A/N: There be references to DC comics / DCEU (particularly a paraphrased quote out of Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice) and Interview With a Vampire (actually only the title, but I thought I'd point that out anyway). Thank you everyone who read last chapter, and thank you for commenting. It makes me happy to know that you are having fun following the story. We're slowly moving toward the great finale! So please stay tuned and enjoy!
Chapter Twenty-Eight
1 The next part of the experiment required a little more preparation. Irina stayed right where she was, in the corridor of curiosities, whilst Aro used his phone to call someone she presumed was security. She wanted to ask him what was going to happen next, but he'd probably just tell her to wait and see, anyway. Little later, two vampires in grey uniforms arrived: a tall and muscular woman who wore her dark hair in a thick braid, and a slightly shorter, wiry man whose red beard was neatly trimmed and whose long hair was pinned up in a sideways bun; this reminded Irina of an exhibit about pagan Germanic tribes she'd once visited about a decade ago. Both new arrivals looked all business and didn't seem like they had much tolerance for nonsense.
The woman, sharp-featured and long-limbed, had that unfortunate olive-tinged pallor to her skin vampires always got if they used to be people of colour during their human lives. The shock they went through upon awakening to their vampire existence must be even worse than it had been for Irina and the likes of her. At least Irina had always been white. People of colour woke up after days of unimaginable suffering to find not only their bodies changed and their faces nearly unrecognisable, but they found themselves white-washed, too. How could anyone ever choose to have every ounce of individuality and cultural identity stripped from them to become an undead doll who only survived on the lives of others? How was that any better than a mortal and flawed, but human and natural existence? The answer was simple: it wasn't. She didn't want to whine, but given a choice, she'd always return to a human existence, preferably to her own time and the people she had once loved.
Somehow, all this brought Bella Swan to mind – Bella, her naiveté, her idiocy, and her mind-blowing arrogance.
Irina hoped that Charlie Swan and Leah Clearwater were okay, but mostly, she wished it for Demetri, who had been nothing but her friend. Sure, she could try to blame him for dragging her into this mess, but she had wanted revenge for Laurent, and not only hadn't Demetri forced her to do anything, he hadn't had the slightest clue about how dire the situation truly was. Her choices were hers alone, and the consequences hers to bear. Pointing fingers was always a waste of energy, anyway. At least now Irina had a chance to be useful, to do something that benefited others instead of causing further harm. That had got to count for something. Maybe there was at least an ounce of redemption left for her, even if the many lives she had taken could never be brought back. The suffering she had caused could never be erased, the potential she had eradicated was lost forever. None of it could be undone.
She hoped so badly that Aro was right about her ability to silence a dhampir's psychic powers. Even if it only worked with Fiora, it would count as a huge success. The girl deserved a life, not this kind of hopeless, eternal suffering. Irina wouldn't wish that fate upon her worst enemy, let alone a girl who couldn't help what she was. Yes, Fiora was a monster, but not by choice. Maybe she could be redeemed, too.
The guards positioned themselves in front of Aro, who nodded at both of them, smiling. Both of them smiled back. Irina wasn't really surprised. It was pretty hard to fight the impulse. She was pretty sure that if he unleashed the full force of his charm, no-one would be able to resist.
Okay, maybe Jasper, but he'd been a psychopath even as a human, so he didn't really count. Here was to hoping Leah had killed him by now.
"Dear ones, I have a very important task for you. You may be surprised when I tell you what I need from you, but trust me: I have a very good reason," Aro said gravely, looking from the woman to the man and back again. Both remained silent and kept watching him, enraptured. "I'm going to open one of these doors" – He motioned about with a slow wave of his right arm – "and you are going to make sure that when Irina here goes inside, she will not be harmed. After she has exited the cell again, you will take the prisoner and carry him to the end of the corridor."
The redhead's even redder eyes widened, but the woman remained impassive.
"Who?" she said.
"Atenulf," Aro said, and both other vampires visibly tensed up.
This didn't exactly bode well. Irina started feeling a little squirmy, herself. "Who is that?"
Aro turned to her, wearing a smile on his face that looked ferocious, yet somehow cold as ice. Oh, whoever it was that he felt deserved that particular expression was a very unlucky bastard. "That, sweet girl, is Fiora's father."
2 It was Charlie who wrapped up Jacob's body in a sheet because he insisted he be the one to do it. Leah had, in the interim, washed herself and her hair as best she could under the circumstances, and was now sitting on the huge bed again, propped up against the pillows. She had her emotions under control again, at least on the surface, and felt like she could put off grieving – really grieving – until this whole stupid mess was over and done with, for better or for worse.
