Out of Time
She was all that he could hear.
The voices of the others, now more than a mile away in an attempt to give them privacy, were nothing more than faint whispers, tickles of barely-formed images and unspoken fears. They could have been in the living room just below. It wouldn't have mattered, for she drowned out all else.
For what could have been either a century or only seconds, his palm rested between Bella's breasts, flat over the thin fabric of her shirt against her sternum so that he could feel – so that he could memorize – the echoing hammer of her heartbeat for the last time. Now, finally alone and no longer distracted by bittersweet reunion, it was again racing, giving away the fear she steadfastly refused to voice. A visceral reminder of her human fragility and mortality, those too-quick thumps pummeled him inside and out, shattering any hope of calm.
Shuddering against the onslaught, Edward stared past her to the darkening window and inhaled. As always, the decadent perfume of her blood that saturated the air flooded his nostrils and lungs, igniting the low, reassuring burn that guaranteed her existence. This time, however, on his tongue and coating the inside of his mouth, there was an accompanying spike of tangy adrenaline. It tasted sour and so very, very wrong.
But then, everything about this was wrong. It was against all of the instincts now etched in both his psyche and his bones – the ones that told him to protect her no matter the cost or consequence – and his entire being recoiled, demanding that he stop this path at once.
"I trust you," Bella whispered, as she pushed her fingers through wild autumn-colored strands, lightly running her nails along his scalp to wrest him away from his abstraction. When Edward's eyes finally turned back to hers, ancient, dark, and filled with unveiled conflict, she reached for his hand. "You won't hurt me."
There was a surprised punch of cool air against her skin, and in its wake, her skin pebbled in recognition. Slowly – so very slowly – Edward wound his steel fingers between her supple ones and drew her hand to his mouth. Hesitantly, just as he'd done the night before, his lips trailed from her wrist up the inside of her arm, following the web of pale blue veins. Over and over, he repeated his slow circuit, only stopping so that he could press his tongue to the tender flesh at the inside of her elbow, caressing with the deep-seeded reverence reserved only for mated halves.
As if he were in physical pain, Edward's brow sharply folded and his features abruptly crumpled with biting severity. He looked up at her again, those ancient eyes now depthless and forlorn, and softly, he murmured against her skin. "Yes… Yes, I will."
"No-"
"Yes, Isabella," Edward interrupted, instantly grimacing at the recalled fire and agony of transformation. "That's exactly what I'm going to do. It will hurt like nothing else…" He blanched, clutching her hand as if he feared she would run. "You will hate me for doing this to you."
The backs of Bella's fingers found his face and began drawing the hard, rolling line of his jaw to soothe them both. Blind, heart-stopping conviction rang in her voice. "No, Edward. I'll love you more."
"I wish that I could take this pain from you," Edward answered, even as he leaned into the warmth of her touch.
"Stop stalling," Bella murmured, tugging him down until the inches between them became none. Against his lips, she smiled and then fitted her mouth to his, kissing him firmly and wetly, sweeping her tongue against his until he shivered and framed her hips with his hands, pressing her down into the mattress.
His breath fanned out across her face, candy sweet, and his nose slid down her cheek to her chin and then to the crook of her neck, hovering just above her pulse point. With a soft, anguished groan, Edward kissed her there, licking and gently sucking the line of her carotid, feeling the jarring strike of her pulse against his lips.
"Here?" he spoke, his voice low and the softest velvet.
"No, here." Bella grabbed his hand from her hip and guided it beneath her shirt, placing it over the swell of her left breast.
Edward's lips parted, although no sound came out. But then her skin registered a gust of air as a cloud of white cotton peeled over her head, momentarily hiding him from her view and leaving her bare. When she saw his face again, still furrowed and discontent, he was staring down at her – at the very place she had placed his palm – as if he could see the pumping valves of her heart beneath her flesh.
Bella took a deep breath – a last breath – to steady her nerves. Smiling again for herself as much as for him, she kissed the tips of his fingers and winked. "Now, bite me."
Edward closed his eyes as he leaned forward, nestling his nose between her breasts, smelling perfume and sweetness and the unmatched perfection of both his singer and mate.
