel days, I hadn't come anywhere close to the monstrosity that my sister had been exposed to, and was forced to be a part of.

While Royal's story had been terrible and brutal, it only illustrated what human monsters were capable of. The wooing of his eventual murderess—in theory—and the horrible beating he'd endured were almost as heartbreaking as the hopes and dreams that had been torn from his hands. Royal had lived a gilded life, sheltered from the despair of the Depression, with his banker father, his mother, and his two sisters, whom he'd adored and doted on.

When he met Reese King, his parents approved immediately. They knew the Kings to be a prosperous family—and with Reese's father as head of bank, Royal would be next in line to take over once he retired. Mr. King was pleased with Royal's work ethics and appearances both, and he approved of him immediately for his daughter.

Though Royal craved the luxuries of a wealthy and successful life, there was a very large part of him that wanted a family to support and love. That had all been vanquished on one unfortunate night.

He'd lingered at work, late one night, and on his way home, he happened upon his fiancée, roaming the streets alone. She unwittingly led him into a secluded alley, where he happened across her rendezvous with her mafia lover there. Afraid for her reputation, Reese sic'd her lover and his men on him. With their various weapons, they beat him nearly to death, and left him to fade in the streets.

Carine smelled the blood; she'd been working as a nurse at the local hospital at the time, and I'd been posing as Earnest's younger sister. She found him bleeding in the streets, and recognized his battered and swollen face. Heartbroken over the potential loss, she decided to change him.

But Jessamine's story… Jessamine's story was so much worse, because it epitomized the depravity of what our kind was capable of. Royal's murderers had been mortal, weak and small. But the monsters in Jessamine's life had been anything but—and once, she'd been a monster, too.

Beau listened quietly as Jessamine spoke of the difference between the Northern and Southern covens, laying the backstory's foundation before she elaborated upon her own. She painted a picture for Beau of the way the world had been—how it still remained, for many of our kind. With people as nothing more than objects to feed on, and land simply territory to be claimed.

She touched briefly on the Volturi's role in everything, how they'd strived to keep the battling covens in check, and no one could miss the respect in her voice when they spoke of them. I understood, of course, her reasoning behind it. Despite their intentions to destroy anyone who threatened their reign or did not enforce their rules, Jessamine respected them for the force they were. It made sense that she would cling to that hope in a world where she'd had so little. To know the Volturi, meant she knew there was a limit, an end to the monstrosity.

"They are the only ones the southern covens fear. If not for the Volturi, the rest of us would be quickly exposed."

Beau listened quietly, not speaking, as Jessamine compared The North, as she called it. She talked about the stereotypical way the Southerners lived—only coming out at night, spending the day hidden while they plotted and schemed. The Southerners had truly lived as stereotypical vampires: hiding from the sun, with no repute for human life. Jessamine compared the way they regarded the humans as herds of cattle by the wayside—food, and nothing but that.

Beau had yet to react, to speak, until Jessamine gave a name to one of the characters from her story.

"…But the most effective tactic was invented by a vampire by the name of Benita. She was fairly young—only a century old—and she made quite an entrance." She chuckled quietly to herself. "As far as anyone knows, she heralded from somewhere north of Dallas and massacred the two small covens that shared the area near Houston. Two nights later, she took on the much stronger clan of allies that claimed Monterrey in northern Mexico. Again, she emerged victorious."

Beau shook his head slowly, his eyes wide with… Fear? Fascination? I couldn't tell the difference. Jessamine was so deeply committed to her story that she had pushed her gift to the wayside for the time being. "How?" Did he notice that his voice was quaking? "How did she do it?"

The corner of Jessamine's lips pulled up into an almost crafty smirk. "Newborns," she said, her voice ominous, "Benita had created an army of newborn vampires. No one else had ever come up with such an idea, and at first, she was unstoppable. Newborns are very powerful, very strong. Put ten or fifteen together and they'll easily wipe out an entire coven—but they are also very difficult to control. Just as easily as they would turn on the enemy, they would destroy each other." I watched Beau's face carefully for a response—fear, anxiety, anger, determination?—but his face remained impassive. If it weren't for his hammering pulse and shallow breaths, I would have believed he was entirely unaffected by Jessamine's story-telling.

"Benita was forced to create more of the savages as they continued to annihilate each other. That, and to refresh her force as the covens they destroyed took half of her own comrades down with them.

"You see, though newborns are a force to be reckoned with, it is possible to destroy them. If you know what you're doing. Though strong, they are entirely subjugated by their instincts, and therefore, their moves can be easily predicted. Their muscle and ferocity allows them to crush an older vampire with ease. But where they rule in strength, they lack in discipline.