Demetri had made himself useful yet again and had cooked some spaghetti and tomato sauce, which Leah and Charlie were now forcing down their gullets. Charlie had brought up a chair from the kitchen and kept unhappily sticking his fork into his food, whilst Leah, the one with the hole in her chest, managed to be a little more successful. Of course neither of them was hungry, but that didn't matter. Both of them needed sustenance.
"How long do you think it will take B…I mean, it will take the other three to get to Port Angeles?" Charlie said at some point.
Leah didn't exactly blame him for not wanting to think about the fact that one of the undead, murderous leeches that subsided off human blood had once been his daughter. She was barely holding up as it was, herself.
"Several hours, depending on how quickly they're able to run," Demetri, who stood by the big window and looked out into the sunshine, replied. "They'll probably reach their destination some time tonight."
"Man, I really hope this infallible comic-book plan of ours works," Leah said, mouth half-full with spaghetti. "If it doesn't, we'll be coming back to everyone being dead, and I don't think my brain can take that. I got to be honest with you guys. Hell, I'm only cool right now because I'm pretty sure the last fuse has finally blown."
"It'll work," Charlie said, obviously trying to sound confident, but not quite managing. Events had taken their toll on him, too. It would be disconcerting if they hadn't. "You'll see."
"I don't know," she said, placed the almost empty bowl on her outstretched legs, and shrugged. "Even if mostly everything goes right, we'll still be depending upon the kindness of monsters."
"Not only. Humans are pretty tough, not to mention ingenious. Just because someone doesn't have superpowers, it doesn't mean that they are powerless," Demetri said slowly, thoughtfully. He kept his eyes fixed on the vista outside. It was likely that he didn't get to go out in the sun much due to discretion reasons and the sparkle situation (although he had ways of managing that one). Since he was perpetually cold, being mostly trapped inside when the weather was this lovely must be torture for the poor guy. "And at least some of the monsters are on our side."
"On our side," Charlie echoed, snorted dry laughter, and shook his head. "Man, I never thought I'd be part of the team of weirdest superheroes ever."
"A human, a vampire, and a werewolf with a gaping hole in her chest walk into a bar," Leah said flatly. "When are you gonna call the albino?"
This time, Demetri did glance at her over his shoulder. "Right now. Maybe I can convince him to actually hear me out."
"Wouldn't bet on it, kid," Charlie replied gruffly, and started poking his lunch with the business end of his fork again.
"I don't, but I do like to hope for the best." Demetri fished his phone out of his jacket pocket and beheld it thoughtfully. "It's the moment of truth, and there's no time like the present." He dialled Caius's number and put the phone on speaker. Maybe they didn't need to go through with their plan. Maybe things would, for once, work out without complications.
Leah still didn't feel inclined to place any bets, though.
3 Of course, the FBI taskforce leader refused to talk to any sort of press, so she wouldn't talk to June, either, but that didn't even matter. Let them and the regular press do their thing. No, June and Jerry had a hot lead all of their own, an exclusive one courtesy of a man who…who…well, who was either the key to answering all the questions raised by this incredible mystery, or who was stark raving mad. June herself was inclined to believe the former, only because of what she herself had seen and what Betty Williams had told her. Vampires, tribal werewolves, super-powered dhampirs…June had always been a science fiction and fantasy junkie, but had she actually believed in any of it?
Her mind had been open to the possibility, sure, but scepticism was always advisable both to sci-fi fans and journalists. On the other hand, denying reality once reality became undeniable was the flip side of being a sceptic, which could be equally damaging. The reality was that she and Jerry had just conducted an interview with a vampire and were now on their way to helping said vampire save the Earth from an unholy abomination in the shape of a cute little girl. Could be worse. It couldn't be any better, though.
They drove to La Push in silence, each keeping to their own thoughts. Both of them knew the evidence was irrefutable. Supernatural beings lived among them. Given the fact that the Cullens had been as conspicuous as all hell for the past few decades at least, it was a right wonder that people in general hadn't found out about them until now.
People. Huh. Humans? Not only – not anymore. It never occurred to her that at some point, she'd have to broaden her perspective of the term 'people'.
The sky was overcast. The earlier drizzle turned into bona fide bucketing. June switched the windshield wipers on. Jerry was staring out the passenger-side window, frowning slightly, chewing on his plump lower lip.
After casting him a few furtive, sideways looks, she said, "We don't have to do this."
