Benjamin

The car turned smoothly into the drive. I looked out at the house I had called home the most of my life but thought of as home the least. I looked over at my beautiful wife, ready for this day.

"Let's go," she said, beaming at me. Of all the times I could recall, sitting in this driveway with her, dreading having to go inside, and now, she was going with me. I loved her more with every day. Every day was one more perfectly recalled twenty-four hours with her in my life. It only got better, and with every day, the ratio of time spent without her to with her became smaller.

We stepped out of the car quickly, but not hurriedly. We obviously didn't want rumors about my new appearance flooding the town, but Edwina would let us know if anyone was around and watching.

We carried our parcels with us, and the kids did as well. And by kids, I meant Lee, Thea, and Emond. Shortly after we stepped out, Josie pulled up on her motorcycle. She put the kickstand down and swung a leg over. She wore jeans and a tank top, which considering her normal garb as practically conservative.

"Ready?" I asked. She laughed, "Should be fun!"

We walked up to the door and I knocked with a free hand. The door swung open and Stewart Clearwater stood there, looking as surprised as his kids.

"Dad!" they both said, in practically harmonious consternation.

I laughed, the sound of it mixing well with Emond's chuckle.

"I guess they didn't tell you I was going to be here," he said.

"No," said Lee, "they didn't."

Lee sounded irritable. But that was how he always sounded. Every single time I had spoken to him, my every word had been met with grunting monosyllabic replies. I'm sure he would have rather pissed on my shoe than be polite to me, but that's his beef and not something I was interested in taking personally.

Thea, on the other hand, seemed to be sort of a sweetheart. She and Edwina hit it off amazingly well, and it was pretty obvious right away that she was a good kid. It's almost like Edwina had a sixth sense about these things or something...

"Are you going to let us in or what?" asked Lee, not quite as gruffly as he usually spoke.

"Oh," said Stewart, "right."

He stepped back and opened the door wide and we came in, kicking snow off shoes and such.

"Where's Mom?" asked Josie as she came in just before me and Edwina.

"Living room I think," said Stewart.

We walked in and he looked us over carefully. Edwina beamed at him, and he nervously beat a hasty retreat.

I grinned, whispering so that only she could hear, "You shouldn't frighten the locals like that."

"What?" she protested with feigned innocence. "I was being perfectly nice."

"I'll show you perfectly nice," I said, hanging my coat up an instant before I stole a kiss from her, leaving her gasping and dying for just a bit more before I made my own retreat. Unfortunately, I wasn't quite visible to anyone else before she nearly lifted me off my feet and dragged me back. I laughed silently as she set me against the wall, almost exactly as we had kissed on the day of graduation, though our roles were reversed. I was good to back inside this house that shared so many of those first memories with us. They seemed a lifetime ago.

"You don't think we can run up to your room real quick..." she said, and even with the heat in her voice that sent me into a near head spin all by itself, I couldn't help but laugh again.

"I think the others might notice something was up when the second story falls in," I say smiling. "Come on. We can assault each other later."

"I wasn't the one who started it," she grumbled.

I smiled and kissed her cheek, as I knew she wanted.

"Very well," I said. "I shan't begin anything we cannot finish directly ever again."

"You really are an insufferable monster," she nearly growled.

"Who told you?" I said deadpan.

She smiled so brilliantly, I felt like my heart had stopped all over again.

"Come on," she said. "We're missing the fun."

"Oh get up, Mom," said Josie. "No one here cares and we aren't going to go blabbing it around."

"Josie," said Mom, reproachfully. "That's really-"

"Quite alright," said Belinda, sighing. She stood up from her chair. Mom and Stewart nearly flipped their lids.

"You can walk!" Stewart shouted.

"Since when?" demanded Mom.

Belinda rolled her eyes, "Need to know."

Mom sighed, "Okay! Okay."

I had been coming up a lot lately, what with me appearing on her doorstep on Halloween. She couldn't understand until I said that she would be seeing me like this from now on. I had been practicing my rough human voice and had been progressively returning to my vampire voice as I spent time with her. On my third visit at Thanksgiving, I was speaking as I would at home, and that was when I brought Emond.