"I love you," he whispered, opening his mouth against her skin. "May God forgive me."
~.~.~
It happened so fast that he almost missed it.
Teeth poised to puncture, splintering the quiet blackness behind his lids, the moment Edward made his final decision, there was a sudden flash of color, and a bark of high-pitched mental distress rattled his head. Too distant to discern, the image was blurry and misshapen, disguising what could only be a pale, bone white face. The accompanying words in his ears were garbled and incomplete, more stark emotion than coherent thought.
As quickly as the image appeared, it vanished. But its presence was enough to arrest the downward path of his teeth, and instantly, Edward jerked upright. His head swiveled toward the window, his eyes scanning the darkness – listening.
"What's wrong?" Bella breathed, her heart slamming into her chest. Her stomach lurched and her nails clawed mattress below, searching for any kind of grounding.
Edward neither answered nor moved, frozen in intense concentration. Never before, not even in those first days, had she seen him so still or so lifeless. Muscles locked, ready to spring, features furrowed and sharp, and eyes now black as soot, Edward was more statue than man or being. His stillness terrified her, and her thoughts automatically spun out, expecting the worst.
In that moment, everything seemed to slow down, the seconds passing like minutes, as if time itself were grinding to a halt. The tick of the clock pounded like a drum, and the air in the room seemed to heat and thicken. With each ragged breath, it scraped down her throat like sandpaper.
Edward!
The call of his name rang inside his mind, frantically repeating in Alice's piercing, desperate voice. Vaguely, through her now-tawny eyes, Edward caught glimpses of her running from her kill, racing through a thick grove of trees, flying across the high grass at a speed that only he himself could surpass. Driven by pure fear, each repetition of his name grew in volume and in clarity until she was finally close enough for him to really see and hear.
On the bed, Bella trembled beneath the force and fire of transformation… A line of drying blood trailed across her middle, following the lower curve of her breast and sliding down her ribs where it spotted the cream sheets crimson… Her eyes were closed and she cried for him, soft, tortured moans spilling from her lips… Thumping loudly in the room, Bella's heartbeat was now slowing, and the liquid that flowed through her shriveling veins was turning viscous, impossible for her heart to pump.
Bella cried out again, blindly seeking comfort that would never come.
For she was alone…
Outside the white farmhouse, they were seven against six, the Cullens and Edward against the fearsome might of the Volturi… Glistening in the light of the early morning sun, separated by no more than two hundred meters, they silently faced off, waiting… Waiting for one to make the first move and break formation… Waiting for war to begin… Yet for all the posturing and bared teeth, all knew who would ultimately prevail. Theirs was a futile fight…
In the middle of the wide, grassy lawn, Eleazar and Carlisle softly spoke, seeking some kind of truce…
"I can't let you take them…"
"Carlisle, you must hand over the girl and Edward… She is beyond your protection, and Edward belongs to us… His fate is for the Masters to decide…"
Eleazar trailed off and stared over the blond vampire's shoulder, his focus trained to Alice and Jasper. "The two gifted ones must come with us, as well, but I swear to you upon my own ashes that no harm shall come to them… Aro wishes to meet them and perhaps extend an invitation, that is all… If you do not protest, it has been decreed that you, your mate, and the rest of your coven will pardoned."
Carlisle opened his mouth to speak, but he was silenced by a dismissive wave of Eleazar's hand. "Do not fight us, Carlisle… Please… You know that you will lose… I wish to destroy you no more than Aro. Your years in Volterra are still looked upon fondly. So, please, I ask again that you do not press us." Eleazar's scarlet gaze drifted to Edward. Softer, he added, "Ask Edward if you fail to recall. He will tell you of our power… He knows of what we can do… what we will do."
"Eleazar, it doesn't matter. You know that I can't just turn away…"
The two vampires' eyes locked for a long moment, a pregnant pause that seemed to echo in the shallow valley. When Carlisle made no move to submit, Eleazar sighed in discontent before looking away and slowly nodding to Alec. "Very well, my old friend. You leave us no choice…"
An invisible, numbing curtain began to fall. Edward recognized it immediately – the split second that Eleazar had given his command – and he raced across the yard, targeting the dark-haired boy.