He straightened up, turned to face her, and arched his eyebrows. "Yes, we do."
"For all my bubbly enthusiasm, I'm not exactly Lois Lane, Jer. I realise that sometimes, things are just too much for regular people, people like us, to deal with." Briefly, she reached out and gave his long-fingered, thin hand a little squeeze. "The last thing I want is put your life in danger. There'll be other good stories."
"It's not just about the story, or even satisfying our curiosity," he said, sounding thoughtful. "You heard the guy. This is about stopping what's basically Doomsday, the baby edition, to cling onto your DC comics metaphor. They need our help to stop this thing. It doesn't even matter that we don't have any superpowers. It's a the-good-of-the-many kind of deal."
"It is. You're right. All I'm saying is that if your life gets risked, I will think twice about letting you strut confidently into the warzone."
He snickered. "And you think I'll let you get all the credit for saving the world? Fat chance, girlfriend."
"If only it was about stealing credit," she said, smiling grimly. "That's the whole point of us jumping into the snake pit. People at large can't find out."
"Story of a lifetime, and no-one will get to see it."
She sighed, wistful. "We'll think of something clever, and even if we don't: you heard the British vampire. We help him save humanity, and he gives us a cover story. Everyone's happy. Quid pro quo."
"Quid pro quo," he said quietly, and took a deep breath. "We're almost there, now, and before you ask again: no. I'm not gonna bail. If you pull a Lois Lane, then I pull a Jimmy Olsen. This is non-negotiable."
"You and me all the way, Lopes," she said, and ruffled his dark hair. "Let's go play with the neighbourhood monsters."
4 They were halfway back to Port Angeles, specifically by Lake Helen in the Lassen Volcanic National Park. The landscape was ruggedly beautiful: the still, nearly circular lake was nestled between jagged, grey mounts whose slopes were lined by dark-green pine trees. The hills' crests were sprinkled with snow. The lake reflected the deep blue of the clear sky.
"I always liked California," Bella told Jasper. She was standing still as stone, watching him, feeling the cold breeze but registering no emotional response caused by it. As a human, she would have complained, because it had been almost a hobby of hers to complain about the weather. Now, she didn't care. It was somewhat strange to admit this, but caring about anything other than herself seemed rather impossible. To be perfectly honest, there'd been little she ever cared about even before becoming an immortal. "I insisted Charlie take me here to vacation with him for two weeks a year, instead of being bored in Forks for a month. He didn't approve, saying something about how our time together got cut short in half, but I put my foot down. Those were my vacations, and I wanted to bask in the sunshine."
"Good on you, girlfriend," Jasper said, briefly smirking up at her. He was kneeling by the lifeless body of Renesmee, who was sprawled on the stony ground.
The reason for this pause was that while they were running, Bella had not only felt Renesmee's neck starting to fix itself again, she'd also realised that the girl's body had been getting heavier. Renesmee was technically dead, was not breathing, didn't have a metabolism, and yet, she was still growing. Therefore, Jasper had suggested they stop for a few minutes and examine the child, see if she might be a threat to them – well, not them specifically, but others around them. Bella and Jasper were both immune, which was another thing that made them superior not only to mortals, but to regular vampires, as well.
"What do you think she might be capable of if we let her wake?" Bella said, deadpan, watching them without feeling the need to make a human expression appear on her flawless face.
"The real question is, what might she be capable of if we don't?" he said, and placed a hand on Renesmee's round, smooth little forehead. She was growing quicker than she had before, now looking like a first-grader at least. "I can feel her in my head, trying to persuade me to let her wake. It won't work, of course, just like my powers don't work on her, but I can still feel it." He glanced up at Bella again. The steely sunshine glinted in his red eyes and made his skin explode in a million sparkles. It was beautiful.
Beauty was always admirable, wasn't it? No matter at what price it came. If that wasn't true, then the torment of her transformation was worth nothing, and that was something she could not accept.
Oblivious of her musings, he added, "We need to take some extra precautions, here, darling. Believe me when I tell you that you don't want her to wake up, scream, and raise an army of zombies at a moment's notice. The Volturi tops will forgive us ditching the sappy werewolf-lover, but drawing even more attention to ourselves than we already have won't fly."
A sharp wind blew. A wispy cloud covered the sun for a brief moment. Bella shook some of her long, wavy hair out of her pale face. "Can we do anything apart from breaking her neck over and over again?"
"We can break her arms, too, for further security," he said, and shrugged. "I think we should silence her, as well, just to make sure, though that'll probably be permanent. Not that I'll miss those docile tones that would send Cthulhu running for the hills, screaming in agony."
