Bella POV
When it was finally over, I thought I'd feel exhausted. Drained.
Far from it.
Anu released me from his shield and settled me back on my feet slowly, careful not to jostle me as the molten fissures covering every inch of my body sealed themselves shut. Tongues of fire skittered all over my skin, but nothing hurt anymore. I fell to my knees, panting, still remembering the impossible heat that threatened to burn me out of existence. Now, the heat was comforting, even pleasant.
Demetri stepped forward and tossed his cloak over my shoulders—the hellish blaze emanating from my chest burned my blouse to cinders.
"Isabella, are you all right?" he asked, his face a mask of concern.
He reached out his hand but didn't touch mine. Still on my knees, head bowed low, I held mine out to his, palm to palm.
"Isabella," he said, astounded. "Your skin. It feels warm." His eyes cut to my face, then back to our intertwined hands. "Warm, like— like— like a human's. The temperature is exactly the same. How can this be?" He looked to Anu and back at me, confused and astonished by this new development.
I shot upright in shock, fastening the cloak around myself. My eyes darted from Anu to Demetri like the little silver globe inside a pinball machine.
Anu cast us a wide, self-satisfied smile as he clasped his hands behind his back. "That is her gift. Her shield allows her to manipulate heat within it to unimaginable degrees, but when at rest, that is the true temperature of her offensive power—98.6 degrees." He paced for a moment, pondering what this meant. Anu stopped in front of Demetri and said softly, "Almost as though she had a human soul. Fully developed, her resting core temperature is that of a healthy human's."
I still stood in place, my eyes glued to Anu's, trying to make sense of what he said. When 'fully developed,' my gift made my skin as warm as a human's? I couldn't process the thought. Surely this would wear off soon once the fissures on my skin healed and the heat subsided.
Demetri turned to face me, and what he saw made him gasp as though he'd seen a ghost.
"What?" I yelled in fright. "What's wrong with me?" I touched my face, trying to find any deformities, but it felt just the same as it always had.
"Isabella. Your skin. It's—" He stuttered again. "It's… rosy, as though blood rushed through your veins."
I could only but gawk at him. "What the hell do you mean, 'rosy'"? My complexion used to be 'rose petals and cream,' as mother described it—pale with a rosy tint to my cheeks. That died along with my human body. For the past century, my skin was pearlescent white like the rest of us.
I bit deep into my wrist, and silvery venom oozed from the wound. No blood. No red. Vampire venom still filled me. The bite healed instantly, and it dismissed the assumption of human blood running through my veins.
Anu opened a small oak chest with intricate symbols carved on the lid and retrieved a mirror that couldn't possibly have been fashioned after the sixth century AD. He held it up to my face, and the sight forced me to my knees.
My cheeks. They were the color of blush roses. Panic arose in my chest, and though vampires didn't need the air, I started hyperventilating.
Demetri kneeled in front of me and held me tight against his chest, rocking me gently. "Shh, shh. You are all right, Isabella. Everything is all right." He comforted me as one would a scared child. "Oh god, the warmth," he whispered, his eyes closing as his lips upturned in pleasure. Turning to Anu, he asked, his arms still around me, "How?"
Anu shrugged. "Who knows how talents work? I can't change them, enhance them, or take them away, unless I reverse your timeline into oblivion. All I can do is give one the years it would take to develop it fully. Within a millennium, this would have happened naturally. All I am able to do is speed up the process."
My breathing slowed under Dem's reassuring presence as I came to grips with the outward changes my gift endowed me with. My thoughts turned to its active capabilities. Shielding. Protecting. Burning.
Anu seemed to know my thoughts before I had realized them myself. He turned a stern gaze at me, appraising me with a knowing eye once more. "Stand up, Isabella."
I did as he bid.
"Focus. Let your power wash over you. Let it out of its cage. What do you feel?" he asked, his focus on me intensifying.
I closed my eyes and extended my arms, letting the fire run free over my entire body. I could feel each cell vibrating as it generated heat, one adding to another, and my whole being felt like a dormant volcano finally waking from a long slumber.
My eyes shot open, and I could feel the heat radiating from them, fastened on Anu's face. My voice dripped molten lava as I told him, "I am made of fire."
Anu snickered. "Close enough. All humans are made of stardust, as I'm sure you very well know. Stars that died millions of years ago sprinkled the planet with their dust, pulled in by Earth's gravity. But you, beautiful Isabella, are made of igneous stars—stars that have not gone supernova yet. Perhaps someday, you might. But no, you are not made of fire. You are wholly made of stars."
"What in the world are you talking about?" I asked. It all sounded poetic and whatnot, but how he could possibly know this? It was true that humans are, indeed, made of stardust. When a star dies, it scatters its dust all over the universe, binding with other elements, becoming something other. Quite a large portion of our body mass is comprised of stardust, but how can I possibly be made of practically anything but?