"The vampires in southern Mexico heard of the uproar, of course, and fearing their own downfall, began to make armies of their own…

"And thus—Hell's floodgates opened. Chaos erupted. The skies were thick with lavender smoke—a telltale sign of burning vampire parts—and the bodies of the humans used to quench the newborns' thirst reached unprecedented proportions. There were so many deaths, in fact, that human historians blamed the population slump on disease.

"Of course, word got back to Sulpicia, and she finally took action." Beau visibly flinched when Jessamine mentioned the Volturi, and I had been expecting this reaction. Though he knew their threat to be very real, he couldn't possibly comprehend the reality of what Jessamine had witnessed. While this, very likely, seemed like a story to him, Sulpicia and her guard were a very real threat to him.

Still, Sulpicia had done her part in rectifying the issue. Had it not been for her quick and thorough action, who knows what would have become of not only our world, but the human world as well?

"The entire guard came together—one of the two times they've ever done so; so exceedingly rare is the necessity—and destroyed the rebelling covens. They began with Benita's army, and continued with the rest.

"The guard spent nearly a year in the bottom half of North America—annihilating any vampire they came across. Their demolition was so great and far-reaching that, for a time, Mexico was completely void of our kind.

"Of course, once the guard returned to Italy, the armies began to build themselves anew. Of course, they were more careful now, aware of the potential retribution. The comrades were selected with more care, and given more extensive training. While the humans remained all but oblivious, the Volturi remained satisfied that they were now following the rules, and saw no reason to repeat their eradication.

"Of course, there were times when various covens raised human suspicion, and Sulpicia would send her guard to do away with them; but for the most part, the others remained inconspicuous, and were allowed to continue on with their ways…"

She paused for a very brief moment, lost in thought, and I saw the recognition animate Beau's face.

"That's how you were changed," he realized.

"Yes," Jessamine acknowledged.

I wanted her to stop there—surely Beau had comprehended the larger picture, and there was no need for her to go on, but I knew now that he'd heard half of the story, it was only reasonable to share the rest.

"We lived in Houston, Texas—and I was almost seventeen when the Civil War broke out in 1861. My father had died when I was young, so it was only my mother and I. From what I remember, we were quite close.

"I did what I could to contribute to the war efforts at the time. Because there were no men in our family to enlist, I encouraged others to recruit. From what we now know of my gift, it must have manifested as something like charisma or persuasion in my human life. I was able to encourage many to enroll—speaking in every public place I could. There were not many who did not heed my urgings.

"The war continued without ceasing. As much as I hoped it would be over quickly, my prayers went unanswered. More people were dying, and I learned of the horrid ways of the Union armies. I feared for my mother's wellbeing while I was away doing what I could to help—supplying the armies with food, clothing and other necessities. My days of volunteering were long, and I worried about my mother being left alone in our home. I acquired the means to purchase a pistol, for protection.

"But I felt as if there were still more I could do to help. So I took on a more active roll in the war, and signed up as a nurse. I joined the Sanitary Commission, working my way to the front lines—to aid the fallen and the wounded soldiers in our makeshift hospitals.

"It was not a common thing for a girl as young as I to be recruited in the nurses' efforts. Dorothea Dix called for matronly, responsible women whose youth and indecorous ways would not distract the troops. Most of the women recruited were over thirty years of age. I was younger than that by a long shot—even though I lied about my age. Another example of my power of inducement, I suppose.

"In the times of quiet and absence of busy-ness, I often took a horse down to the river and built a fire. By its light, I wrote to my mother about my days, encouraging her to continue her volunteering at home; I'd found myself able to convince her to join the efforts before I'd enlisted."

Jessamine paused for a moment, orienting her emotions and forcing back the sudden surge of bitterness she felt when she remembered the night she'd been changed. Long ago, she had surmised that, somehow, the vampires who had found her had somehow sensed her extra abilities—and because of it, regarded her as too special to waste. Over time, she'd grown to embrace her gift, but in the beginning, she'd only resented it.

At first, she'd regretted the talent that had set her apart from the others—vexed by her differentiation. But it had been a very long time since she'd felt that way; she knew that if she'd lived a normal life, she never would have met Archie, and she couldn't imagine her life without him. Despite her contentedness, she couldn't help but wonder, what if?

What if I'd been as unassuming as the rest of them? she wondered now, Would they still have chosen me if I'd been just another regular nurse? Would they have changed me if they hadn't sensed the gift that set me apart? What if I'd never enlisted in the first place; if I'd stayed home with my mother and continued to help behind the lines?

"This is where I was the night they found me," she finally continued, though her inner musings had only silenced her for half a moment, barely enough time for Beau to notice. "I did not hear their approach; one minute I was alone, and the next the three of them were standing in front of me.