Bella frowned. "Silence her? What…?" That, however, was when the proverbial penny dropped. "You want to remove her vocal chords."
The smirk returned with a vengeance. "And they say lil' Bella is stupid."
She smiled a little, almost feeling it. "And then, we can present her to Caius on a platter, tell him about Demetri's failure, and guarantee our special place with the Volturi."
"Yes, ma'am," he said, obviously gleeful. "Maybe superior ability does breed arrogance, but in most cases, the poor, inferior bastards are just jealous."
"I think so, too," she said, raising her hands to marvel at the glorious sparkly glitter shining from her impenetrable, beautiful skin. It was the skin of an immortal, the skin of a natural-born killer, the skin of utter perfection. "We're on our way to the top, Jasper, where we belong."
"Again, she's right on the money." He focussed his attention on the lifeless girl again. "Now let's take good care of you, sweetheart."
5 It was the early afternoon when Caius's phone rang. He had been trying to reach his obstinate underling for hours, now, but Demetri either couldn't pick up, or – and this was the less savoury alternative – simply refused to. Caius himself was inclined to believe the latter, keeping in mind how protective the boy had been of the wretched Quileute wolves, especially that impertinent and tactless female. What was with that lad and his bleeding heart? Didn't he know that werewolves were always the enemy, no matter how civilised they might seem? This was especially the case with the Quileutes, who were only capable of phasing into animals in the first place because of the existence of vampires. They were the very definition of a vampire's natural enemy. How could Demetri not see that? How could he be so blinded by all that sentimentality he so stubbornly clung on to? It was quite vexing, to say the least.
Caius took the call and pressed the phone to his ear hard enough to make the small machine creak. "Tell me you killed the wolf and that you're en route to Port Angeles."
"Caius, you have to listen to me."
Well, of course. He exchanged a long-suffering look with Quirina, who was keeping him company whilst the other three were out to feed as discreetly as possible under the circumstances. They'd been following the growing media circus and the rather infrequent updates by the authorities, who were still in the process of sorting out the evidence collected at the ruins of the Cullen mansion. It was high time the vampires wrapped up their hazardous operation and returned to Volterra – high time indeed.
"You had your orders," Caius said icily, as he stared out the glass doors at the bay without registering a thing. His right hand shot up to his scarred throat. "Come back immediately."
"I can't. Leah Clearwater is too badly wounded, and I-"
"I see you made your choice. The tribe's fate is sealed, then."
"It doesn't have to be that way. We have an idea that will solve all our problems neatly, and I am positive that-"
"It has to be that way because you made your choice, Demetri. I told you to choose; you chose. That's all there is to it."
"If you kill those people, you'll be making a huge mistake." Demetri was sounding more and more exasperated, but not really surprised. Well, if that was the case, he might as well just stop arguing, because all that did was waste time.
On the other side of the line, a female voice said, "I hate to say I told you so, but…"
Ah, the illustrious and all-around popular Miss Clearwater. Charming. "Bring me the dhampir and stop arguing."
"That's what I was trying to tell you: Jasper and Bella went rogue and stole the dhampir. They're currently on their way to you, I can sense that much, but there's no telling what exactly their agenda is."
Caius gnashed his teeth together. It was all he could do not to punch through a wall and kill something. "What?" It was hardly above a whisper.
"Listen: they are dangerous and can't be trusted, and that dhampir is even stronger than-"
"They can't be trusted? You're plotting with a damn werewolf, and they can't be trusted?" When Caius felt Quirina's cool hand on his shoulder, he realised that he'd started to shout.
"Caius, I am not plotting with anyone. I am doing my job and trying to help contain this thing."
Coldly, Caius retorted, "I think you've helped enough. Bring me the survivors and then keep tracking the dhampir. Everything else you can just forget about. I'll not argue with you."
A little pause ensued. Then, in the background, a male voice – Chief Swan's, it had to be – said, "Tell him, kid."
"Tell me what?" Caius barked, beyond irritated, and spun around to lock eyes with Quirina, whose brow was creased ever so slightly.
"Check your phone for a video I just sent you," Demetri said, his voice quiet but firm. "If you don't agree to meet with me and my friends and listen to what we have to say, this will go straight to every social networking site on the planet." He paused. "I'm sorry, but you leave me no choice. I will not stand by idly and watch you commit genocide. It's a monstrous thing to do, and if I can stop you, I will."
