Hey all.. made another "movie trailer" for this story. If you want to check it out, that'd be cool. You tube won't let me copy & paste the actual link, but if you go to the normal youtube dot com website, type in /watch?v=MKLqeLHi1D8 after it to watch it. If you're bored that is... and thanks for the name suggestions for Rose/Emmett's baby! So fun... thanks for reviewing.


Chapter 12

The airplane door burst open and the soccer player that did a decent job to distract Luciana waved goodbye as he slung a bookbag over his shoulder and headed into the New York City airport.

Luciana was in desperate need of her last half bottle of blood. She saved it for an emergency, though thought to herself how much she needed it during the time frame that the pilot asked them all to remain seated with their belts fastened. It was the longest twenty minutes of her short life.

In the distance she saw the last of her temporary friend's frame as he mixed in with all of the other travelers. Luciana gathered her luggage and then headed for the nearest rest room to reload on her fluids. About fifty yards from where she was standing were a set of restrooms, almost tucked away from the mainstream walkways of the crowds of people. She bolted as fast as she could without seeming superhuman in that direction, sensing her pupils were heavily dialated. It was then that an intoxicating aroma struck her nostrils like a thousand darts.

Luciana's nose flared and a quiet hiss escaped her mouth. Steps before the restrooms, the middle aged Italian gentleman from the plane ride walked arrogantly with his head up past her into the men's bathroom. She could practically see the blood pumping in his juicy veins. All at once, her toe and fingers curled and she grinded her teeth with painful anticipation. His blood was calling her like no other she'd experienced - human or animal.

The carry on bag with the half bottle of blood was the now the farthest thing from her mind. It would be like a chocolate lover settled for one M&M as opposed to an entire chocolate factory with dripping waterfalls and ten foot Hersey bars. Luciana longed for this man's blood to run through her veins for hours on end, and she was finally given the opportunity to do so without crashing the entire plane filled with innocent people.

She threw up the hood on her sweatshirt and rolled her luggage into the men's bathroom, sending echoes off the walls each time the wheels clicked over a bump in the tiles. Luciana couldn't tell if they were alone, or if other people were around. She was in hunting mode and there was only one destination on her mind.

The lock on a bathroom door clicked open and she released the luggage she'd dragged in behind her. The click was the best sound she had heard since her father's voice as she parted from him earlier. It meant that her prey was releasing himself closer into her grasp, not that a metal door would have done much to protect him anyway.

Luciana turned her back as the man exited the stall and whistled as he made his way to the sink. She took in a long, deep breath, taunting herself with his aroma as the water from the faucet hit the porceline sink. The sound of it going down the drain was comparable to the way his blood flowed through his body. Dripping. Swirling. Flowing like a delicious river of red.

His shoes clicked on the bathroom tiles and she felt him approaching to where her back was still to him.

All logic was gone. The animal was out in full force. As he crossed her path, she eyed the vein in his neck that was closest to her and lunged, cupping a hand over his mouth to mask the screams that accompanied her teeth pressing through the skin of his warm, succulent neck.

Luciana's eyes rolled back beneath her closed eyelids. Her fangs tore at the flesh that had provoked her for so long. In her mind, she felt for a moment that he deserved it for making her want his blood so badly, and causing her plane ride to turn into a Hellish nightmare. Now, she felt euphoric; heavenly in her demon state.

Before long, his feet stopped kicking and she stood above him, trying not to growl in ecstacy as the lingering taste of his blood in her mouth. She looked at herself in the mirror, eyes burning red and blood covering her face.

I look horrifying, she thought.

Another man entered; a skater looking kid in his early twenties. He hadn't noticed right away, still bobbing his head to the tunes in his Ipod with a beanie cap pulled down past his ears.

Luciana snarled, not out of her frenzy for human blood. The boy looked up in time to see her attack, sending him to the ground before he had time to scream. Within seconds, blood poured from his neck and his eyes stopped fluttering as his body went limp on the ground.

The Quileute bonfire was still in full force, though Rosalie and Emmett excused themselves to return home, eager to enjoy a romantic hand in hand stroll away from everyone else.