"Three men stood there by the river, watching me with curious expressions. I was immediately struck by their beauty, and for an instant, I believed them to be angels.

"'This one appears as if alone,' the tallest man said. His hair was the color of straw, his skin porcelain.

"The second was blond as well, and he took a step forward, leaning toward where I crouched warily by the fire. 'Mmm,' he breathed, inhaling deeply, 'Wonderful… But she's just one. How shall we decide who claims her?'

"I was too afraid to speak. I wondered if these were stragglers from Galveston, left behind in the recent evacuation efforts—or maybe worse. The renegades I'd been warned of."

I felt the potent wave of calm she sent out then, and I wondered if it was for Beau's sake, or hers. However, no amount of calm she exuded could quite keep my panic at bay. How much would she say? The details of each of our changes were violent and traumatic, and though I knew Beau deserved to know the details of what he would endure, I couldn't help the instinct to shelter him.

"The slimmer one," she continued, "A dark haired man with eyes the color of onyx, held up his hand to stop the others' advance. I'd always had a good sense of how people related to each other, and it was immediately clear that the dark-haired man was somehow in charge of the others.

"'No,' he said thoughtfully, 'I think I want to keep this one.' This seemed to surprise the other men.

"The taller one balked. 'A young girl?' he inquired dubiously, 'But Miguel—I thought we were in search of soldiers. What good will an ill-trained nurse do us?'

"'Don't you sense it, Ned? She's… Special…' the dark man eyed me with unmistakable greed—and it terrified me.

"'Ah,' Ned said then, his black eyes widening, 'Yes, I see…'

"Again, Miguel held up a hand, and the two blonds stepped back obediently.

"'You'd better do it, Miguel,' the taller blond said quietly, 'You know I can only be trusted half of the time.'

"Miguel nodded, and then ordered the other two away. Somehow, this terrified me even more. My instincts told me there was danger, that the angel had meant what he said when he spoke of killing, but my judgment overruled my instincts. My mother had taught me to respect others, to always think the best of them… I suppose that may have been my downfall…"

"Miguel demanded to know my name. Stunned by paralyzing fear, I found myself unable to speak, and he asked me again.

"'What is your name, girl?' he demanded softly, almost smiling. My trembling fear did not seem to deter him.

"Somehow, I knew I was about to die—that, or endure something worse than death for a woman of my time. Suddenly, it seemed important he knew my name, where I'd come from. 'I'm Jessamine Whitlock,' I told him, 'I'm a nurse for the Civil Army, and I've left my mother at home in Houston, Texas…'

"Miguel stroked his chin, appraising me. When his eyes met mine again, he reached out a hand. When I didn't take it, he gripped me underneath the elbow—his skin was frigid, even through the layers of my uniform!—and yanked me harshly to my feet. 'I have a good feeling about you, Jessamine Whitlock,' he said when I was standing, trembling, in front of him. 'I hope you survive.'

"He took a step closer, and tilted his head as if to kiss me. I stood frozen in place, unable to think through the panic crippling my mind. Every one of my instincts told me to run, but I could do nothing but stand there…"

I opened my mouth to interrupt, but of course, Jessamine had already sensed my building tension. She sighed quietly, and flicked her eyes quickly to my face and then back to Beau's. Fine, she thought, I'll spare him the details for now—but I truly think it would do him good to be made aware before his change. The more prepared he is, the better he'll cope, likely.

"A few days later, I was introduced to my new life."

I exhaled, grateful for her censorship.

"The men who'd found me had been working together simply for convenience. Ned and Lonnie were simply a part of Miguel's plan to create a larger army. It was Miguel's idea to search for humans with more than usual promise, like myself." She smiled wryly. "He worked to train us in the skill of combat, and to keep out of the human eye. When we did well, we were rewarded…"

Of course, there was only one type of reward newborn vampires were interested in—blood. I was glad when she spared the unnecessary details and continued quickly.

She went on to explain the quick addition of Miguel's other soldiers—mostly former members of the Civil War; men with promising experience from their human lives. Jessamine had been the one exception, and Miguel had learned quickly not to regret the decision he'd made to change her.

At the time, the concept of women fighting was outrageous, but in the vampire world, gender roles were quickly vanquished. Females and males alike were equal in strength. Because of her size and gender, the other newborns tended to pick on her in the beginning. Along with all the other pieces of their humanity, the newborns had abandoned their sense of chivalry behind with their human lives. Out of necessity for survival, Jessamine fought hard to advance through the ranks. She suspected she might have had a preternatural disposition for fighting, as it came quite easily to her.