But it was too late; everything was too late. For just as his foot crossed the midpoint between their battle lines, blackness claimed them all.
Edward blinked and violently shook his head, fighting the future that he feared the most, not wanting to see what followed. But he was powerless now, stuck in the scenes that Alice's mind all but screamed, barely registering the slap of the screen door below and the strike of her feet on the stairs.
The final image, more definitive than anything he'd ever witnessed from Alice's fickle talent, flickered, shaking him to the core. A loud, keening sob rumbled through his chest, and there was the crack of splintering wood when his knees hit the floor.
On the lawn, seven piles of ash burned bright, and curls of smoke spiraled into the sky, plum-black against the white, cottony clouds. Five vampires, still cloaked in black, stood watching, untouched and tasting the sickening sweetness of burning flesh and obliteration…
Inside, the sixth, her cherubic lips curved upward and smiling in sadistic delight, stood over Bella's helpless, quivering body…
The door swung wide and slammed into the wall, its hinges instantly mangled and broken from the force of the diminutive vampire behind it. Wooden splinters rained inward, heralding the blur of white that shot through the doorframe. Bella flinched, but before she could voice her fear, Alice shrieked, "Stop!" even though the warning was no longer necessary.
Hot, frightened tears streaked down Bella's cheeks as she watched Edward's frozen form, now oblivious to Alice's presence, slowly begin to fold in anguished defeat, tilting forward until his forehead rested on the mattress beside her.
No! she cried.
It felt as though she were screaming even as her words came out as nothing more than hoarse pants of air that burned her throat. "Alice! What the hell is going on?"
"It's too late," Alice whispered. "He can't change you. There's no time. They'll ki-… he can't…"
Bella's hand trembled as it approached Edward's bowed head. He jerked when she touched him and she watched his fist sink through the thick fabric of the mattress in barely contained rage. Metal springs groaned and popped beneath her.
Swallowing around the thick lump in her throat, Bella inhaled a shaky, shallow breath.
"When?"
Pale, honey-colored eyes slowly rose to meet dark sable ones.
"They'll be here at dawn."
~.~.~
It was an image unchanged from the night. Despite all of their plotting, pleas, and efforts, as Alice had foretold, six vampires arrived just as the morning sun broke the horizon. Ever ones for pageantry and show, the Volturi guards – once his brothers, now his enemies – walked abreast, floating across the high grass. Shadowed against the sun's stretching rays, their sweeping cloaks were as black as night, and with their cowls pulled low over pale white features and crimson eyes, they were the hands of Death himself.
Their own line was still as stone, watching and waiting for the inevitable.
To his left and to his right, the Cullens fanned out, forming a wall of strength, solidarity, and determination. Each knew that in standing beside him, in standing to protect Bella, the girl they had claimed as family, they knowingly condemned themselves. Dread wound through their thoughts, making their fists curl and their stomachs plummet, but none departed. Their decisions had been made, and outwardly, their message was clear.
There was but one intention today: to hold the Volturi at bay, to keep them as far from the farmhouse as possible in hopes that her heartbeat wouldn't reach their ears. Where the Cullens and Edward differed in strategy and opinion and where there was no small amount of distrust between them, that much they had all agreed upon the second Bella's eyes had finally closed from exhaustion: her life outweighed all else.
Edward? Jasper called. Fresh from hunting, his eyes were bright and the palest honey, yet his mind was dark and ablaze with the memories of his long-left past. When he inhaled, instead of pine and freshly tilled earth, Jasper smelled the dry dust of the high desert and the sickeningly sweet stench of charred vampire flesh. Coiled like a bullwhip, he flexed his talent, ready to release and crack it in ways he hadn't used in one and a half centuries. The same gift that soothed could cripple.
The small one there on the right is Jane, correct? How many of us can she burn at once?
Edward softly answered, "Only one at a time…" He could see the direction of Jasper's thoughts. "But it doesn't matter."
