Chapter 11

It had not made sense at first. Who on Earth could have told the Volturi about the situation with Bella? There was no reason for anyone to tell them; there was no one she knew that wanted to hurt her or Edward that much.
Jane had never met the Volturi in person; she had only heard about them. She knew that they were like vampire royalty. They kept order amongst their kind, which included 'dealing' with situations such as this. Humans were not to know that vampires were not just the stuff of myths; that was a strict order. She also knew that their way of 'dealing' with things like this was to destroy all possibilities of things getting further than they already had. They would have to get rid of any and all evidence that a human knew about them, and then prevent it from happening again by extinguishing whatever had caused the problem in the first place.
In other words, either her, Edward, or both of them were in serious danger of being destroyed.
Vampires, as Jane had learned long ago during one of her many question-and-answer sessions with Carlisle, could not be killed in the same sense of the word as humans could be. They were not alive in the same way, so therefore their deaths were not the same. There was, as Carlisle had told her, only one proven way of destroying a vampire that was known in the world: one must rip him apart, then burn every piece separately to make sure that they did not reattach themselves. It was extremely unpleasant to think about, especially know that there was a very real possibility that it might happen to her.
"I am not going to let that happen to you," Edward said roughly, startling Jane. She hadn't even really realized what she'd been thinking about.
"Well it might happen!" Jane shouted back. After seeing his face, though, she immediately regretted her words. He looked absolutely horrified, especially since he could not deny it. "I'm sorry," she sighed. "I'm just edgy because of this whole thing…don't worry- I'm sure we will figure this all out."
She said it mostly to appease him, though. For all Jane knew, the Volturi would come for them without them ever figuring out a thing. She only hoped that they would just want her, and not Edward. She would have to convince them- whoever they were, she still didn't really know- that it was entirely her fault, and that Edward had had nothing to do with any of it. As long as they only destroyed her, she would be fine. She could not have him die too.
But because Edward would immediately grow angry whenever Jane's thoughts turned to something like that, she had taken to only pondering their situation when she was invisible. At least then, he could not hear her thoughts. She found herself spending a lot of time turning invisible. Actually, she could not remember the last time when she had used her skill this much. It had to have been when she was out on her own. It frustrated Edward and Alice, not getting to read her mind or see her future, respectively. But Jane figured it was for their own good. It was either this, or the anger she knew came from them knowing what she was holding in her mind.

For weeks, the entire family wondered incessantly who it could possibly have been that told the Volturi about them. Not one of the Cullens could talk of anything else; this was far too important. And none even had a clue who it could have been. That was…until the day the letter arrived for Jane.
It was such a simple, inoffensive thing: a piece of paper contained in a white envelope, her name scrawled on the front of it. There were only two words written on the paper: "I told."
It was so simple. Yet it told Jane everything she needed to know; and after reading it, a sudden coldness ran through her body. She would have recognized that handwriting anywhere, though it had been sixty years since she had last seen it. Immediately, she retreated back into her invisibility, knowing that Edward was listening in to the rapid thoughts firing through her mind. And he did not want to hear what she was thinking about now.