Miguel was impressed with her natural disposition for warfare, and quickly named her as his second in command. He was careful not to make his neophytes aware of a better life—he was selfish, and he was merciless, and he wanted Jessamine's skill and charisma all to himself.

It was soon after she was put in charge of the group of newcomers that she discovered her formerly persuasive charisma from her human days had morphed into the ability to manipulate the emotional atmospheres around her. This made it easier to keep them under control, and soon, the disunity came to an end, which pleased Miguel. Having to replace the newborns because of their own overactive tempers perturbed him.

"I followed each of his orders blindly—never having known any better. My entire world revolved around him; he was everything to me, everything I'd ever known, and I was eager to please him," Jessamine continued, "He was ecstatic when I drew together an army of twenty-three exceedingly resilient newborns, systematized and incredibly skilled.

"Miguel led us down to Monterrey, where he'd lived before, and unleashed us on his adversaries. We obliterated them easily. Miguel was astonished at the ease with which we destroyed them; we only lost four in the process. Such a surpassing triumph had never before been heard of.

"In a single night, the city changed hands—and no humans took notice of the overthrow.

"Of course, Miguel's hunger for power made him greedy, and the taste of success had him extending his control until he governed over most of Texas and northern Mexico… That was when the others came from the South to expel him…"

She paused, idly brushing the scars on her arms, thinking of her fallen comrades.

"The fighting was… Unimaginably intense," she said softly, her tawny eyes faraway, her thoughts a flickering picture show of the events from her past. I watched Beau's face carefully as she went on. His eyes were wide and full of compassion as she spoke, and I reached over to brush my hand over the back of his. "Many began to worry that the Volturi would return to put an end to our brutality, but miraculously, no one came…

"Of the original twenty-three, I was the only one to survive the first eighteen months…"

A sort of memorial shimmered in her thoughts, remembering the fledglings she'd trained, the first of many, unique in all their promise and newness.

"Eventually Ned and Lonnie turned on Miguel—and I noticed when their steadfast emotions shifted. We took them down with a simplicity that was ludicrous.

"And so, Miguel and I continued as we were in Monterrey. The wars eased some, but never ceased. The motives were predominantly due to retribution and dispute now, rather than the idea of occupation. Many had lost their mates in the wars, and this is something our kind has no tolerance for…"

When Jessamine began to speak of her responsibility to dispose of the newborns when they were no longer of use, I heard Beau's breath catch, and I slid a comforting arm around his waist.

He's fine, she assured me, It's concern and empathy he's experiencing—not distress.

Thankfully, she skipped over the brutality of one of the worst things she'd ever been forced to do, moving on to her friendship with one of the vampires who had always been more civil, Patricia.

"It was just over thirty years later when I developed a kinship with a newborn who'd remained promising, and had survived her first three years, against all odds. Miguel seldom kept female soldiers on hand, but he had begun to relax his stance—trusting me to be able to train anyone who was assigned to my instruction.

"Patricia and I grew close quickly. She was more domestic than the others—able to retain an unusual amount of empathy from her human life, especially in the newborn stages. She didn't enjoy the battling—I knew this, of course—but she hid it well from the others. She was very good at what she did, and she was trusted to take on a higher status—as a caregiver, of sorts, for the newborns…

"Eventually, the time came to purge again. The newborns were losing their unmatched strength and ferocity. Purging nights were always very long, and they always took a great toll on me—for I could feel the emotions of each vampire I drew aside and destroyed. The suspicion, the fear, the despair when they realized what was happening… I felt it all, too…

"Patricia was never one to push her words on anyone, but this night, she did her best to convince me that a few had potential, and that we should set them aside. But Miguel wouldn't have been pleased, and I stood my ground.

"This night of expunging had been taking more of a toll on Patricia than was usual. I could feel her growing tension and despair as the night went on, and I debated sending her away, finishing up on my own, as I called forth the next victim. To my great astonishment, a swell of passionate anger, even rage, rose inside her. I hadn't a clue what to make of it, baffled by whatever had triggered her sudden abrupt-face, and prepared to fight her.

"The newborn I'd summoned was a male, just past his year mark. His name was Charles, and her feelings changed when he came into view; her emotions betrayed her. I knew in an instant what had occurred—the two had fallen in love. She shrieked at him to run, and stunned as I was by this impossible occurrence, I stood frozen as she fled after him. I thought about pursuing them, knowing I would be able to take both of them down easily, but something stopped me… I was fond of Patricia, and it disturbed me to contemplate destroying her…

"Miguel was irritated with me for that, but I could never bring myself to regret letting the two escape…"

Jessamine's expression grew troubled as she described the dark days following Patricia's insurgence—her increasing despondency, and her weakening tolerance for the brutality of that lifestyle. The trust between herself and Miguel had begun to wane, and she began to notice suspicious changes in his emotional atmosphere. She was preparing for the worst choice she would have ever had to make up until that point—to destroy the only true confidant she'd ever known, the man her world had revolved around, though she would never call her feelings toward him love… To destroy him, or prepare to be destroyed herself.