Mom's reaction was almost violent, but when we both laughed her into embarrassment, she finally gave up on feeling awkward, treated him much like she did me, and we got on with being sociable. But every time we brushed up against anything supernatural, she muttered "Need to know" under her breath and we moved on.

So, that was what we did here. We put presents under the tree, Belinda walked over and sat on the couch with Josie, Thea on her father's lap despite the fact that she was as large as he was, Lee hung back against one wall, Edwina and I got drinks for those who wanted it, and Emond asked a ton of question of everyone, curious about the finer details of Christmas.

Finally, we got to exchanging gifts. Mom got some fishing equipment, and from me, a book called Zen and The Art of Motorcycle Maintenance.

"This looks a little intellectual for me," she said. "I don't really do all that much reading, Ben."

"Well," I said, "you don't need to read it all at once or anything. Some interesting thoughts and viewpoints. Might come in handy at some point."

"Hmph," said Mom and Stewart laughed. Both Belinda and Mom noticed. Edwina and I noticed them notice and smiled.

Stewart didn't get much since his kids didn't know he was going to be here and those of us who did didn't know him well enough to get gifts. Except Edwina.

"Here," she said, handing him a parcel. Inside was a rather expensive jacket, but it wasn't expensive because it was designer; it was expensive because it was finely made. We didn't even bother carrying that label at Newtons' because it was so rarely purchased it wasn't worth it.

"Thank you," said Stewart, seeming very touched.

Josie tossed a small bundle at her mom, who couldn't even be bothered to try catching it. She let it land into her lap and then put down her tea and opened it. She opened it to find a picture of her daughter and grandson, taken when he was still small and childlike. Alice took the picture. I was just out of frame, watching them as Josie tried to teach him how to tie his shoes, and he kept refining her methods of tying and teaching at every step. She was starting to get so frustrated that she attacked him with tickles, unable to be angry at him, so young and vibrant. In the picture, he was leaning into her on her lap, his feet splayed, a lace in each fist, laughing with his eyes closed. Josie had her smiling mouth near his ear, her poking, tickling fingers were visible at his sides. If you ever wanted anyone taking pictures, it was Alice. Every mom in the room had some degree of tears in their eyes, except Edwina.

Emond actually got a fair number of presents. From Edwina, he got an old leather bound journal, ready for all sorts of things to be written. From Josie, he got an intricately woven leather braid to be worn around the neck, fitted with wooden carvings and bits of shells, which he put on directly. From Mom, he got a book on fishing, and from Josie's mom, he got a very old blanket, which Josie protested jokingly for not getting herself. From Katherine and Emanuel, he got an open-ended, round-trip ticket to Germany, first class and everything. From me, he got a pen set to go with his journal, inscribed in gold; "Sometimes the most powerful force in this world is words." He thanked us all for the kind gifts and sat between me and Josie on the floor.

He was almost done. I could tell. It had been just over six months, and his age was slowing dramatically. He now looked old enough to be Josie's brother, mid-twenties, older than I would ever look. He was now a height with Josie and would likely not be any taller. He was just getting a touch of his middle-aged bulk, though he was already thick with muscle. It wasn't strange to me, to any of us, that he was now a seeming peer to Katherine and Emanuel, the child seemingly as old as any of us. That was just the way it was. Okay, it did seem weird to the grandparents, from the looks they kept giving him, but they would have time to get used to it.

"Ben's turn," said Edwina.

"Nope," I said, handing her a small gift.

"But-" she protested. I refused to take it back. I had waited long enough already.

She opened the small package, neatly wrapped, finding an old velvet box, small but larger than the traditional ring box. She opened it and gasped. Inside was an old tarnished locket, I had cleaned it carefully, using only techniques that would have been available in her human youth and only with the care and ability a human jeweler might employ. With fingers that were shaking, by vampire standards anyway, she reached forward and unclasped the locket.

"Oh," she said, and her voice was full of near grief.

"I didn't have Alice's help for this one," I said. "I don't know how to disguise my trips just yet, so I had to travel by foot whenever I could convince Em you two needed a 'girls' weekend'. It took some work, and maybe even a little creative problem solving, but I finally found it. And it was intact, completely."