Jane strolled along the streets of a small Maryland town, passing signs in shop windows that all displayed similar slogans: "Support our troops!"; "Remember our boys overseas- send a care package today!"; "Grow a victory garden and help our country win the war!"
She sighed internally. The year was 1944, and World War II was in full swing. Everyone in the United States seemed to be involved somehow, whether it was men joining the army and going overseas, or women taking over everything back home. Either way, it was all that anybody could ever talk about. Jane, not involved with anything having to do with the war, sat by and watched as a passive observer.
Little did these humans know that there was a war going on in their very own backyard. None of them had any idea of the reason so many of their friends and neighbors kept disappearing without a trace, never to be heard from again, only being identified some time later through evidence left at the site of their deaths: mother's necklace, grandfather's pocket watch, the engagement ring that had been passed through his family for generations. They all attributed it to an accident; or, when it became more prevalent, to a serial killer.
Not one person would suspect it was the work of a tiny, soft-spoken sixteen-year-old girl with blood red eyes.
Of course, it wasn't like she was living among them. She was far too dangerous for that. Instead, she spent almost all of her time in the woods, only coming out when she needed to feed. But when she did show her face to the humans, it was obvious in the eyes of her victims that none of them suspected her to be the vicious killer that she was until it was already too late.
On that night, Jane was thoroughly bored of her surroundings. She was antsy, because she had gone too long without feeding once again. She always managed to go too long between hunts, constantly having to remind herself that she needed sustenance. But she hated hunting; it was a chore, rather than an enjoyment. After she had sated her thirst, she always felt guilty, and vaguely depressed. Everything was exhausting, and she needed some sort of change.
Walking through town, she passed by all of the buildings she'd come to know in the past couple of weeks since moving there: drugstore, library, run-down pub on the corner of the street. By chance, the door of the pub happened to be open. And she smelled something familiar coming from inside.
Jane immediately cocked her head to the side and sniffed the air to make sure that she was not just dreaming. But nope…there it was again. There among the heady fragrance of human blood, and the rather unappealing stench of alcohol, was the sweet scent of a vampire. It was unmistakable…but what was a vampire doing in the same small town as her- and in a bar, no less?
Immediately, Jane went inside to investigate. She felt awkward and unsure among the large, raucous men that dominated the place, but she trudged on in search of what she was looking for. She pushed past the drunken patrons, ignoring the whistles and catcalls that she knew, considering she seemed to be the only female there, were directed at her. She followed the scent, letting it lead her to an oddly silent corner of the bar where only one man- obviously good-looking even from her obscured view, and clearly not older than about twenty years old- sat, lazily spinning the cap of a beer bottle between his fingers and not drinking a thing.
When the air reached him, he looked up in obvious surprise. When he met Jane's gaze, she finally got a good look at him in the dim pub light. He had the wild, unsettled look of one that never stayed in one place very long; a wanderer, like herself. His blonde hair was unkempt, and the dusting of facial hair across his chin further added to his rugged appearance. Of course, it was the crimson eyes that told Jane all that she needed to know. They seemed to pierce her as he stared at Jane unabashedly, smiling a wide, predatory sort of grin that sent an interesting thrill up her spine.
"I didn't think I'd ever meet anyone like you around here," he said in greeting. His voice was rough and gravelly, like he had just woken up from a heavy sleep even though she knew that that was impossible.
"Likewise," Jane replied, and sat on the empty stool next to him.
He continued to smile at her, his incisors seeming even sharper than others' of her kind had looked. But perhaps it was just a trick of the light.
"Damien Hunter," he said, stretching one hand towards her.
She raised one eyebrow at him.
"I know," he laughed. "The name is rather ironic. But I swear, it's just a coincidence. Fitting, isn't it?"
She laughed. "Very fitting. And I'm Jane Blackwell." She stuck out her own small hand. It disappeared almost completely inside his.
He smiled widely at her. She tried to ignore the sudden bit of uneasiness that welled up within her in favor of concentrating solely on the thrill that being near Damien gave her. She could tell already that this would play out interestingly.

They stuck together for almost seven years after that night. It was a relationship based mainly on their most primary needs, and they worked well together in their hunts. For awhile, they seemed unstoppable.
Jane fancied herself in love with Damien, but she knew that it wasn't really true. She more liked to think that she was in love with him- probably because it gave a validation to why she stayed with him for such a long time. He was a good asset to have during the hunt: strong, quick, and sharp-minded. Plus, it did not seem to hurt that he was handsome, either. Overall, Damien was everything that Jane figured she should expect from a companion. And they went well together.
But things were not as brilliant as they had first seemed. Jane felt stuck, and grew increasingly restless and annoyed with her life- and with Damien. She had already begun to question their relationship, especially considering how she was realizing the immorality of hunting humans. Her conscience was beginning to get the better of her, and it was taking its toll on her current situation.
It was one night in October of 1951 that caused Jane to make her decision.
She and Damien had deciding to go hunting, of course. They had not fed in awhile, at her insistence. Even with him, she did not like to hunt much; it gave her that depressed feeling that she so hated, and had begun to realize it was because the toll of so much death was wearing on her. Yet even so, she did not stop altogether. Damien had convinced her not to; after all, why deny themselves the basics of their very essence? It would be against her nature to do so.
But Jane insisted on less frequent hunting trips, and now it had been a few weeks since they had last fed. Because of that, they were both on edge. When Jane was thirsty, she grew restless and easily agitated. Damien just got angry. And he had no one else to take it out on but her.
She wasn't speaking to him as they ran through town that night, searching for the first available prey that they could find. She simply concentrated on tracing humans' scents and pointedly ignoring the glances he kept giving her.
"This is all your fault you know," he said gruffly, breaking the tense silence that had fallen between them at the beginning of their hunt. "If you did not insist on this asinine plan of only hunting every few weeks, I would not get mad. And not feeding doesn't do you any good either, you know. You act like a complete bitch."
Jane chose to ignore that statement, mostly because she had caught a scent on the breeze. "Look- humans," she said simply. "They are close. We can feed now, and you can stop getting so damn angry."
He grumbled a string of profanities under his breath, but otherwise did not respond. He simply gave the signal- a quick nod of the head- for Jane to follow him, which she did with a tiny sigh. They crept upon the humans that were now within earshot. It was a man and a woman, sitting on a park bench and chatting amiably. The scent drifted once again towards the two vampires, who looked at one another with the same bloodthirsty gaze. It was over before the humans had ever even realized what had happened.
Once Jane had lifted her head from the now drained body, fully sated and in a substantially better mood than she had been only minutes before, she turned towards Damien so that they could destroy the evidence and leave. But before she could, something caught her attention: the slightest of gasps, coming from behind a tree on the other side of the park. And when she looked, she could see a bit of fabric sticking out, signaling that they were not alone.
Damien, of course, heard it too. He stood up, gave his signal once again to Jane, and then took off towards the tree. Jane followed dutifully behind, knowing it would do no good to protest.
They reached the other side of the park less than a second later. Damien leaned casually against the tree, and both vampires looked around to see what had caused the noise. When they did, they came face to face with a young girl, obviously no older than six or seven. Her gold hair was tied partially back with a ribbon, and her cherubic face was blotchy from crying. It was obvious from the horrified look in her wide blue eyes that she had seen everything. At the sight of her, Damien just grinned. Jane felt her stomach drop. She knew that grin.
"Damien, no," she said firmly. Both of them turned to look at her, the girl still terrified but the male vampire looking simply amused.
"Oh but Jane, it would be such fun," he replied with a mock pout. He then resumed his wide smile, baring his sharp teeth at the little human. It had the effect he desired: she began to tremble, obviously trying not to cry.
"You can't!" Jane pleaded. "She's just a little girl. And besides, there's no reason for it- we already hunted."
"My amusement is the reason," Damien replied easily. He reached out and began to twirl a lock of the girl's hair between his fingers, chuckling slightly at her reaction. "Do I need anything else?" He looked back up at Jane, his eyes boring into her as if daring her to protest.
"Please don't do this," she begged, desperately trying to help the increasingly hopeless situation. She knew that her words were in vain; once Damien fixated himself on something, it was impossible to break him from it. The girl's fate had been sealed- but that did not mean that Jane wasn't going down without trying.
"Damien- please," she said again. She stepped towards him and tugged at his arm, but he easily hit her away as if swatting at a fly. He continued with his 'game' as if nothing had interrupted him. Jane wanted there to be something- anything- that she could do, but he was much stronger than her, and would not hesitate to use his strength against her if it came to that. He'd done so in the past, when she had protested, and he would do it again. Nothing would get in his way.
Knowing this, Jane realized that she did not want to be part of what would happen. She did not even want to be near it. She gave one last, apologetic glance at the girl, knowing that the image of her tear-streaked face would not be something that was easily forgotten. And then she ran, deciding that she would keep running until her legs had carried her to somewhere far, far away from him.
The last thing that Jane heard, as she sprinted into the darkness of the night, was a high-pitched scream and a rumbling, sadistic laugh.