Before she'd had to make her decision, Patricia returned for her.

"Patricia told me of her new life with Charles, and the options I'd never dreamed of having… In the half-decade that had passed, the two had never been involved in battle, though they'd met many others in the North—others who were able to co-exist without the relentless anarchy.

"We discussed for all of ten minutes—and I was convinced. I knew nothing other than the life of war I'd been raised in, but there was enough hope in Patricia's emotional atmosphere that it had me optimistic, eager for a better life…"

That was the first time I saw her since I'd woken from my change, Archie mused, his eyes gentle with tenderness for his wife. Though she couldn't hear his thoughts, she could feel the love he was projecting, and she turned to smile softly at him. I still had years of waiting left to do, but she made the choice that night that would eventually lead her to me.

As Jessamine spoke of the years she'd traveled with Patricia and Charles, I expected the familiar atmosphere of her self-loathing and despairing guilt to make themselves apparent in her thoughts, but they didn't come. She spoke of the unceasing depression, and her struggle to grasp hold of a life more humane than the one she'd left—and all of it, she recited as if rote, as if it were mere textbook history she'd memorized, as if she'd somehow been able to separate herself from the emotions in these few moments.

"I went as long as I could without taking life, but my thirst would ultimately overcome me and I would surrender to the urge. After a century of instant gratification, I found self-restraint… difficult. I still haven't achieved that."

She was lost in the story, the images in her mind shifting from the melancholy days of her hopeless depression, to a rainy day outside a café in Philadelphia.

"I wandered for a time apart from my friends—fearing my melancholy mood was burdening them, and I found myself in Philadelphia…" She smiled gently up at Archie then. "It was an overcast day—a storm coming, and I was out during the day. I'd been trying my hand at the Northern way." She gave a short laugh. "But it still wasn't something I was entirely comfortable with yet. When the rain came, I knew I would attract attention if I remained in the outdoors, so I ducked into a little half-empty diner. I hadn't fed for some time, so my eyes were dark enough that they wouldn't draw attention—though this meant I was thirsty, of course, and being in such close proximity to humans set me a bit on edge."

Jessamine gave a little laugh, and then regarded her husband with loving eyes once more. "He was there, of course—he'd been waiting for me. He slid from the booth at the back of the diner and waltzed right up to me, a friendly smile on his open face. And his eyes—the strangest color, like jewels I remember likening them to. I'd never seen this disparity in any other vampire, and I immediately had my guard up. Was this some other species? Did he mean to attack?

"But, as I said before, he was smiling—and the emotions that were radiating from him were like nothing I'd ever felt before…" In her mind, Archie had been the picture of perfection—striding toward her across the small space, his beatific face pure and absolutely radiant. Her memory of their first moment, reflected in his own eyes as she gazed adoringly up at him, was so intimate, so personal, that I felt as if I were intruding just by listening.

I've never known a day when I've not loved you, he thought now, with such ardor it pulsed like a physical force, directly from his heart to hers.

"You said, 'I've been waiting for you a long time, little lady.'" Jessamine did not take her eyes off Archie's, lost in the inexorable clouds of his adoration.

"And you lifted your skirts and curtsied like a fine Southern belle and said, 'Please forgive me'." Archie chuckled at the memory.

"You offered me your hand, and though I'd never known anything but a life of violence and betrayal, I took it. And as you drew my knuckles to your lips, I felt hope for the first time in almost a century." Her voice was serious, quiet as Archie took her hand and replicated the same gesture he'd performed the day they'd met.

"You know, for awhile there, I thought you'd never show up… Maybe I was just a tad impatient."

Jessamine giggled. "Just a little…" She turned back to Beau, refocusing her attention. "He told me what he'd seen of Carine and her family, and I could hardly comprehend that such an existence might be possible for our kind. He taught me how to hunt animals." She wrinkled her nose, remembering her first encounter with an elk. "And as we got to know each other, we made our way to the Cullens."

"Scared the hell out of them when you showed up," Eleanor interjected then. "Edy and I were out hunting, so we missed out on all the fun, but Jess shows up, covered head to toe in battle scars, towing this scrawny freak"—she shouldered Archie playfully—"who saunters right up and says, 'Hey, I'm Archie. You're Carine, Earnest, and Royal. Edythe and Eleanor are away hunting… How goes it?'. Wants to know everything about us, and then asks which room he can move into."

I didn't see the point in asking—I'd already seen that Carine would invite us to stay.