Their eyes met briefly. What do you mean?
"Alec. If any time is given, he can take us all down at once, and you won't even realize it. You won't reach him in time. You'll only see black. You'll see nothing. You'll hear nothing. You won't even feel it when Demetri takes your head and lights the match."
Is that what Alice sees? If we attack, that's what happens? I know that she's not telling me something.
Edward nodded slowly, his gaze sliding from Jasper to the small, dark-haired futureteller by his side. He didn't voice the other scenario, the scene that had appeared in the still of the night when Bella slept on his chest – the outcome Alice hid from all but him.
Unless Edward can force them to take him first. Then there is a chance that she will survive, that they won't search for her… If he can convince them before…
The Volturi line halted two hundred meters away. Their robes billowed in the wind, carrying toward him scents of olive groves, of Volterra, and of his Masters. Edward smelled malevolence, and a choir of familiar voices chimed inside of his mind.
Traitor! I'll burn you myself, Edward! Then I'll drink your little human toy… I'll make her suffer… Scream for days… She'll curse you and beg me to finish her… She'll beg to be drained…
Edward flinched and his teeth snapped in instantaneous, icy fury. The words crackled and burned through his thoughts, far more painful than the probing jabs of sharp, needle-like pain she launched behind them. Decades of harbored jealousy and resentment – for his unexpected arrival a century ago, for his lineage, for his mind reading, for his mere existence – flowed through her mind, blinding her to all else.
Yet he dared not move, for Edward knew that the child-witch was baiting him, teasing and taunting him into livid response. It was exactly what Jane wanted. A fight.
They've always been too lenient with him… Beside Demetri, Chelsea shook her head, dropping her cowl to her shoulders. Across the distance, centuries old, blood-red eyes regarded him with confusion colored by disdain. Just because he was the first made since…
A shame…
A waste…
Ungrateful… Santiago, Caius's trainer and battle master, made no attempts in hiding his thoughts. How many have coveted and vied for that which he was freely given… Without merit… He turns his back on the Masters… on his own kind… Let us kill him now and be done with it…
Cool, unruffled by the scene at hand, Eleazar stepped forward and stared across the open field, taking in the line of unseasoned and untrained vampires flanking his Masters' former prince. It was an uneven match in every way. Out of seven, there were truly but two who posed risk – Edward, of course, and the battle-trained empath. The others were of little consequence against their might.
I know that you hear me… Eleazar began. Don't fight us, Edward… The Cullens need not be involved. Aro will make an offer to two – the futureteller and her mate, but it's merely that. An offer that they may decline once in Volterra.
But now we come for you and for the girl, as you knew that we would. You know as well as I do that your fate was forfeit the moment you broke rank… This has gone on long enough… Come quietly…
When Edward made no attempt in response, Eleazar's head tilted – imploring – and he added, I can make sure that your human dies quickly and painlessly. Have you no worry of Jane or the others; I'll handle it myself… Where is she?
Beside him, unknowing of Eleazar's silent entreaties, Carlisle's shoulders tensed, his eyes cast to those of his mate, and hesitantly, he made to speak and break the silence… Just as he had in Alice's first vision, the one that halted the press of Edward's teeth and denied his mate immortality – the one in which all had perished in a black rain of hellfire and ash.
"She's not here, Eleazar," Edward called abruptly, pushing Carlisle aside as he began slowly walking toward the Volturi line.
Stunned silence fell behind him, for this was not as they had agreed. In Edward's periphery, the big vampire – Emmett – jerked forward as if to intervene but stopped when his blonde mate grabbed him by the elbow. The cable-like muscles of his shoulders and forearms rippled in angered restraint. What are you doing, Edward? In his mind, he saw gruesome fighting and the breaking of vampire flesh. Other voices clamored, asking the same.
Edward waved his hand to silence them and nodded to Alice.
Are you certain? she whispered, even though she knew his answer.
Each step through the thick, dew-laden grass felt as though he were wading through concrete, weighted and wrong, headed toward his gallows. All sound, from the brush of the swaying blades to the trills of the birds hiding in the nearby trees, seemed to fade away, lost to the thunder of the heartbeat that resided forever in his mind.