With a shudder, Jane returned to her visible self. She looked around, and quickly realized that the entire family was staring at her. They had probably been doing so for awhile now; she did not even know how long she had been invisible. Time tended to lose all meaning when she was on her own.
"I know who it is," she said to their silent, expectant faces. "I would have recognized the handwriting anywhere. His name is Damien. We used to…travel together, during the '40s." She tried to block them out, but Jane could not help the few flashes of images from her 'traveling' days that got through her head.
Edward let out a growl from his chair in the corner. Jane cringed; he had obviously seen what was in her mind.
"Well, why would he do something like this?" Esme asked from the other side of the room, ignoring Edward's reaction.
Jane shook her head. "I have no idea…but we didn't exactly part on the best terms, which probably has something to do with it. I would not put it past him to have been searching for me all these years, trying to get back for leaving him. It has to be something along those lines. I don't know why now, when he could have done so earlier…but nonetheless, I am positive that it was him."
"Well, don't worry Jane- we will fix this," Carlisle said reassuringly. "There will be some way to rectify the situation."
She nodded, managing a small smile. The family talked for awhile more, then decided to disperse, gather themselves, and think more on the subject in the morning after they had cleared their heads.
"Edward," Jane said softly, catching him just outside the living room door after everyone had gone. She put a tentative hand on his arm and nervously looked up to meet his gaze. "Look, whatever you saw…it's nothing. So much happened since then, and it was sixty years ago, and trust me…it is absolutely nothing." Trust me, she willed him silently. Her eyes searched his, pleading with him to believe her.
"I do trust you," he replied. But he spoke woodenly, with a gaze that he fixed on a spot on the wall behind her ear. His topaz eyes were blank, giving nothing of his emotions away. Crap…he was mad.
Jane sighed and felt like crying as Edward walked away. She cursed herself internally for not blocking her thoughts better. He had only seen the worst flashes in her mind, which obviously did not exactly make her look good. If he knew the whole story, of course, perhaps he would not be so quick with his anger…
But it was better if he did not know. This was her situation. She had been stupid enough to start things with Damien in the first place, and now she would have to bear the burden of that. She sighed again. She fully deserved everything she got. Whatever had been burgeoning between herself and Edward before this…well, he did not need to be with someone like her.
Now thoroughly depressed, Jane tried to focus her entire energy on fixing the problem that now lay before them. She tried to ignore the fact that she had completely ruined things with Edward, and instead focused on finding a solution for the whole Volturi-issue.
Of course, that was easier said than done, because she couldn't think of a thing. Perhaps she was doomed after all. Trying to resign herself to her fate, Jane just hoped that they would only want her, and not Edward as well.