Archie and Jessamine laughed together, bass and soprano.

I found my voice then, laughing softly. "When I got home, all my things were in the garage."

Archie shrugged. "Your room had the best view."

We all laughed again. Archie's smile was the first to fade.

I still don't get it… Why didn't I see this coming…? "An army?" Archie said to Jessamine. "Why didn't you mention it sooner?"

"I thought I must have been mistaken," Jessamine defended herself, eyes wide. "None of it added up—there was no reason for it. No history, no crusade; it makes no sense from a conquest angle, either. No one has any current claim over it." She shook her head, perplexed. "But the obviousness of it is impossible to ignore. I am confident now that there is a newborn army in Seattle. More than a dozen, fewer than two, I would ascertain. And whoever created them gave them no warning, no instruction… There is only one way this will be brought to an end…" The Volturi will come if we do not abolish them. I'm surprised they've let it go on this long…

"What can we do?" Carine wondered fretfully.

Jessamine shook her head morosely. "I'm afraid we have no choice but to destroy them—if we want to avoid the Volturi's involvement."

I heard Beau's breath catch, and his arm wound around my waist, pulling me tight to his side. I stroked his forearm soothingly, thinking the mention of the Volturi must have set him on edge.

"We'll have to take action soon—but I believe there will be enough time to teach you the necessary maneuvers. However, it won't be an easy thing to keep discrete in the city—and it will limit us in ways they won't be… If there were only a different way…" If we could even lure them a few miles from the city…

Eleanor was getting excited, running through every tactic she'd only ever had to use in her roughhousing endeavors. But my mind was quickly formulating a very different picture.

"Maybe there is," I mused. "What you said—about the formation of newborn armies being for one thing only…?" I lifted my eyes to Jessamine's. "The only other grouping anywhere close to Seattle is…"

Jessamine's eyes narrowed into slits. "Us," she finished. Of course! It's obvious!

"That can't be," Earnest interjected, shaking his head. There has to be other possibilities. Perhaps… "Tanvir's family is not far." He didn't want to admit that we might have been the inadvertent cause for so much bloodshed.

"We're a large coven of strong fighters, with diverse gifts," I contradicted him gently, shaking my head, "We're the only target that makes sense."

"They can't be coming after us," Archie argued, "I would have seen that… Unless… They don't know that they are… Yet." He clenched his eyes shut and tapped his fist against his temple, as if trying to dislodge something that was stuck there.

A sudden storm of indistinct, flickering images blew through his mind—so quickly I could hardly see one image before it switched to the next: a group of vampires, diving off Seattle's docks, the same group zipping through the forest, a familiar red t-shirt—Beau's—held in the slim, porcelain hands of an unfamiliar female vampire… A flicker of… Fire?

"What is that?" I asked him, perplexed. "What are you seeing?"

"Just flashes," he said, unable to get a solid grip on them. His face crumpled with frustration. "I can't get anything concrete, nothing solid. It's like—someone's changing their mind, jumping from one course of action to another so quickly that I can't get a good look at the first choice before it's gone…"

"As if they're indecisive?" Jessamine asked in disbelief. That can't be right. Whether their actions involve any sort of forethought, newborns act on almost instinct alone… Indecision wouldn't make a difference.

"I don't know…" Archie rapped his knuckles against his head even harder, clenching his eyes shut in concentration. The images came once more, each hazy, inarticulate image sending a jolt of pain through his head as he attempted to focus. What am I missing?!

"It's not indecision," I realized, and my voice sounded numb as I went suddenly still underneath Beau's arm. "They're using knowledge to their advantage… Knowledge of your gift, knowledge of its loopholes. Whoever it is knows you can't see anything until a decision is made. They're hiding from us."

"Who the hell would know that?"

The weight of unease settled deep in my belly. No one knew Archie's gift better than Archie—except myself, because I could see directly into his thoughts… "Sulpicia might," I suggested, remembering the fascination she'd had over Archie's gift, the glimpses of its evidence in my thoughts she'd had, even before she'd formally met him.

Archie shook his head, frustrated. "I would have seen if she'd decided to send someone. We've been over that!"

But didn't he see, that was exactly my point? "Unless they don't want blood on their hands…" I hinted, arching a brow at him.