"What is it?" asked Josie.

"My mother's locket," said Edwina. "It dates back to the early 1890's. It even has the original pictures inside."

Only those that needed to know would know that those pictures were also her parents. As far as I was aware, these were the last images of her parents that existed. Edwina told me a few nights after I had proposed that she had lost everything from her human life in a fire in the 30's. Now, she had two items left. She looked like she desperately wanted to be able to cry.

After Edwina had opened a new scarf, some gloves to match, and a fine pair of expensive boots, it was my turn. The gifts were interesting but simple things, for the most part. Emond had upgraded my Kindle, the new device that still wasn't out on the market yet that allowed me to read easily and electronically. Apparently, he and Edwina had tracked down some high-end electronic components and increased the memory and battery life, which I liked. Edwina had gotten me a new phone, one that had apparently been fitted out so that it could ring so that only supernatural creatures could hear it and was running on the most reliable network and made with the most cutting edge technology. She had already installed a new SIM card with my number since, apparently, my old one was too out of date to fit this phone. It was all ready to go. Mom got me a nice frame and had put my high school diploma in it. Josie had made me a necklace that matched Emond's and I put it on directly. After that, the gathering started to dissolve as everyone who ate started migrating towards the table.

I did most of the cooking, though Emond, Belinda, and Edwina helped. Josie said she would too, but she quickly realized there wouldn't be room, so she graciously decided to let us do all the work. Mom stayed out of the kitchen for the most part, which made cooking way easier. Every time Belinda would turn around, we would be done with something else. She was wondering if we were overdoing it, until I reminded her that we were feeding three wolves, and my son, on top of the three humans. She then considered that we might not have cooked enough.

My mother's table wasn't big enough, so we pulled out the old folding table and added it on to the end. Everyone who was eating crowded in the kitchen to serve themselves, all talking and chatting, if not all entirely amiably. At last, we were all sitting, and while we didn't say grace exactly, we did bow our heads in a moment of quiet reflection on what we had to be grateful for. Everyone was digging in and chatting and having a good time, relatively so. Even Lee smiled once or twice.

After seventeen minutes, I wordlessly excused myself, as though I were going to the bathroom, but instead, I went to my old room.

It was nearly how I had left it, nearly. The mostly empty closet was now mostly full of storage, and it looked as though it hadn't been dusted or vacuumed since I left. But the bed was neatly made and nothing was messy.

I was about to go back when I felt my phone vibrate. I pulled it out. It was from an unknown number. It was coordinates and a date and time. Just under twenty-two hours. It was almost time, sooner than I expected. I deleted the text, no longer needing it. I didn't want even this much of a trail between us. After all, if Alice really wasn't able to be here with us, she needed all the protection she could get.

The footfall I heard was expected and welcome. The arms that encircled me were the most grounding and gratifying feeling I could have.

"Was it her?" asked Edwina. She knew her sister well after all.

"Soon," I said. "I want to stay here and now a bit longer."

But I had stayed here long enough.

I pull myself out of the memory. Naturally, Edwina is in very nearly the same position. The tent we are standing in is large and dark and quiet. The vampires have all left, all but me and her. They are hunting, far afield, and the Cullens are less than an hour away on foot, hunting as well. I have missed my family while they were away, and when they had returned in late October, I was halfway hoping they had brought Alice with them. The number of volunteers had swelled, but tonight, we had lost some. I had come home bearing the news of the impending arrival of the Volturi, and, almost immediately, Alastriona left, taking some of the lesser known and solitary witnesses with her. But those that remained seemed strengthened by the weak resolve of those that had retreated, and to my amazement, many practically bowed to Emond, as though pledging fealty to him. He reiterated once more that he did not want a battle, but they seemed determined to stay and fight, should it become one.

It is easy to see why they believe and choose as they did. My son is beautiful and caring and brave and honest and powerful. He inspires me at times and there is little I wouldn't be willing to sacrifice so that he may live. I hadn't told anyone about the last part of the text I had gotten from Alice. I knew that if there was one question she could answer for me, it was the odds; what were the chance that we were all going to get through this alive. Her answer had been twenty-one percent.