Rosalie looked at him adoringly in the moonlight, and he kissed her on her forehead, nose and lips before guiding them back home.

"I'm so happy," she told him, unable to keep a smile from her face, "I can't believe this is actually happening," she cupped her stomach with one hand.

"You deserve it," he told her, throwing a heavy arm over her shoulders, "I'm glad I've been able to help give you this."

Rosalie smiled again, "You mean we deserve this."

"We," he grinned, scooping her up in his arms.

The two of them felt they same way as when they first fell in love; blissful, excited and wanting to throw everything else to the side but each other.

"We should go back to our last standing house," Rosalie said, referring to the house Carlisle and Esme had gotten for them long ago, "Have some more alone time."

Emmett smiled, "Sounds good to me." He began racing them in the direction, though his cell phone caused him to put on the breaks. His heels dug into the dirt beneath his feet and Rosalie quickly scooted out his arms so he could answer the phone.

"Alice," he explained, then picked it up, "Yeah?"

Her voice was frantic on the other end, and Rosalie could tell by his facial expression that something wasn't right. She began to focus on what Alice was saying.

"Okay," Emmett said, "Okay, we will. Meet you there." He hung up the phone and looked at Rosalie with worried eyes.

"It's Lucy?" she asked.

He nodded, "She had a vision. It's not good. Jasper's calling her now and the two of them are going out to New York."

Rosalie put a hand over her mouth, unwillingly ripped from her perfect world.

Emmett grabbed her hand, "Come on. We have to meet everyone at home. Hopefully Carlisle will know what to do."

They darted off toward home as fast as they could.

"How bad?" Rosalie asked with the wind whipping through her hair.

"Kind of bad," he told her.

By the time they'd reached home, Edward and Bella were already talking with Carlisle and Esme. All four of them looked distressed.

"What's happening?" Rosalie asked.

"Alice had a vision," Edward explained, "Luciana was making a scene at JFK airport."

"Did her and Jasper already leave?"

He nodded, "Yes. They didn't pack anything, they just left. I don't know if Jasper's been able to get a hold her on her phone yet."

"Where's Seth?" Esme asked.

"They told him to stay," Bella said, "But he didn't. He went with them."

Masen and Leah burst through the door, both with worried looks on their face. "Seth's gone," Masen told them, "We just tried going after him, but he's gone."

"If he's with Alice and Jasper, he should be alright," Carlisle told him, "What were the details of her vision?"

Edward shook his head, "She followed a man into the bathroom at the airport. His blood was too strong for her to resist. She tried for so long, he was on the plane with her and she was able to withstand, but they crossed paths again when they landed and she couldn't help herself."

"Poor thing. She tried so hard. She made it all the way there." Esme's face was full of anguish. She looked at Carlisle, "Should we go with them?"

He threw an arm around her shoulders and rubbed her back gently, "I think Jasper and Alice have it covered. We have to support her when we get back, be there for her. I'm sure she'll be upset with herself about everything."

Leah's phone went off in a text message and Masen grabbed it from her pocket before she could. He looked at them, "Turn on the news."

Carlisle raced to the living room and pressed the button the remote, illuminating the flat screen before he punched in the numbers zero, eight. A broadcaster was live in New York City, telling of a spree of killings at JFK airport.

"Eight were found dead inside a restroom, where they appeared to be savagely ripped apart at the throat. A suspect is yet to be defined, but police are on the scene attempting to solve this heinous crime."

Another reporter came on the screen with simliar statements. Carlisle saw the horrified look on Leah's face and muted the television.

"The damn Volturi," Masen said angrily, "She was fine until she met up with them."

"Let's hope this doesn't lead them to blame us somehow," Esme said, shaking her head, "I mean so many of us have slipped up in the earlier years of life."

"It's Aro's daughter," Carlisle reminded, "He won't hurt her."

Rosalie put an arm under her stomach and looked down and Emmett rubbed the back of her neck.

"I don't think we'll have any backlash from this," Carlisle told them, "But we'll have to see what unfolds."

They both nodded with serious expressions.

Carlisle looked at Esme, who glanced up toward with him worried eyes. "It'll be okay," he assured her, though didn't know how accurate his words really were.