When Edward inhaled, it was Bella he smelled. On his skin, on his tongue, flooding his lungs and chest, her scent drove him forward. As if she were right there, he could feel the delicate pressure of her body as she'd lain against his side, clinging to him through the night, and instead of the vampires before him, Edward saw her lips forming the sacred words that made her his.
He stopped no more than fifty feet away, waiting – hoping that God would grant him one request in exchange for everything he possessed.
She would live. All else be damned, Bella would live. Instinctively, just as it had been when he believed her lost, Edward's eyes closed and his lips parted, silently breathing the beseeching prayers of his human mother, "Domine, non sum dignus… Domine, exaudi orationem meam. Esto, turris fortitudinis a facie inimici. Et filius iniquitatis non apponat nocere eam. Domine placere protege eam…"
Bemused by both Edward's admission and his too-calm approach, Eleazar glanced to Demetri. His brows lifted in unspoken question.
"No, I don't sense her at all," Demetri muttered, inwardly seeking the glowing print that he knew would be absent. "I couldn't before, so I can't tell you if he lies."
The tall, olive skinned vampire frowned. I'm no fool, Edward, he murmured, his accent rolling and thick. I know that you're somehow thwarting Demetri. Or that he lies for you. Have them bring out the girl and come with us. The time for these games has passed.
"She's dead," Edward answered softly. The very word threatened to unhinge him, yet he forced it past his teeth.
Shock raced down both vampire lines and rendered the voices inside his mind silent.
A second and then another passed before a low snarl, incredulous and angered, screamed through the silence. You lie!
Slowly, Edward turned to Jane, unafraid and unyielding. Like Chelsea, her dark cowl now draped across her narrow shoulders. Her crimson eyes were blazing, and unveiled malice riddled her tone.
You're mad if you believe we accept that as truth. Demetri saw. He spoke of your attach–
"I killed her."
Before Jane could voice her accusation aloud, Alec exhaled, a short sound of mingled amusement and irritation. "Why did it take you so long, brother? Explain yourself so that we might understand."
Lifting his chin, glaring at the black-haired boy, Edward growled, "Does it matter? She's dead." His knuckles cracked beneath the force of his fist. "And I am here, before you, offering myself in quiet surrender. Do what you must and then go. Leave this coven be. There is nothing else for you here."
"I still smell her on you," Eleazar interrupted. His stare was piercing, searching for the lie.
"Of course, you do," Edward spat. "The girl was my singer… la mia cantante… con il suo sangue perfetto." His tongue lingered, caressing those final syllables, and then he paused, waiting for the weight of that name to descend. "I kept her as long as possible. You would have done the same. Now let's be done with this. You're here to take me down. Now do it."
"Such restraint…The Masters would be impressed," Eleazar mused. "How do I know that you speak the truth?"
Impatient for this to be done – for them to leave – Edward growled again, "I'm here, aren't I? I'm not running. I know my penance."
"Yes, yes, you are here. Why are you here, Edward? With these Cullens?"
Edward gambled, cocking a brow with feigned arrogance and surety. "Marcus didn't tell you?"
Six Volturi guards eyed him in utter disbelief. Aro, Eleazar knew had sent him. But he knew nothing of their other Master. It was unheard of.
"I was to query Carl–"
"Enough! Demetri, see to the traitor," Jane screeched. Full of fire and wrath, she glared past his shoulder to the wall of golden-eyed Cullens. "Empath! Futureteller! Come here now or your entire coven will be destroyed."
"Jane," Eleazar warned.
"Enough with this, Eleazar." Jane clucked her tongue and sent an exampling bloom of fire to his mind. "I grow weary of all of this talking. Kill him as you've been ordered. Or I will."
Shaken by the scene on the lawn, Alice clutched Jasper's hand, as other visions swirled past her eyes, overlapping and blending with reality. The voices around them vanished. Emmett's angry protests, Rose's heated muttering, Carlisle's attempts at civilized logic, and Esme's soft cries – they all disappeared.