So here I stood, on what I refuse to think of as possibly my son's last night on this earth.

"Are you back?" Edwina mouths next to my ear, and just the shifting of the air is enough me to understand. I squeeze her hand to let her know I am.

"I love you," she mouths, not wanting to wake Emond and Josie who are sleeping curled next to one another. Josie is in wolf form, and I am still surprised she can fit in the tent as she is. Emond, who would be comfortable on solid stone, is dwarfed in her fur and snoring softly, compared to his mother. I would mention that we could probably rip a chainsaw to life without them stirring, but I am loathed to negate Edwina's lovely thoughtfulness.

"It's going to be okay," she conveys silently. I nod. I am still after that, and so is she. We watch together, and time passes, slowly, constantly, moments that are both precious to me if we should fail or if we should succeed. Roughly a hundred and fifty-six minutes later, Emond begins to wake up.

He pulls himself up, shaking off sleep, and immediately Josie begins to stir, opening one eye to look around at him and then to us.

"You can call it creepy if you want," says Edwina. "I prefer to think of it as loving."

Josie resettles, but obviously is not going back to sleep.

"You just don't see it from her perspective," says Emond. "And, it's not like you never watch me sleep."

Josie snorts and Emond laughs, and it is then that I finally see it. It is Edwina expression that tips me off, the wonder and awe in her face, the tenderness and the understanding.

"You copied her too," I say, smiling. "You learned to replicate her gift also. You can read our minds."

"Not quite her gift," says Emond. "Like with you, I am a little better at it than she is. I get all the surface thoughts, but I also get some deep stuff, tenuous threads that helped you form the thoughts you are currently having. Like when Edwina was thinking about watching me sleep, I got some of her watching you sleep too. You were really unhappy when you first met Dad."

Josie gives Emond a pointed look with a sleepy wolf eye.

"I'm sorry," he says.

No you aren't, I think. You want us not to be angry. But you know that you should take people's abilities without permission.

"I am not taking anything," he says. "And besides, I knew she wouldn't mind if I copied her ability. I didn't ask directly, but I knew the answer. She likes the symmetry of it. Though these aren't her words, she likes the idea of me being able to do what all my parents can do."

I look at Josie, but if she has any objects to Edwina being considered his parent, she shows no sign of it.

"He's right," says Edwina. "I am happy to share myself with him in this way."

He looks at me, "Dad, sometimes things can't be so straightforward. Sometimes you just have to do what you know in your heart is right. People get to make their own decisions, but that doesn't mean that they always decide what is best for them. As long as I am not taking away someone's right to choose, preventing them from a decision they could make, then I am not doing anything wrong. I have the right to be the best version of myself that I can, and I am not going to limit myself simply to make other feel better. It isn't right or fair."

He stands up and walks to me, smiling. Taking my hand, he looks into my eyes. His touch is always so warm. It practically tingles.

"This is me," he says. "This is who I am. I will do whatever I can to keep being me."

I nod, looking deep into my son's eyes.

"I understand," I say.

"Good," he says. "We don't have much time left."

He is right. I can hear some of the vampires returning. We have less than an hour. The times has come.

We step out of the tent, finding Lee and Cynthia getting up, looking less than happy about being up. They spent a good portion of the night pacing silently and restlessly around the tent. Finally settled down about an hour ago, but I am betting they haven't had much sleep. Despite that, they seem wakeful and ready for what the day will bring.

The snow is thick upon the ground, only a few inches, but enough to stick and crunch under foot. As we gather, Katherine and Emanuel run up, along with Emily and Rory. Rory goes straight for Emond and hugs him.

"When are you going to stop growing?" he asks jokingly, as he always does.

"Never," says Emond. "But I think I am going to be this size for a while yet, at least until I can find a way to change it."

Emanuel laughs, "That will likely be soon."

"I want to say something," says Emond looking around at our family. "I will not say goodbye in defeat, but I will say that you all have been an invaluable addition to my life. I couldn't be who I am without each and every one of you. You have given me gifts and experiences that I can never repay, and I know that I have done the same for each of you. But we aren't trying to repay them. This isn't about keeping score or commerce. This is what it means to be a family, and you are all my family. I love you all and nothing will ever change that, not matter what happens here today or any other day."