To my great surprise, it was Royal who understood first. "A favor. Someone in the South… someone who already stepped in it, who would have done anything to get a second chance… If they took care of this one small problem, maybe they'd be let off the hook… That would explain the Volturi's indolence." He scoffed quietly, disgusted. Royal only knew too much of the measures one would go to, in order to avoid the destruction of their own destruction, physical or societal…

"Why?" Carine was baffled, entirely blind to the possible motives, despite the fact she knew the workings of the Volturi's ways. She knew of Sulpicia's malicious potential, but she stubbornly continued to believe she, just like every other person in this world, was inherently good and pure. It made her uneasy to think they would take such drastic, cruel measures for no other reason but to gain power. Of course, she had not heard the same craving for domination in Sulpicia's thoughts as I had. After all, Sulpicia had murdered her own husband in the pursuit of knowledge and prestige. She hadn't heard the fear and jealousy regarding Carine's growing family…

"There's no reason—"

I sighed softly, dejectedly. Carine heard me and stopped speaking at once.

Edythe?

"It was there in her thoughts," I said softly, and it made me sick to have to say the words out loud. "Only, I didn't expect for her to arrive at this conclusion so soon. It was only faint, a niggling… She hadn't really begun to consider it yet… The other thoughts were stronger… At first it was just me she saw, at her side. But then later, she added Archie to the picture, too. She considered it so quickly it was barely a flash in her mind, but I saw it. Her idea of the present, the past and the future, together. Essential omniscience. She wanted it very much—I would have assumed it would have taken her much longer to discard the plan…

"But then…" I looked into my mother's soft, ochre eyes, hating the idea of her innocence being destroyed purely for the sake of another's jealousy. "But then there was also the thought of you, Carine, of our family, growing stronger and larger… She was jealous and afraid—not that you had more than she, but… Things that she wanted." I would have said Gifts but it would have made it all too obvious, too painful. "She tried not to think about it, but she couldn't veil it completely. The idea of doing away with the competition was there; besides their own, our coven is the largest they've ever come across…"

Impossible, Carine thought, Sulpicia would never incite a battle without any other reason but jealousy… They instilled the rules millennia ago—they were entirely faithful to them… "They're too committed to their mission. They would never break the rules themselves. It goes against everything they've worked for."

"They'll clean up afterward." I felt my mouth twist indignantly. It would be all too easy for them—after all, they had enough power to sway others to believe their stories, especially if there were no witnesses to argue against them. "A double betrayal. No harm done."

Jessamine reached forward to touch my hand. "No." I've seen the brutality they can unleash—but I cannot believe they would act without provocation. "I think Carine is right. The Volturi do not break rules." Especially their own. "Besides, it's much too sloppy. This threat—they have no idea what they're doing. A first-timer, I could guarantee it." The mess, the human notice… The Volturi are much more methodical than this, Edythe. "I can't believe the Volturi are involved. But they will be." I have no doubts about this.

"Then let's go," Eleanor nearly begged, "What are we waiting for?" Nothing's gonna get solved if we just sit around here all day!

Carine's thoughts were frantic and agonized. There must be some other way than to simply destroy them… If whoever created them simply left them to their own devices, of course they would proceed in this fashion. If we could speak with them, reason with them, teach them of a better way…

Carine had spent centuries believing good was an underlying factor in the world—that for every anguished paid, there must be a resulting reward. She believed, no matter the sinister action, there was hope for every individual—that underneath every spiteful demeanor, was a craving to be good.

But as she struggled toward some sort of absolution, even she could not deny the inevitability of where and how this would end.

If this is the only foreseeable way, she concluded, I'll accept it—to protect my family.

Her eyes fell on mine, and I reached for her hand in response to her sudden change in mindset. "Thank you," I whispered.

Carine held her eyes on my face, somber with the burden of what would undoubtedly occur, but resolute in her steadfastness. She would do it, if it was what it took to keep her husband and children well. She held her hand to her bosom, heart breaking, and slowly turned to Jessamine.

"Yes," she finally said softly, and I could hear the disconsolate turmoil in her physical voice as well as her mind, "I see now that this is the only way… Will you teach us, Jessamine?" Teach us how to destroy them? she could barely speak the words in her mind, so much agony they caused her. She didn't dare speak them aloud.

"I'll do the best I can with the time we have left, but I don't want to risk anything—we will require assistance. Do you think Tanvir's family would be willing…?" She trailed off, hating to subject another familial coven to the brutality of war, but she was confident we would not succeed alone—at least, not entirely intact. "Another five mature vampires would give us an unprecedented advantage. And then Kirill and Elena would be especially beneficial on our side. It would almost be easy, with their aid."

"We'll ask," Carine said to her. Though the thought of involving anyone else bothered her, she could see the urgency in Jessamine's request, and knew she wouldn't have felt the need to ask if it weren't necessary.

Apologetics clear in her mental tones—she could see the hesitance in Carine's eyes—Jessamine offered her cell phone to our mother. "We'll need to hurry."

Carine nodded once and took the phone from her newest daughter. She crossed the room to the windows as she dialed the number, and then held the phone to her ear.