Anu paced around the room, tapping his chin. He seemed to be thinking aloud rather than speaking to me. "I cannot pretend to understand the exact process of how this happens, but then again, no science can explain our existence, or how we came to be, though much effort has been spent on it. There is a supernatural aspect to our kind that we at present cannot grasp. Perhaps your human body was different than most, though had you stayed human, you would have been none the wiser. As a vampire, whatever is unique and special about us is enhanced and amplified. The dust of dead stars in you came alive again after your change."
I could only gape at him in utter disbelief.
He stopped pacing and turned to Demetri and me. "I have seen it once before, several millennia ago. This particular vampire's power was similar to yours—he could manipulate heat like you do, but not in a controlled environment like you can within your shield." His tone was not unkind, but there was a hint of sorrow in his voice that sent a shiver down my spine. "It is as though you are the next step in the evolutionary line of such power." Anu steepled his fingers under his chin, deep in thought, and the sight reminded me of Carlisle when presented with a puzzle.
I wasn't sure whether I wanted to know, but I needed to ask. "What happened to him?"
He said nothing. His melancholy eyes spoke for him. They turned sadder still as Anu gazed at the floor of his abode. After a few beats of silence, he turned his face to mine with a remorseful expression. "And it makes me fear for you. Sooner or later, all stars go supernova."
I knew what that meant. When a star goes supernova, it dies.
Edward POV
With the Brazilian coven's help, I'd located and brought back to Washington twenty-five other vampires who had been as appalled as the Brazilians by the Volturi's practices.
Carlisle was particularly enthralled by the coven of seven vampires we unearthed in Machu Picchu. He spent countless hours speaking with Chasca, whose name meant "goddess of Dawn and Twilight," as she told us. She led her coven of four males and three females, including herself, and they were all of a peaceful but pragmatic nature. Inca culture centered on a king's rule, and it fascinated Carlisle that this coven, created during the height of the Incan empire, would accept a female as their leader.
"I was the first of us to be changed," she said. "As I chose the ones to join me, they accepted my command implicitly." She spoke English, though she had trouble pronouncing some of the syllables that didn't exist in her ancient native tongue.
The Brazilian coven was dying to hit the waves at First Beach, and they were crestfallen when we warned them against it due to the pack of wolves that inhabited the area. The Jamaican coven chomped at the bit to get down there and befriend the wolves.
"Hamza, we've told you," Alice said for the thousandth time. "They won't be very welcoming to your presence."
He waved her off as though it were an easy obstacle for him to overcome.
I explained the nature of their beef with us and what they had done to my mate. Jacob's attack on Bella and how he had hurt her still pissed me the fuck off, and I often had to stop myself from marching down there and kicking his ass from here to Timbuktu.
When he heard the story of what Jacob did to Bella, Fernando cracked his knuckles and his neck, cranking his head from side to side. "Let's go kick some ass. This is 'bullsheet,'" he said. His accent left something to be desired, but the meaning was clear, and I was right there with him, though we had to keep a clear head.
I put my hand on his shoulder to hold him back from running to La Push and wreaking havoc. "Believe me, bud, I've thought about it every damn day, but right now, we got bigger fish to fry."
Rosalie and Emmett had returned a few days ago with fifteen Asian vampires, most of them nomads. They felt particularly threatened by the Volturi once they'd heard of how they exercised their rule. They were nomads for a reason—they didn't want to serve anyone. They abided by the hunting rules of not exposing our existence, but they balked at the prospect of being brought to heel.
Esme and Carlisle had the best turnout of all of us. They returned with sixty-five European vampires, including a Scottish clan who claimed to have been visited by Bella.
She had been sent on a mission to destroy the leader and scare the rest into compliance, but she didn't follow her orders. Bella warned him and told him what he had to do to keep his coven—and himself—alive, and let them all go.
"A bonnie lass, she is. And kind, too," Carrick said as he ran his fingers through his bushy rust-colored beard. "At first, I didn't want to believe her. She is Volturi, and they're ruthless."
A growl bubbled out of my throat at his words, my fingers bunching into fists.
"No offense to you, lad," Carrick said, quick to fix his mistake. "We know it was not her choice, but we didn't know at the time, did we?"
Carrick knew Bella was my mate, and slandering her was liable to get his ass killed.
"But she didn't want to punish us for our mistake. She just wanted to warn us to be careful, she did." He looked to Carlisle. "Once you found us and told us what was happening, we had no trouble believing you. She herself told us she had been sent to destroy us, but didn't want to. We couldn't ignore your arguments after that." Carrick shook his head as though truly sorry for Bella's fate.
The Scottish coven was a pleasant bunch. Rosalie was particularly enthralled by Lachlan and his bagpipes. She and Emmett would build a bonfire outside and the entire coven would gather around it and dance as Aila had taught them.