I come up and put hands on my boy. Edwina stands beside me, placing a hand on him and a hand on me. Josie joined us, nearly as quickly as Edwina, putting a hand on me and a hand on him. Katherine joined us, and hand on Edwina and one on me. Emanuel gathers to us next, a hand on his daughter and one on Josie, which surprises me and her. Emily and Rory join, one hand on the other and a free hand on Edwina and Emond. Even though Alice and Jasper aren't here, I can feel them.

The cousins arrive next, seeing us standing together and join, taking the last spaces beside Emond. Teodor stands with a hand on Edwina, though the exchanged looks before she allows it tells me that he is forthright in doing so. Kristof's second hand is on Katherine, and Carlos and Elodia's hands are on each other. To my surprise, Geraldine joins us, a hand on Kristof and a hand on Josie, though it is a stretch to do so. Other vampires come, and while no others touch us directly, a few stand close enough that they might as well be touching. And, together we wait.

The final ten minutes arrive, and we walk out. The clearing is one I know. This is where we met the nomads, Jamie, Victor, and Laurent, had met us. It seemed rather natural that it should be here, the place where I lost my illusions about the innocence of all vampires. Now, we will stand here for our right to choose a life of peace and altruism. I try not to think of the odds.

"I love you," I whisper to Edwina as we begin taking our spots, ready to meet them.

"I have no doubt," she says, looking into my eyes. She doesn't say it back. She doesn't have to.

We stand, and it takes me a moment to realize that we are at the center of the line. To our left stands Katherine and Emanuel. To our right stands Emily and Rory. Next to them are the cousins, beside Katherine and Emanuel are the Irish coven. Next to them are the Egyptians. Beside the Denali vampires are the South Americans. The others fan out left and right. We stand and are ready. The count drops to zero.

It feels as though a sudden stillness descends upon the land around us. Then, like a breeze that cuts through mist and fog, they come. Auri, Cloelia, and Marcia appear, their passage out of the trees not seeming to stir a one. They move like automata, with a steady, perfect pace that is downright lifeless, yet with an undeniable grace that is otherworldly even among the undead. Their usual robes remain but are made of a fine silk, both in thickness and quality, with perfectly stitched seams that only a vampire hand could thread, leaving no question about their lack of garb under the robes.

The vampires that move around them do so in many varied and distinctive manners. Some crawl like beaten animals, knowing their place and accepting it. Others beat about on all fours, brutish and savoring the violent and force their locomotion requires. Others walk with the slinky, sinewy grace of the efficient killer. Still others walk like soldiers, practiced and minimalistic. Others walk like bodyguards, always prepared, ready to snap at the barest hint of danger. Some move like leering jesters, corralling their own small herd of witnesses, some of which who look as unwelcome and uncomfortable as I knew some of us feel at the Volturi's presence here. At last, I spot Imrich at the rear, being cuffed forward by two of the stronger looking Guard, looking starved and unhappy. I am wondering how far they will come, how close they will come to us, when they stop. Though, it does not seem to be their choice; they halt when a long, loud howl cuts their air, close and heavy upon the wind.

With a snarl, Josie leaps from where she was crouched, low behind us, landing in front of us, a warning growl emanating from deep within, her teeth not bared, but her lips drawn enough to hint at their length. Lee and Cynthia join her, one to each side. Each of our flanks are joined by a Pack, Josie's and Sam's, a full fourteen wolves in total, marching out as the Volturi had, coming to a stop in unison, forming up with us. Together, they join in with Josie's growl, until the snow seems to quake in tiny tremors all around us.

The Volturi made no overt noise. They are still, except for the motion of their eyes. They had come to a stop about a thirty paces in front of us, enough distance that a wolf at full speed could cover in about a little over a tenth of a second. With the acceleration, would take them about three seconds to get there. Even so, if the wolves charged now, even if not a single witness came to the Volturi's aid, the wolves would be outnumbered two to one. Vampire's and wolves together and our side is still outnumbered. We might have a fighting chance, but not without losing many on our side. We have to avoid this fight.