I wrapped both my arms around Beau's soft waist and rested my head on his chest, not having realized until now just how much I needed his unwavering support. I closed my eyes, counting the comforting beats of his heart, and the steady breaths that entered and expired from his lungs.

I felt his hand on my back, rubbing soft, calming circles, and I wondered what he was thinking.

Tanvir answered the phone.

"Hello, Tanvir. How do you do?"

"Carine! How lovely to hear from you! We are well—and your family?"

Carine hesitated for just a moment, and then drew a breath. "It seems we've found ourselves in a bit of a problematic condition," she admitted finally.

"I'm sorry to hear that." Tanvir's sympathy sounded genuine.

"I'm sure you've heard of the brutality in Seattle…"

"Yes. It's just awful," Tanvir said.

Carine explained the rest quickly—the details of our own conclusions, and Jessamine's suspicions of a newborn army—thankful her debriefing was cut short by their knowledge of the basic situation. "The reason I'm calling is to ask for your assistance, Tanvir," she finally requested, "Jessamine believes we'll have a much better chance of winning with your additional five."

Tanvir hesitated only briefly. "You know we think of you as family, Carine, and would come to your aid immediately in almost any situation, but I'm afraid our help is conditional at this present time."

"Conditional? For what reason?"

"I'm afraid Ivan set his eyes upon Lauren last spring. He had intended to propose, committed as he was. He was quite distraught to have learned of her death at the hands of the wolves… He still mourns her loss, Carine. I don't know if he'd be willing to come anywhere close to where the unthinkable occurred. In part, he blames your family's perplexing bond with the human your Edythe is so fond of." Tanvir didn't bother to hide his distaste.

A very unladylike word slipped from between my teeth.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, Tanvir," Carine said, taken aback, "We couldn't have conceived… that Ivan felt that way."

"Of course not… But we would reconsider our stance if you made an allowance on our part."

"Which is?"

"If you allowed us permission to destroy the wolves that destroyed Lauren, we would be happy to join you in Seattle."

"I'm sorry, no," Carine responded firmly. "That's not possible. We've made a truce, and we do intend to keep it. They have done nothing to break it, and neither will we. I'm sorry to hear that…" she hesitated, remorseful.

"That Ivan's soul mate was killed for despicable reasons? I am, too, Carine. My brother has been inconsolable since the event, and I don't know when or if he'll find peace. You must understand why we are forced to decline."

"Of course. We'll do what we can on our own." She snapped the phone shut without formally ending the call—distraught as she was over Tanvir's refusal to help. She was at once filled with a profusion of feeling and thought. For an instant, she was angry and indignant at Tanvir's refusal, but then another part of her was relieved that we would not have to subject his family, as well, to the risk. Finally, the dejected thoughts entered her mind.

I didn't want to put them up to this, of course, but I would have gladly accepted their help if they were so willing… I fear for my family's outcome now more than ever…

"What?" Beau hissed in my ear when no one spoke, "What happened?"

Eleanor and Jessamine, having overheard the conversation, didn't speak.

The furious flames rose inside me, hot and crippling. "Lauren," I snapped under my breath. "Damn her to the fiery pits of hell—she remains a thorn in our side, even after her destruction… It seems she and Ivan were something of an item. He holds a grudge against the wolves for destroying her to spare Beau. He wants—" I stopped myself, abruptly aware that my next words may cause Beau strife.

"What?" he demanded, eyes wide and vibrant— lucent and completely trusting.

I braced myself for his backlash. "He wants retribution; to abolish the pack. They would trade their help for our permission."

Beau visibly balked, his fists clenching at his sides.

"Carine would never allow it," I soothed him, loosening his tight fingers. I sighed, realizing no matter how much I craved the Denali coven's aid, I would never step aside either. After all, the pack had been here to safeguard Beau's life while I hadn't been, and I would forever owe them for their undue favor. "Nor would I. Lauren deserved her death, and I still owe the wolves for that."

Jessamine's thoughts were racing. She knew better than the rest of us what we were up against, and she had put a large wager on the assistance of Tanvir's family. "This is a serious blow to our confidence," she fretted, "It's too even a fight now, we're too even in numbers. Even with our upper hand in skill and age, I don't know…" She trailed off. "We'd win, but at what price?" She worried for every member of her family, of course, but her eyes were immediately on Archie's face.

I can't live without him…

.

A/N: I know some of you were disappointed that I didn't include Royal's story in Chapter 6, so I tried to squeeze a succinct summary in at the beginning of the chapter. Hope it lived up to your expectations!

Next chapter is one I think many of you have been anticipating, so keep an eye out for that :)

As always, thank you for your lovely reviews on the last chapter. I'd love to get your feedback on this one as well. xo