As if on cue, Caius's phone bleeped. Again, he exchanged an irritated look with Quirina, but more than irritation, he now felt something that he hadn't in a very, very long time: a hint of insecurity. Pain flared in his throat. He thought of his last conversation with Aro, how unhappy the latter had been about the werewolf ultimatum, about Caius's handling of the crisis at hand. Also: would Demetri really go this far and actually blackmail his own general? If that was so, would this give Aro pause and cause him to reconsider his decision to back Caius in this matter? It might. It actually might. Aro had always been fond of experiments, including social ones, and he was susceptible to pacifist propaganda.
With a certain degree of trepidation, Caius downloaded the attachment, opened it, and watched in horror. He played the video file again and again and again. Then, he crushed the phone to his ear, and whispered, "You traitor."
"No. I'm true to our people and our objectives as ever. Nevertheless, times are changing, and we need to change, as well, or perish," Demetri said levelly. He most likely knew that at least for the moment, he had the upper hand. "More death will only draw the humans' attention. That is something we can't afford. All I ask is that you listen to what I have to say without trying to murder me, Leah, or Charlie. We have a way of regaining control over the situation."
"Come back here, and we'll talk," Caius said, and cut the connection. He let the phone drop to the thick carpeting as if it were burning his skin.
Quirina was eyeing him with what he identified as concern, even though most other vampires would not recognise it as such. She was Roman; her emotions were contained, her expressions minimalistic. "Alec should take care of them the moment they arrive."
"Yes," he said flatly. "It's an unnecessary loss, but I have no choice."
"Aro will find out. He will be displeased."
"I'll deal with that once the time comes." He only just refrained from raising a hand to his throat again. "As for now, let's tie up our loose ends, shall we, and then return home."
"Yes," she said, offering him the subtlest hint of a smile. "We'll kill them all and then burn the place to the ground."
6 "Was it smart to let yourself be caught on film doing vampire-y things?" Leah said, watching Demetri stash away his phone, as Charlie helped her change her bandage. The wound was healing quicker now that she actually didn't have to fight for her life every five seconds and that she'd forced herself to eat a bowlful of spaghetti. "You're running the risk of becoming the face of the supernatural for all the world, which could backfire spectacularly."
He stuffed his hands into his jacket pocket and shrugged. "We needed some leverage. It's for the greater good."
Charlie glanced at him, one eyebrow arched. "Usually a phrase people say to justify being jerks to others."
"Since I'm the one putting myself at risk, it shouldn't become problematic." The corners of his mouth twitched a little. "And before you say it, no, I most decidedly do not intend to make a noble self-sacrifice. I'm not that selfless. I want to ride off into the sunset just like everybody else, and I fully expect to do just that in the end." A little quieter, he added, "Just not at the expense of an entire tribe of people."
"Don't you worry about coming across as too martyr-y," Leah said, and drew in a sharp, ragged breath when Charlie applied antiseptic spray to her wound. "We'll all be putting our asses on the line very soon. I take it Albino Fucker will double-cross you – I mean, us?"
All the muscles in Demetri's face tightened. "Of course he will. He'll use Alec to rob us of our senses the moment we're in sight."
Leah grimaced. "What a great leader."
"Unfortunately, that is not something I have any sort of influence over. I-"
"Wait." Charlie stopped re-bandaging and sat up straight, half-turning to look at Demetri again. This time, both his eyebrows wandered up. "He can only immobilise who he can see? Did I get that right?"
"That is correct, yes, but hiding from a vampire, especially one that old, is not exactly easy."
"That's why we've enlisted Sam," Leah said, trying hard not to tense up. Man, this antiseptic stuff stung like a mother. At least the wound was slowly closing. The little things were what made life worth living, weren't they? "And that's why you've enlisted your mystery friends, too."
"Mystery friends," Charlie echoed, snorted, and finished applying the fresh bandage. "You really think it's a good idea to call those people?"
The expression on Demetri's face became slightly amused, at least as far as Leah could tell. "Frankly, no, I don't," he said, "but I really don't see any other option. We need all the assistance we can get – that, and the distraction they'll provide. You'll agree that the distraction has to work in order for everything else to work, as well."
"And the Big Gun?" Leah said.
A small smile curved up the corners of his mouth. "The Big Gun, too, but only once our plan's been set into motion."
"Don't you mean if, kid?"
"No, I mean once. This will work. It has to."
"It will," Leah said, thinking of Jared and Embry and Jacob and Seth everyone else who was never coming back, who was either corrupted or dead or just damaged beyond repair, one way or another. Maybe she was beyond good and evil, too. Maybe. Probably. Useless to whine about it. She straightened up. "Oh, it will."