"Jasper," Alice murmured. Her singsong soprano was low, shaking, and it held a desperation Jasper had never heard before. "Stay… stay here. They will accept it if just I go. I can convince them. I've seen it."
Jasper closed his eyes, reining in the violence that boiled beneath, because he knew that there was more behind her words, more things she didn't want him to know. She'd been fighting Bella's fate for too long now, and he feared where her visions might lead. His grip on her hand tightened, pulling her closer, and he pushed out a grating, "No."
Soothingly, Alice's palms framed his face, her thumbs gently stroking the crescent scars that littered the skin beneath his jaw. "Jazz." Her voice softened at the nickname she had gifted him years ago. "Please."
His eyes opened, searching hers. "Never. Where you go, I go. As it has always been from the moment you found me. Your fate is mine."
"Listen to me," she started again.
"No. For once, Mary Alice, I'm telling you no. We both go." Grimacing, Jasper risked a glance back to the house. "And they leave. We owe it."
Edward heard the intent before the vampire moved or spoke, yet he willed himself immobile, dropping his chin to his chest, yielding and in deference.
Standing to his left, Demetri's voice was quiet, absent of the ever-present anger that lit Jane's thoughts. We can do this here… or beyond the hill if it is something you would rather others not see. Unlike the rest, I care not for spectacle. You know this, as you know that this is not the path I would have preferred you walk.
Why didn't you just come back? Is serving your kind so ghastly? Why a human? Demetri's thoughts were awash with a hundred years of shared memory. Where Eleazar believed, Demetri's mind held doubts. The attachment and fury he'd witnessed that night in Manhattan was far too visceral, too strong to believe that after such lengths, he'd given in.
Edward didn't answer. Instead, turning to Alice, barely moving his lips, he silently asked, "She lives?"
Guilt, fear, and a dozen unnamed emotions scattered across Alice's features, and reluctantly, she reached across the feet between them to lay her hand on Edward's shoulder. Unwilling to see her visions now, fearing what Bella's face would be in that future, alone and in mourning, Edward spun his focus to everyone and everything but Alice and her silently growling mate and smiled.
"Just get it over with, Demetri."
Behind them, Carlisle mutely called, This isn't right, Edward. Not supposed to be like this… We agreed… But I swear to you that we won't leave her again. Ever.
"Alec?"
Wordlessly, Edward watched as the too-familiar translucent shadow instantly appeared and began its approach. Unlike Jane's hellish pain, this was entirely other, the antithesis of her torture. It was cold darkness. It was numbness. It was nothingness and oblivion, and it crept across the grass toward his feet like a rolling fog.
He didn't want that – to feel nothing. To not see her smiling in memory.
"It isn't necessary, Alec." Edward dropped to his knees and lifted his hands. His chest rose and fell with slow, resigned breaths, sucking in the last remnants of Bella's perfume, absorbing and committing it to his very cells. "I won't fight you."
"Very well," Demetri whispered, signaling the boy to withdraw, shoving away the lingering doubts. Edward's eyes closed as two palms, hard as granite and strong as steel, framed his head. I'll make this as painless as possible, Edward. I'm sorry it ended this way.
When Demetri's grip began to tighten, Alice looked to the lightened sky, incapable of watching the outcome that she feared would be the one to truly end Bella. She would live, as Edward so desperately demanded – as they all demanded – yet Alice knew what that living would entail.
Time dragged.
There was a loud creak, the grate of stone on stone, of a vampire's bones twisting, and instantly, her always-spinning second sight halted, pinned to a single, unchanging image. In the future, near and far, she saw the endless tracks of tears, the mindless sobs, the ghost of the girl he would leave behind. In that split second of perfect clarity, Alice witnessed the overwhelming grief that no one – human or vampire – could endure, and she realized that they would save the girl they loved only to condemn her to a greater hell than the Volturi could ever fashion.
Alice's body jerked and moved of its own volition.
Like lightning, a blur of white and dark, she streaked across the feet between them, slamming her small frame into Demetri's larger one, knocking him back a dozen feet.
An abrupt second of brittle stillness followed.