A breathe deep the mountain air and speak, as though we are but an arm's length away.

"Good morning, Auri," I say. "Marcia, Cloelia. You are looking as lovely as ever."

To my surprise, Auri actually smiles. I cannot tell if it is the seemingly fragile nature of her millennia-old body that gives the expression its brittle semblance or if it is her mood.

"Your flattery is not unwelcome, Neophyte," she says with a certain indulgence to her tone, "but they are false words and mean little. You know why we are here as surely as anyone. Where is the child?"

I am about to protest, to explain, but before I can, Emond, who is lying in the snow beside where his mother had crouched, stands up behind Edwina and I. He is more than a little noticeable behind us, and as he parts us, walking forward, Edwina whispers quickly, "They are completely prepared for a fight, to destroy all who don't agree to join them under the guise of the law, even if we hadn't broken it. Auri is concerned that Alice isn't here. She won't get her complete set if she is not careful and is unhappy."

Emond steps past us and stops beside his mother.

"I am here, Auri," he says pleasantly. "Now, what laws exactly have my family broken?"

Imrich gasp is audible from here, as is the blow that lands upon him from one of the Guard, as is the jerk that Geraldine lays upon Kristof's arm to keep him in place.

"What is this?" asks Cloelia. "Who is he?"

Auri looks at him and looks... puzzled.

"He..." she says, "he is the child, a man grown."

Her eyes go suddenly wide, then she looks across at me, then Edwina. I remember that look. It is the look of the addict, the one who seeks knowledge of all. We have time. There will be no fighting until this story is laid bare.

I look at her, really look, for the first time. I take it all in; the Volturi, her appearance, her manner, her posture. I begin to construct a pattern in my mind, everything I know, everything that fits, everything that is likely, everything that is probable, everything that is unlikely. I take all that I know and begin to focus. With intense precision and care, I deconstruct her and look to understand her. And I know what I must do.

I understand what she is. I recall a conversation that I had with Edwina, on the day we confessed our affections to one another. She said, and I am paraphrasing from my feeble human memory, that there are two types of people. People who live day to day through habit and routine, who never seek much more for themselves than short term pleasure or distractions, who simply exist, and people who embrace change, who are willing to sacrifice short-term rewards for better long term ones, who are willing to risk and fail, to work for what is worth it in life.

The Volturi are not the latter group. They are exactly the opposite. They live for short term pleasure, for addiction. If half of what Elodia had said about how they acquire and keep their guard is true, they are dealing in keeping people content and unable to leave, even Marcia. There is no freedom here, no choice, even for Auri. They function without change as ever. I have a chance here. I have a chance to show them the error of their ways, to show them a better world, and have them become a part of it. To do that, all they need to do is take a single step. They just need to hear me and decide to leave of their own free will. It will be hard, but I think I can do it.

I turn and looking into Edwina's face. She looks back, confused and unsure, suddenly afraid. I smile, and her fear slacks a bit, until I respectfully slide my arm from hers, and start walking. I pat my son on the shoulder, and he steps back to stand beside Edwina, his mother and the other wolves in front falling back to the line.

Auri takes all this in. I am bluffing her and she knows it. She can see that I see that she is the true leader, no matter how much she and Cloelia both want to imagine their power is equal. She is the head, and if she truly wants to stay that way, she needs to do what I am doing; prove that she is not afraid to take a risk. What she doesn't understand is that by taking a risk, you are proving that you are not perfect and trust someone else, allowing them the possibility of hurting you. If she does step forward, she is trusting me. If she does that, then we have a chance.

"Lady," says a short, thin black haired boy, standing close to Auri, looking stricken, as though already knowing that she will do, almost as though he is afraid for her.

"Peace, my lovely boy," she says in a sugary sweet tone that has all the appeal of chewing tinfoil with human teeth. "I have no fear of this child any more than I have of you. He knows that the best fight is one not fought."

I can see her hook. She is starting slow, showing me what I could have, though she doesn't understand that her lure has no hold on me. She will do all she can to have me decide to leave with her. If I do, Edwina would follow.

