Everything was wrong with the expedition he had foolishly allowed his wife to take part of. The file that had been dropped on his desk had been empty for everything but a sheet of paper that, with a single word, claimed goodbye; and Aro had been able to do nothing more than stare down at the manila card with rage across his features.
It'd been weeks since her departure and he'd wanted to check up on her; so, with the hopes of finding everything he had requested, he'd had opened the file to know what number to reach her at, yet when he did... well, he realised that every single sheet of paper was blank. Everything but that manila card; no number, no destinations, no details such as the ones she'd promised him, just... goodbye. Nothing but a single word that did more for the Master than perhaps a letter would; such a thing that he was sure his wife, his now absolutely loathed wife, had to have known. It was such that, in an instant, Aro was on his feet with his index finger against a dial on the landline. "Eli, fetch Demitri for me." He commanded toward the answering voice at the other end. "Immediately."
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Somewhere atop the slanted rooftop of the Volturi's castle, Demitri Liakos sighed out of boredom from his sitting position; it was still very early in the morning in Italy, and all was quiet. The vampire was down to the last forty minutes of his watch, and everything was as peaceful as always. The grounds were secure, and the city was sleeping; saying that it had been a dull night would have been an understatement. Yet, simply out of nowhere, a voice echoed into his ear from the piece he wore in his ear; a new technology upgrade for the ancient Volturi. It was convenient. "Of course." He spoke at such speeds that only one of his kind would have even been able to tell he'd spoken. "Be right there." With no more word, Demitri stood, his cloak blowing in the wind, and much more so when he blurred away from his spot of watch to rapidly make his way inside the castle and toward his Master's office.
It had been too long for Aro, for by the time three quick knocks echoed from his door the old vampire had resulted to pacing. The sound on his door didn't startle him, of course, nor did it sway him from his line of walk. "Enter!" He called, expecting no one but Demitri; for, if it wasn't, the old Master simply would have no control over if he snapped the intruder's neck or not. Yet, when it was Demitri that entered with a respectful smile across his lips, Aro greeted him with a twist of his own against his pale features. "Ah, Demitri." Only then did he allow himself to break the trail he'd taken onto his pacing; keeping the intrepid grin across his lips regardless of if the subject of his annoyance bled into his words with short emphasis. "How wonderful of you to join me this fine morning."
After a small bow of respect in the direction of his Master, Demitri turned around to close the door of the office. "It's my pleasure." He admitted, but as soon as he allowed his eyes to rest on Aro again, he noticed his strange mood. He was pissed; he could tell not only by the tone of his words, but by his whole demeanour. "What can I do for you today, Master Aro?" He wondered with a gentle spreading grin across his lips whilst his hands rested behind his back. "Kill? Maim? Hunt? Drain?"
The grin Aro wielded dropped from his features the moment Demitri became too cheeky; it was enough for him to drop all the formalities and simply shake his head. "I need you to find my wife." He stated, keeping his murky red eyes on his desk for a moment longer prior to allowing them to land on Demitri once again, who the Master wasn't surprised to have found looking at him with young shock. "You will leave without delay." He stated, taking one step closer toward his subject while becoming highly aware that he would in no way allow his property to leave under the very conditions in which it had, for that was exactly all Sulpicia was to him, now more than ever: his property, and he wanted it back. "And you will not fail." He solely stated. "If you do, I'm afraid there will be dire consequences."
With a short drop of his eyes, Demitri nodded. Was he surprised? Not really, was he scared? Very much so. Would he admit it? Hell no. "Yes, Master." He simply lifted his head to look in the direction of the one who dictated his actions. "I will bring Lady Sulpicia back to you." He frowned for the shortest moments, that, had anyone been looking in his direction, they'd have thought he hadn't even done so at all. "I will not fail you." And though he forced his own hues to remain on Aro's tense frame, Demitri stood tall, straight, quite confident of himself. "Anything else, Master?"
Aro's head instantly shook. "Be quick." He ordered. "Leave now." And then his head lowered in a nod that he would allow to no more than his trusted guardsmen. "Find Sulpicia and bring her back home." He trusted him, Demetri; Aro trusted his gift to bring him exactly what he requested, and to Demetri's misfortune, Aro trusted him to do it quickly. So he turned around, waving the young guard out of his sight, for he had a job to do. And Aro? Well, he had questions to ask.
Demitri nodded, and then left as he was requested to do. Without more hesitation he made his way toward his chambers to pack a small and quick bag. He wouldn't need a lot; that much he knew, but still, it was due to his wondering mind that he was unable to make much sense of what he was doing, packing. The last image he had of Sulpicia had been the very day she'd left, when she'd stopped for a millisecond or two, to smile in his direction; why had she left, if not for the good of the coven? Why had she gone away with word of a plan to make the Volturi stronger if she was going to spit on that idea and run away instead; why hadn't she told him anything? And above all... Why did Dimitri miss her so much?
He decided to leave by foot; A car wouldn't only take too long, but it would be a complete human inconvenience for someone of his kind; as he stepped out of the confines of the Volturi castle onto the stone road, his bright crimson hues lifted to look at the semi-cloudy sky above him; they moved slowly over the tenderly disappearing moon, and then his lids closed; the long breath he took was the only necessary kind for someone like him, thoughts of the considered Queen focused in his mind; her scent, her image, her laugh, her eyes. Every single detail of her burnt into Demitri's soul, searching for something, anything, in his mind that would lead him toward her. And then he saw it; the bright passing images of trees and a sense of direction. He knew where to go as soon as his lids flicked open one more time; and he ran right away. He ran in direction of a place he would have never imagined Sulpicia wanting to go, a place that was considered traitorous toward the Volturi; a place of death: Romania.