And then the air was filled with peals of thunder as bodies suddenly collided, moving as if in fast-forward, nothing more than impossible-to-follow flashes of motion and sound.
Instantly, Demetri sprang in perfect, practiced motion, grabbing Alice by the throat and throwing her off of him, launching her through the air. Headfirst, she skidded across the wet grass, yet the moment her body stopped, she was up again and running, barreling into his wide chest and dropping him to his feet. They tumbled back to the ground, rolling across the lawn in a tangle of snapping teeth and breaking bones, kicking up sprays of dirt and debris.
Reeling from Alice's intervention, angry and hot, Edward dropped into a low crouch. The splintered cracks that circled his neck burned as venom began knitting his flesh back together, but he barely noticed. There was no time to think – no time to question the pain or what exactly Alice had seen to change their course. Her mind was elsewhere, focused entirely on Demetri and his lethal attack.
Across the field, he found Alec and like a ball from a canon, Edward exploded, sprinting forward to take him down. His soles barely skimmed the earth, leaping over and around any who ventured into his path.
Half way, out of the corner of his eye, there was a whir of black. Instinctively, Edward sidestepped, swinging around just as the figure passed. He yanked Santiago back by the shoulders, pummeling him with his fists until he heard bones shattering. The Volturi commander snarled in pain, but still came at him with soldier precision and rabid devotion, knocking Edward's legs from beneath him with a cracking blow to the knee. Pulling the larger vampire with him, Edward rolled, kicking with his feet, sending the other vampire hurtling through the air and deep into the tree line.
When he looked up, Alec had disappeared in the melee.
Quickly, in less than a second, Edward took in the scene, searching for the target that he knew he must find. To his right, Alice was no longer battling Demetri; Emmett faced him instead, and the two were little more than blurry images of tearing limbs. Despite Emmett's massive strength and crushing blows, trained and battle worn, Demetri held the upper hand, delivering crushing hits to his midsection.
Somewhere behind him, Edward heard Carlisle and Esme. They were tangling with Eleazar, two against one, but the trained scout was fast, dodging their attempts. Carlisle's arm was already torn at the shoulder, hanging loosely, and he was struggling to keep his mate out of the fray.
To the left, Chelsea and Rosalie were squaring off. Long diagonal gashes, wet with venom, cut across the blonde Guard's face and her mind was lost in a mixture of pain and fury. Edward blinked and there was an ear-splitting crack as Chelsea punched through Rosalie's sternum. Rosalie screamed and flung herself at the other vampire, sending them both smashing through the nearest tree. The forest echoed with sounds of their struggle, loud, clapping booms that shook the ground.
Edward turned again, still searching for Alec, and he saw Jasper sprinting across the field in a heedless dash. A picture of warlord efficiency and speed, he darted through the gauntlet of fighting vampires, sliding past slinging arms and snapping teeth, his focus solely bent. Edward's eyes drew his line. At the end was Alice. And Jane.
At the feet of the cherubic child, Alice writhed on the ground, screaming as in her mind, inferno-like flames burned through her body, melting her skin and disintegrating her bones. Her cries were incoherent, mad with agony.
Edward jerked forward, automatically willing her torment to end, but a flicker of dark hair in his periphery caught Edward's eye. Immediately, fluid and strong, he twisted, spinning on his heel and blindly reaching for the vampire behind him. Edward's fist closed around Alec's upper arm, squeezing until he felt the bones shatter and pulverize.
Alec struggled in his grasp, growling and snarling, and Edward's vision began to gray. With each second that passed, his skin cooled, desensitizing, as Alec's numbing fog spread through his limbs. Alec's thoughts were triumphant, arrogant and sure. Edward's head would be his.
Before he was frozen, summoning all his strength and will, with a quick flick of his wrists, Edward lifted Alec by the shoulders, swinging him high overhead, and slammed him into the ground. The numbness immediately receded. Edward's knee dropped onto the boy's chest, crushing his ribs, and he tore at his throat with his teeth.