7 The man in the cell was not very tall, but broad-shouldered, muscular, and generally rather bulky. He had long-ish, unevenly cut dark hair, the strands at the front reaching to his chin, the ones at the back down to his shoulders. Judging by the ratty shirt, moth-eaten doublet, and knee-length hose he was wearing, he hadn't changed his clothes since the Renaissance.
They really made them to last, back then, Irina thought dryly.
Vampires' figures didn't change when they starved, but one could see the malnutrition in their pitch-black eyes and the half-crazed, haunted looks on their perfectly symmetrical faces. The man was chained up, albeit not as tightly as Fiora. When the two guards opened the door, he – Atenulf, that was his name – twitched where he was lying on the stone floor.
"Irina, if you please," Aro said, placing a hand on her shoulder. "He's too weakened and can't hurt you. We need to find out whether the creature's hold on him can be broken."
"I understand," she said quietly, and looked the chained-up wretch straight in the eye. "I'm sorry. This is going to hurt."
Biting another vampire was not the same as biting a living creature with a beating heart. No-one knew exactly what a vampire was, precisely. Were they animated corpses? Were they new lifeforms entirely? Were they propelled by some sort of curse or magic? Their skin was harder to break and, for all intents and purposes, they didn't have a circulation. However, they could still be slowed down by another vampire's venom; they could also, which was a whole other level of inexplicably strange, have sex. How did that work? No-one knew. As scientific discoveries advanced, the answers would probably come one day, but up until now, the inner workings of a vampire's body were a complete and utter mystery.
At this precise moment, though, such musings were pretty moot. Irina darted into the cell, sank her fangs into Atenulf's throat, pumped her venom into him, and scurried back outside. Atenulf uttered a weird, gurgling cry, convulsed, and started shaking uncontrollably. His eyelids fluttered. Spittle flew from his mouth.
"Does your bite always have this effect on others of our kind?" Aro said, sounding genuinely curious.
"It has, so far. My sisters always say that I'm pure poison," she replied, feeling a sting of sadness pierce her guts at the thought of them.
They must be so worried about her. Here was to hoping they'd stay put as ordered. The last thing Irina wanted was to cause them pain, even indirectly.
No.
Actually, the last thing she wanted was for them to hurt, no matter what the cause of the pain was. That was more accurate and made other people's potential suffering less about how she might feel about it. It wasn't easy, curbing her selfish tendencies – the selfish tendencies someone who was basically immortal was bound to get – but she was trying. She felt that she had to. Self-awareness was, she was told, the first step to recovery, and there was a lot of recovery ahead of her.
"I'm sure your sisters mean it affectionately," Aro said, a smile in his voice, and then addressed the two guards: "Dear ones, please take him to Fiora's cell, but be careful. Weakened though he might be, he's still very dangerous."
Wordlessly, the two went about their business. Atenulf was in no condition to fight them, being weakened and chained up and poisoned and probably insane. He wasn't breathing, but he was twitching and convulsing. His fangs came out and went in again. His eyes rolled back, so that only the whites were visible. His mouth hung open, venom dripping from his gums.
If Irina hadn't met Fiora first, he'd definitely be the most pitiful creature she'd ever seen. This was so, so awful. She felt Aro brushing his fingers against her hand.
"I know," he said. His voice was level. There was something like compassion in it, but it was impossible to tell whether the sentiment was genuine, whether it was faked for her convenience, or even whether she was only imagining it in the first place. "Yes, I do keep him locked up and starved as some kind of penance, but also because he used to be a loyal member of my coven, and I really want to exhaust all options before resorting to execution."
Thinking about her first meeting with Fiora, Irina couldn't help but again think that death would probably be the kinder option.
"Mm," he made, and chuckled dryly. "Probably, yes. But there is still hope. He cannot help the corruption. Maybe you can, though. Come on, now, dear. Let's hope for the best whilst preparing for the worst."
The two guards – tall dark woman and short-ish pagan Germanic man – had dragged the helpless Atenulf to the end of the corridor, where they stopped, not letting go of his arms or the chains that bound him. They were wired and tense and obviously prepared to act at a moment's notice. It was impossible to tell whether they approved of the order, disapproved, or were indifferent to it. What was obvious was their visible apprehension. No, that wasn't correct. This wasn't apprehension at all. It was fear.
This didn't exactly fill Irina with a lot of confidence.