All the vampires that returned with us were good-natured and earnest, but there was one from the Scottish coven I didn't trust. Roan. There was something in his eyes, something that screamed "I'm an asshole." I didn't trust that fucker for a second. It was a good thing he'd gone hunting far away from here and hadn't been around for the past four days. Just looking at him pissed me off for some reason.
Aro POV
"Master, you have a visitor," Corbin said as he introduced the stranger into the throne room and bowed before taking his leave.
"Thank you, dear Corbin. You are most kind to show our visitor in." I motioned for our guest to approach.
"What is your name and your business, child?" I asked with a pleasant smile.
He bowed low before me. It pleased me greatly; just the way I liked my subjects—subservient and obsequious.
"My name is Roan, Master Aro, and I come bearing grave news."
The crimson eyes of my guest bore into mine, and in that moment, instinctively, I knew. The news he was about to impart would change everything.
"Come forth, dear one, and take my hand."
Roan stood and walked forward, grasping my hand with surprising force.
It took me but a second to realize the danger, the incredible danger we were all in.
The Cullens were amassing an army.
"You are dismissed, Roan, and leave with my gratitude for the news you have brought me. You are a Volturi's favored subject."
Roan bowed and left with a self-satisfied smirk. He had shown me all I needed to know. Isabella had been disobeying my orders. She had been told to eliminate the leader of Roan's coven due to their indiscriminate hunting, but not only did she refuse, she let them all go. Her insubordination was escalating.
Sulpicia had been right. My shrewd, smart wife. She had known all along Isabella might be a liability, but I thought I could sway the powerful Cullen girl. Alas, I failed, much to my vexation. Isabella had to be eliminated for the good of our kind. But first, we needed to amass an army of our own. A larger one.
"Felix?"
He hurried into the throne room before two seconds passed. "What is your will, master?" he asked, taking a knee and bowing.
"The fortress in Siberia. It's time. Choose only the strongest prospects. You know what to do." Felix had been on notice about this mission for months, ever since Isabella defied me and took Rosalie and Emmett to the Cullens. She had to punished, of course, but there was no need to rush. If the Cullens were amassing an army, then so should we.
Felix nodded once with a grin. I knew he would enjoy the task I set before him. It had always been clear how much he resented Isabella; he had never gotten over her besting him. Felix longed to make her suffer for it.
Now, the time had come.
Edward POV
"Carlisle, you've been a mess for weeks, and your mind is a bog of nonsense most of the time. Do you wanna talk about it?" I asked.
Carlisle had become the father we lost, but more. He was understanding, encouraging, supportive. I had no idea what that was like when my own father was alive. Carlisle and I became closer than anyone else apart from the mated couples. He couldn't hide his thoughts from me, and I understood them better than he imagined. How could I not? I was the other half of the thing he craved so much—he yearned for a son as much as I had yearned for a father to love me.
Carlisle chewed on his lower lip, his eyes fastened to the ground.
His sad smile resonated with me in a deep level. "I just miss my child, and I so fear for what they are doing to her."
I perfectly understood what he meant. There was nothing we could do for Bella right now. We just had to keep faith that our plan would work.
He closed his eyes and rubbed his fingers roughly over his frowned forehead. "I'm afraid, son. I fear for what is to come, for the possibility of losing some of our family and allies, and for what might happen to Isabella. In truth, I have feared for her since the day she left us."
My throat constricted. I shared that fear. "She's tough, Carlisle. She'll be all right." I wished I could believe my own words. Being parted from Bella for all these years was the hardest thing I've ever done. Not even the sight of my mother's battered face, as horrendous as it had been to deal with, compared to the years away from my mate. Every night I said a silent prayer that she'd be okay, though I wasn't sure anyone would listen to us, the damned ones.
Carlisle sat up straighter and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his chin propped on a tight fist. "That's just it, Edward. She's tough, that much is certain. But is she that tough emotionally? I lived with the Volturi for a number of decades before I made my way to America. I know of their practices, and I know everything they most likely made her do." His face contorted as though he wanted to cry, but we have no tears. "Isabella doesn't have the emotional wherewithal to stand this. She's much too pure, much too good to endure all this without irrevocable damage."
His words sank into my stomach like icy bricks. I feared that, too. I was afraid like hell for what this would do to her. If Carrick's story gave me any idea of what they made her do, I shuddered to think the effects this kind of horror would have on my love.
"Excuse me, Carlisle. I need a moment to myself," I sputtered.
His eyes held nothing but pity and compassion. "Of course, son. All the time you need."
Without another word, I turned and jumped out the window. I ran a good hundred miles before I sank to my knees on the damp earth and roared my despair to the heavens, my head tilted towards the full moon.
A/N: People really *are* made of stardust. ;) Look it up!