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Sulpicia Cancillieri's feet were practically dancing; freedom was their music and they just kept moving. She had a plan; there was a woman she was seeking, someone that would be able to assist her. She needed information, needed to be able to learn more about the witchcraft she'd self-taught to invoke, for only once she had complete control of her power would she be able to lay out her plan.
She knew others in the Volturi wanted to escape, she could see it in their eyes, and she almost hated herself for not having pulled them with her, but she knew it hadn't been the time; if she had acted that day, then lord knew how many would have died for her lack of practice, only He knew how many would come to perish by her husband's hand. Had he seen the empty file yet? Had he sent someone to get her? She knew he wasn't an idiot; it'd already taken him too long. In fact, Sulpicia knew that as much as Aro had wanted to believe her purpose of assisting the Volturi had been led by nothing more than the loyalty she pretended, he would also have seen the static in her thoughts. Would curiosity not get the better of him? Or would he actually wait until he had to check the file of her supposed blank plans?
She continued wondering; and even though she did, with each step she took the hunger grew. The burn in her throat could no longer go ignored, for it had for almost a month; and as her feet carried her toward the closest town, Sulpicia became aware that she needed to find a meal. She was close; she had to stop. The burn was so great that she couldn't continue even if she'd wanted, even if she worried about the time she had before a guard started following on her trail, for she needed blood immediately. Specially once she'd started thinking about it once again.
As she reached the edges of the town, her pushed back instincts kicked in. She was on a mission; blood. Human blood. She craved it; it called to her. The truth was that Sulpicia enjoyed being able to kill again; it was in her nature, yet since her husband came into power and locked her in a tower she had not been allowed to hunt her own food, and she wanted to. She wanted to taste the blood of someone she'd lured and called upon, she wanted the power in her fingertips. The feeling of their heartbeat slowing to a dead stop; she wanted it all.
Her hands balled up into fists as her throat burnt with fiery torture, her eyes scouted the area, determined. One human, she thought, for it was all she needed, nothing more. And as she twisted her neck in search along with her walking steps around the corner of a street, the almost black orbs fell on a young male that crossed the road; the corner of her lips tingled with delight, for he was young, sweet looking and handsome. And she wanted him. For his body and his blood.
Crossing the road, her eyes refused to waver from her target, and she didn't stop until she was right behind him. It was at that moment that the young man stopped and turned around. Their eyes met, and his widened with delight as they raked over the blonde Queen; they did not need words, for they both knew what was going to happen. She took his hand and quickly led him over toward the closest alleyway; his eyes darted toward her many times, and Sulpicia understood why: she was beautiful, he could not resist; it was how they were built, how they were made.
When they reached they alleyway she finally let go of his hand, but just as she knew he would, he continued following her. Her eyes didn't need to look back, and they didn't, he could hear him. "What's your name?" He inquired, watching as she reached the end of the alleyway and finally turned around to face him, which only made him study her features that much more.
A smirk adorned her lips, and a mindless shrug lifted his shoulder momentarily. "Does it matter?" She wondered. He stared at her for a moment before she suddenly realised... he was no sweet boy.
He made his way over to Sulpicia and with no second thought his hands moved down her arms and waist to cup her ass and lift her from the ground until her back was hard up against the concrete wall; her knees parted in response, with him in between them as he attempted to push himself onto her whilst his lips descended on hers. He tasted sweet, and her hands slipped under his shirt to roam slowly over his chest, her fingertips slowly gliding over each muscle; and when he pushed himself harder against her, his scent became overpowering. One of her hands raised to wrap her fingers tightly around his wrist, and it twisted his arm enough to move him away from her. His body turned and his knees almost instantly hit the ground, his back to her.
With her feet back on the pavement, Sulpicia bent next to him, her lips hovering over his in the same seductive manner as before when she whispered into his ear. "Time to die." Her hand twisted further, his arm with it, making him yell out in pain into her hand, which she used to muffle the noises from being heard.
And then he bit her.
"You fucking whore!" He yelled the moment Sulpicia pulled back with surprise and amusement, and she laughed. Her eyes widened and she continued twisting on his arm, feeling sweetly the moment in which his arm popped out of its socket, and then she let it go. It fell and hung useless at his side, and then her frame righted, walking with clicking flats against the pavement as she circled him so she could look right into his eyes.
"That's no way to treat a lady." She whispered, tsk'ing her tongue a couple of times with the amused expression unable to slip from her features; but that was enough. She would have played with her food a lot longer, but she was famished, she felt the calling of his blood onto her system, she needed it; and so she took it. Her frame moved as if in a blur, and within the next second her mouth had moved to his neck; her teeth descended and she sliced through his flesh, and then that which she'd wanted began to pour out slowly. The exquisite taste fountained out of his vein and released into her throat; she devoured the red liquid lavishly and her hand moved over his heart to enjoy it's slowing beats, one... two... slowly three... and then silence.
Sulpicia breathed in satisfaction as her head lifted away from the useless empty body; she let it fall out of her grasp and onto the pavement, and she rose slowly with a new source of energy rushing through her insides. It was her first real kill in centuries, and she could feel the blood surging through her better than she ever had; better than she ever dreamed.
With that, Sulpicia fixed her cloak, grabbed out her compact mirror from one of the cloak's many compartments, and checked that no blood was visible on her visage before walking out of the alleyway; she could beging the swiftly run once again out of the small town.
To Be Continued.