"Let's hope you're wrong," Aro said, let go of her hand, and moved to Fiora's cell in a flash. He smiled down at Atenulf, who blinked up at him with an expression of horror and desolation on his ashen face. "And let's hope for your sake that this experiment is the one that finally yields a positive result, my lad. Either way, your suffering will soon be over; I promise you that." He exchanged looks with his guards. "Are you ready?"
Both guards nodded curtly.
"Irina?"
"Yes," she said, and moved closer. Her muscles coiled, and she felt the urge to let the fangs out. There was no need for that, yet, but there was also no harm in being prepared.
Aro unlocked the cell door. His smile broadened, making him look oddly boyish, like a kid waiting to set off particularly spectacular fireworks. He was giddy. He was actually giddy and obviously hopeful. "Ready?"
They were as ready as they would ever be, Irina figured.
The guards nodded again, terse and ready to jump at the slightest sign of trouble.
Atenulf's pitch-black eyes grew even wider.
"All right, then," Aro said, and opened the door.
8 The address Matthew Darcy, a.k.a. Demetri the Vampire had given June led to a pretty white bungalow by the side of the road, only one block away from the beach. A jeep was parked in front of it. The house wasn't very large, but it was obviously looked after with a lot of care. It was in much better shape than June's apartment back in New York, that was for sure.
She parked the Beetle by the driveway and turned off the engine. For a moment, she and Jerry just sat there in awkward silence.
Finally, she said, "Nothing for it, then. Let's get this over with," opened the door, and hopped outside into the rain. It wasn't bucketing as hard as it had been five minutes ago, though, and the weather forecast predicted sunshine for tomorrow. All in all, there was no reason to complain. She waited for Jerry to follow her lead, locked the car, stuffed the key into her jacket pocket, and trudged up the driveway to the bungalow's front door.
"You got your taser ready?" Jerry said flatly.
"Not helping, you know," she replied, ignored her wildly beating heart as best she could, and rang the doorbell.
A couple of seconds later – the ding-dong's aftersound was still lingering in the air – the door was opened, revealing a very tall, broad-shouldered young man who glowered down at June out of dark eyes. It was the same guy who'd told her to get lost, earlier. Coincidences, coincidences.
"Hey, remember me? I'm-"
"I already told you that I know who you are. Come in," the young man said huffily, stepping aside.
"You must be the charming Mister Uley we heard so much about," Jerry said, deadpan, and followed June into the house.
"Let's cut the crap and just get this nonsense over with, shall we?" Probably Sam Uley said, and it didn't seem like he was even trying to hide his irritation.
"Right," June said, deliberately chipper, and clapped her hands together. "Vampires to catch, werewolves to save. Now what's the plan, boss?"
Uley frowned even harder. Wow. That had got to be painful to keep up for more than a few seconds at a time. For shame. Hadn't his dear mom taught him that if he scowled and pouted long enough, the clock might strike, leaving him stuck with that expression forever? "Leah shouldn't have told you."
"It was a guy who told us," Jerry said, annoyance seeping into his own voice, "and yes, he should have. Even if not, he did, so stop complaining and deal with it. We have to work together, so let's really cut the crap and actually work together. You can spare me the righteous anger routine, pal, coz I'm from Brooklyn and that shit don't fly with us, understand?" The deliberately inserted Brooklyn accent came courtesy of the house, as was the Way of the Lopes.
June elbowed him in his protruding ribs. "Nice speech, bunny."
"Thank you." He tugged down on his sweater and gave Uley a look that just dared him to do something about the sass. Jerry might be half the guy's size and not even a third his weight, but he'd never been one to be intimidated by pure physical force.
Miraculously, Uley's frown dissipated, and he even chuckled, shaking his head. "There's always need for brave people, and you two seem to have enough of that to spare." Yeah, no, it wasn't exactly an apology, but better that than getting one's butt kicked. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans and headed toward the living room. "Come on in. Let's talk shop."
"Oh, let's," June said, grabbed Jerry's arm, and towed him along. This crazy scheme might actually work. It might kill them, too, but it wasn't her style to be pessimistic. No, it would work. Nobody would sing their praises for it, but they'd help save the world, and in the end, a good world-saving was its own reward.
9 The afternoon was wearing away when Leah and co. finally decided to pack it up and leave Mexico. It was Maria's recommendation, too. She was still in the midst of the cover-up, but the longer the trio of foreigners stayed, the greater the chance of discovery became. Also, it shouldn't take American authorities much longer to find out about the connection between Demetri and Charlie Swan, so they'd probably put out an APB fairly soon. It could only be a matter of days at the most. They needed to get their move on, and quickly.