Bellowing in pain, Alec rammed an elbow into the side of Edward's skull, knocking him away, sending him careening through an old weathered outbuilding in an explosion of wood and crumbled concrete. Edward bolted upright, unfazed, and shot back through the opening in the wall.
He slowed when he saw Alec, waiting and rocking back on his heels.
Back and forth, the two vampires circled, feinting and dodging. Edward had but two options: to keep Alec moving so that he could not concentrate his gift… or kill him.
Alec advanced; Edward stepped right, reading his signals just moments before he made his moves. It was a practiced dance, one that would have downed any other vampire but another Volturi. Alec knew the tricks – how not to think, how to just react.
In the distance, Edward heard Jasper roar and he felt a wave of pure pain pour out from him as Jane lashed him with her mind. Unlike Alice, he didn't fall, however. Instead, he fought to remain upright, all the while coiling a rope of barely leashed terror.
Jane laughed and hit his mind again, but Jasper struck back, whipping his talent like a living thing, targeting the smiling girl. Terror cinched around her, invisible and strong, and Jane shrieked. Falling to the ground, her eyes rolled back and her muscles locked, wracked with convulsive shudders.
"What is he doing to my sister?" Alec growled, as he edged closer, readying his assault.
"Nothing she doesn't deserve," Edward grated.
From behind him, Edward suddenly heard two more Volturi approaching, closing in and surrounding him. At the foot of a nearby hill, at the edge of the trees, Rosalie and Carlisle were broken and fallen in crumpled heaps, and through Demetri's eyes, Edward saw that Emmett was waning fast. Limbs were missing and large chunks of flesh had been torn from his body.
Eleazar and Santiago, both scarred but still standing, rushed him at once. At the last moment, Edward jumped high, twisting his body in the air, and slammed a fist into Santiago's face. Eleazar, however, ducked low, missing Edward's other fist, and his own came around in a crushing backfist to Edward's spine, jarring him and knocking him down mid-air.
Edward pushed himself off the ground but was shoved back down. Face to the earth, a hard boot landed on Edward's shoulder, crunching it inside the socket, and iron claws grabbed him by the neck, twisting to the point where any move would snap it. Eleazar jerked him up, only to push him back to his knees.
Santiago pushed a knee into Edward's back and locked his arms behind him. Above, Alec and Eleazar stood. Alec seethed, his crimson eyes now hard, dark as death, and livid.
Slowly, ever so slowly, as if Alec purposefully drew out each second, Edward felt his body begin to cool once more, and his vision blurred to gray. Struggling, he clinched his fists, but there was no feeling to be found.
Next to his ear, Eleazar growled, "You forget who you fight, Edward. You were close, but we're stronger than you. Than these Cullens. You brought lambs to the slaughter. It should have never come to this. And now you'll all burn."
Edward blinked, trying to focus, as his senses rapidly depleted.
Somewhere in the background, almost as if in a dream, he heard shrieks of vampire flesh rending and ripping, and then he heard Jasper shouting at Alice. There were more shouts, loud but barely intelligible underneath the fog that enveloped him. And there were gruesome sounds of furious snarls and of bones breaking. Alice screamed and somehow, Edward knew that Demetri had managed to reach Jasper.
Now numb, full blackness encroaching, Edward pictured Bella's face in his mind and he murmured the words by rote, the same prayers he uttered a thousand times. He prayed that she would honor her promise – to live – and he begged for her forgiveness.
Bella's heartbeat thudded in his ears, and silently, Edward told her that he loved her.
.
.
A/N:
Latin [courtesy of the fisheaters, translated more in spirit than literal]:
Domine, non sum dignus… Domine, exaudi orationem meam. Esto, turris fortitudinis a facie inimici. Et filius iniquitatis non apponat nocere eam. Domine placere protege eam … – O Lord, I am not worthy ... O Lord, hear my prayer. Be thou, a tower of strength against the face of the enemy. Let not the son of inequity harm her. O Lord, please protect her ...
Italian [thank you, Ms. Annalund and Ms. la_geologia, for approving and fixing my gender grammar fail]:
La mia cantante… con il suo sangue perfetto – My singer... with her perfect blood.