She walks out to me, and we meet in the center of the two groups. I turn, offering her the arm that I usually reserve for Edwina. Auri knows this and takes it as we turn, walking slowly perpendicularly to the two groups, as though having a casual stroll.

With very little subtly, I place my hand on hers. She looks over at me and smiles.

"I see you are as talented as ever, young buck," she smiles at me, and for the moment, her sweet tones is lacking.

"I know why you are here," I say.

She laughs, and though it is as lovely as any immortal's, the underline note of lunacy is unsettling, to say the least.

"Please," she says, "enlighten us."

It is a subtle reminder that there are many who can hear us. I cannot risk lowering my voice so that only she can hear without risking suspicion, and I cannot paint the Volturi as villains without risking all those who hear it. Should such a reputation become ingrained, the Volturi's power might start to crumble. Ironically, her attempt to control me only prove how weak that power really is and, as it turns out, completely unnecessary.

"You are here because you think we are a threat," I say. "We have power, and it seems natural to believe that those with power will use it, especially to get more power. But, it isn't power that we crave. It is freedom, choice. We wish to live out lives in the same secrecy you-"

"Enough!" says Cloelia. "You have an immortal child here. We know it. No justification excuses you from the law!"

"My son," I say, unnecessarily loud, "is not an immortal child."

"It doesn't matter what you call your creation," starts Cloelia, but Auri raises a hand.

"Son," she says, looking confused. "Son?"

I look at her, into her eyes, letting go all control over myself that vampires usually hold to, focusing entirely on expression myself, not at all on how that expression might proceed.

"He is my son, Auri," I say. "He is a child, born of mortal and immortal both. He might not even be the first, the only one. Have you ever heard of a man of our kind making love to mortal women, having a care that she might survive?"

She smiles and casts a glance the Denali's.

"I have heard of such a thing," she says, "but I know the rarity it is."

"There may be other children like him," I say, "children that grow to maturity, children who have all the dynamics of mortals and all the strengths of immortals. They are something more than either of us, but are us, nonetheless."

The effect as it courses through the vampires is immediate and electrifying. They start a repetitive stream of words; denials, confusions, doubts, pleadings, fears, anger, and, on the outliers, the very barest hint of speculation. It takes me less than a fraction of a second to realize that these reactions are all coming from the witnesses the Volturi have brought. The Guard are still and silent, even the harshly animalistic and the most jesterish of them. I am not sure what this means.

Then, I turn to Auri, looking deep at her again. She is staring over at my son, a look of something that I was fearing I might see; coveting. I need to get her mind on something else. I know what she is after. She needs to understand why it is in her best interests for her not to have it.

"You are right to be afraid," I say, and she turns back to look at me, but I go on, addressing the group at large.

"Power should scare us," I say, beginning to walk, letting Auri watch my undisguised performance as I give it, "but the power that others of our kind hold is nothing compared with what is coming. The world is changing, unlike anything we have experienced before. The Information Age is here, and hardly a human understands what that means. But we can. And we do."

The vampires begin murmuring, looking about each other, even some of our witness do as well.

"Since the days when human first arrived on this planet," I say, "they have been trying to make up for their own limitations. They created spears to hunt, used fire to increase the ease of nutrients entering their body, build clothing to keep out the cold, created tools to make creating easier, created language so that their knowledge and experiences could benefit others and exist beyond their lifetime. That trend has continued today, and now humans have guns and cars and digital minds they keep in their pocket, capable of connecting to a vast network of information. Today, a sheep herder in Uganda can have access to more information than the president of this country had ten years ago."

"What of it?" asked Cloelia, seeming at the end of her patience.

"It is a trend," I say, "one that can be followed back to the origin of the universe. Evolution. Consider this; the universe is approximately thirteen point eight billion years old. Between that time and the time life first appeared on this planet three point eight billion years ago, seventy-two point four six percent of the universe's current age at elapsed, nearly three-quarters of all time. But, by the time that life became multicellular, twelve point three two percent of all time had passed. Between then and the first neurons appeared, ten point eight seven percent. Between then and the first mammals, two point seven two percent. Between then and the first hominins, one point five eight. Between then and homo sapiens, point zero five percent. Between then and now, zero point zero zero zero zero one four percent. The time between major events is decreasing rapidly. And at each major event, a new classification of organism emerges that is more complex and more powerful than any that has come before. So now, we must face the fact that this is happening, and soon, or the humans will continue this trend and we will face obsolescence."