Leah still wasn't able to do much physically, but she kept assuring the worried menfolk that she was okay to travel. She even managed to redress the bandage by herself before they took off, although her attempt to walk down the stairs was a bit of a failure, and she grudgingly asked Demetri to carry her down into the living room. Before she could whine at him, however, he said that he was having none of it and that it was not a sign of weakness to admit that sometimes, people needed to rely on each other and that there were problems one could not solve without help.
Okay, point went to Yuppie Vamp yet again. He definitely had a habit of making sense on a regular basis, didn't he? History would decide whether this was adorable or annoying or perhaps a mix of both.
After she and Charlie forced themselves to eat the rest of the spaghetti, they packed whatever they needed and took off, but not before receiving guarantees from Maria that she'd take care of all loose ends and that she had nothing to do with Jasper's little riot act.
Demetri assured her that he believed her, helped Leah settle down on the rental car's backseat with a number of pillows and a blanket, told Charlie that the designated driver should always be the guy who required no sleep and not a person suffering from a concussion, and hopped behind the steering wheel. Then, they drove off toward the Mexico-USA border, hoping for the best but not expecting much of an eventual awesome turnout. It would already be a bit of a miracle if they managed to save the Quileute people, so that was what Leah would focus on.
"Did your friends say when they'll be able to meet us?" Charlie said from the passenger seat, and yawned.
Leah had been on the verge of dozing off, herself. Sleep was a luxury good, these days, and she had just taken the last of the heavy-duty pain meds, too.
"They'll call me, but I'd say tomorrow, when we reach the rendezvous point."
"You have quite a track record of hanging out with freaks, don't you?" Leah said drowsily, watching the golden light of the setting sun reflecting off the sky-scrapers they were passing by. "Me, our newest co-conspirators…"
"Well," Demetri said, glancing at her through the rear-view mirror, smiling slightly, "it takes one to know one, as the saying goes."
"True that, brother," she said, and allowed her eyes to close. Her lids had just gotten too damn heavy. A few deep breaths later, she fell into a dark, heavy, dreamless sleep.
10 It was already dark when Jasper, Bella, and the newly modified Renesmee reached Port Angeles, but the darkness didn't matter. Vampire eyes were far superior to human or even werewolf eyes, and so, it took only the smallest amount of light for Bella to be able to see with perfect clarity. The post-transformation blindness was a thing of the past, even if the pain of those months was still fresh in her mind. It didn't matter, though. All that living human blood she'd consumed helped her control her feelings, helped her detach herself from whatever humanity she might have left lingering in her brain. She'd taught herself to think of this as a good thing, a necessary thing. Human Bella had been weak and pathetic. Vampire Bella was perfect in every way. It was as simple as that.
She was a vampire – no point in pretending otherwise. It made far more sense to embrace her nature and revel in it. Being monstrous might be evil, but if evil was superior, then why should it bother her that she might be judged by so-called good, but weak people? If those creatures were her prey, things she drained dry for sustenance, did it even make sense to think of them as people? Not in a practical sense. Alice had once said that it helped to think of humans as people, but she'd meant to say that this made it easier not to kill them. Bella now understood that killing was her nature. The need to even pretend that humans were anywhere near the same level of an immortal was gone.
"See that building over there, right by the bay, with the balconies?" Jasper said, pointing ahead, toward the water.
They were by the side of a street or other (what did human denominations even matter?), where no-one could spot them. Human sight was so puny. The world's most lethal predator might be lurking in the shadows not ten feet away from them, and they couldn't even see them. Pathetic. Weak. Hideous. Human. She now remembered how useless she had been, how lethargic, just because she'd lacked the strength and invulnerability to fight alongside the others. Now, though, should she choose to unleash all her might upon humanity, they would tremble in fear before her.
Smiling with what she was sure was beautiful ferocity, she said, "I see it. The hotel."
"Yes, ma'am. We'll be there in a couple minutes, presenting our trophy to Caesar."
The smile grew into a grin. "And then, we'll collect our reward."
Out of nowhere, he grabbed her by the hair, pulled her to himself, and crushed his lips against hers. When he pulled back, he was grinning. "Finally, you've become the right kind of monster, Miss Swan – a monster made in my own image."
"I have," she said, staring in awe at his unique, scarred yet beautiful face, nearly forgetting the fact that she was carrying what must be the most dangerous child in the universe. "And we have eternity to enjoy that."