A number of the vampires look startled, and even Cloelia looks angry.

"It is not possible," she hisses. I turn to face Auri, and her face looks thoughtful.

"Explain," she says.

"The technology humans are using is accelerating at an exponential rate," I say. "It seems slow and linear to them, but this trend has been happening for a while. Humans, looking at what was considered modern technology at the turn of the twentieth century, saw their rate of advancement and believed it would be thousands of years before they would master flight. And yet, in only a few years, the first flights happened in nineteen oh three. Then, in a human lifetime, they were able to land humans safely on the surface of the moon and return them home alive. I will not waste time reciting what fraction of the universe's time that period was. Now, humans walk around with computers in their pockets with more than a hundred times the computing power than that of the space capsule used in said moon landing. This digital intelligence will continue to grow, doubling its price performance ever eighteen months, but even the rate is accelerating. If this trend continues, but the late twenty-twenties, humans will be able to purchase enough computing power to run artificial intelligences that are as intelligent as an average college-educated adult human for around a thousand dollars. With the price performance continuing, in ten years, that computer would cost less than a dollar, or, more importantly, an unassisted human mind would be worth less than a dollar. How much more powerful would a computer need to be before we were outdistanced as well?"

The vampires begin to murmur in denial again, but this time, it is less fanatical and more intelligible. A lot of them understand and are looking for a solution. Unfortunately, none of them seem to be within the Volturi ranks.

"How will the humans compete?" ask Auri. "Surely they will not simply allow themselves to be swept aside."

"No," I say. "They will allow their technology to assist them, as they have always done. They will become directors of their own lives, but their technology will do more and more for them. It will likely begin to integrate with them, as it was when technology began replacing damaged or inferior abledness, as with prosthetic and cochlear implants. Thus, what was once on a desk that is now in their pockets will soon connect to their minds. As they replace injured or dysfunctional parts of their bodies, they will create aspects of themselves that are better than what they naturally have and will replace them as well. Soon, they themselves will have all the benefits of an evolving species, benefiting each of them on an individual basis. They will each join the exponential growth curve, and accelerate in their potential, limitlessly."

"Are you suggesting that we need to evolve?" asks Cloelia, with metaphorical venom.

I shake my head, "I am suggesting nothing of what you should do. I am stating that if we want to maintain our existence and our place in this world, we will need to change, in more ways than one. We need to become something more than what we are. What will happen when humans learn to monitor the world in ways that cannot allow us to exist as we are? What happens when the rate of murders and disappearances and mysterious deaths drop to nothing? What happens when human blood no longer has whatever sustaining element we need to feed on?"

Auri looks at me indulgently, "You have a solution?"

"I do," I say. "We are on the same linear track with current humanity. We are in our proverbial agrarian period. Some of us have powers, powers that we can bring to a group, to better the group as a whole. But what if we all could do what every vampire we meet could do? What if we could have all the knowledge and ability of every vampire come into contact with?"

I indicate my son with a hand, "My son has the ability to alter us. I am sure you have seen that he has the capability of reverting vampires to their human form, but he also has the ability to turn them back. He has shown the ability to alter his own body as well, learning to change himself so that he gains the powers of some of the vampires he has come into contact with. He has all the abilities of his parents, people who he knows and understands. In time, he could learn to acquire the power of anyone of us he meets. In time, he may ever learn to pass this ability on. We could all benefit from him, and we could all become something more. As the humans become limitless, so could we."

Auri tilts her head, as though considering. Then nods.

"Yes," she says. "I see."

The next sound I hear is unlike anything I have ever heard. It is the most violent scream of pain and denial I had ever felt, quaking the nearby trees, bouncing off the nearby mountains. And, as Edwina's shriek falls away, Auri savagely rips Ben's head from his shoulders.