Chapter 37: Mephisto Waltz
Thank you NelsonSmandela for the beta, and to Adorablecullens and Algie for the preview and helpful critiques. Also big thanks to m81170 (author of the delightful Swirl & Daisy) for requesting a lemon for her FGB scene. She was nice enough to share, and when I wrote the last sentence of it I knew it belonged in this chapter for so many reasons.
EDIT: Big thanks to gkkstitch, who let me bounced this idea off her a long time ago and kept the secret. Happy birthday!
Chapter Music
Mozart's "L'ho perduta, me meschina" from Le Nozze di Figaro
http:/www(DOT)youtube(DOT)com/watch?v=7sYCI49au8Q
Vladimir Horowitz plays Liszt's "Mephisto Waltz," parts 1 & 2
http:/www(DOT)youtube(DOT)com/watch?v=WYs6on6Jxme
http:/www(DOT)youtube(DOT)com/watch?v=0sBINRSxN9I
"String Quartet No. 2" and other clips byJoby Talbot
http:/www(DOT)youtube(DOT)com/watch?v=knt-OKZ51fc
Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight, but I did write a lot of Canzone Outtakes, including the Stag Party scene from last chapter that many of you asked for. Check it out! Also, Buckle up.
~oЖo~
Salzburg, Austria
Hotel rooms are easy. They're temporary worlds. You can make a mess, and when you come back, it's as if the mess was never there. You get fresh soaps and fresh sheets, and it feels like a clean slate, with no obligations. You can pretend, even if only for one night, that everything is as simple as four walls, a bed, and sleep.
We're getting very good at pretending.
Not to mention, the small spaces and lack of piano in these rooms usually lead to far more time alone and naked with Edward.
"You'd make a good lion," I murmur, stroking his hair so it stands up all over the place.
It's not difficult to do. All it takes is for Edward to hold still long enough for me to play with his hair. It also helps if he's lying down.
"They don't seem to think so," he smiles indulgently. "Although, there's usually some grudging respect when I drain one."
"You can read animals' minds too?" I don't know why I'm surprised. "Why didn't you say something before?"
"Mmmm." He skims his fingers over the hem of the sheet covering both of us, stopping between my breasts, and lifts the cloth just high enough to get a peek.
"Checking to make sure they're still there?" I ask, trying not to laugh. "Don't distract me—I want to know more about reading animal minds. Are there thoughts in actual words, or is it mostly like watching a silent movie?"
"It's more complicated than that. Some animals have some human words," he says, drawing the sheet down to my waist. "All domesticated animals understand some words, but it doesn't make up most of their thinking. They use more of their senses."
I sit for a moment, trying to observe my own thoughts. It's a challenge, because when Naked Edward holds me, it's very hard to think about anything but his gentle, silky touches: his chilled fingertips gliding along my skin, giving me erotic little chills in the wake of their tandem paths.
"So when you're reading people's minds, is it a mixture of images, sentences, and sensations?"
"Humans, yes," he says, nuzzling my ear, which is really not helping me focus. "And it varies a lot from person to person. Most people think in odd sentence fragments. Lots of people have little tunes running through their minds."
He hums an example as kisses his way down my neck, the cold tip of his nose eventually settling right in my cleavage.
"And animals?" I remind him, still stroking his hair. "What about wild animals?"
His hands snake around me, and my back arches automatically as I try to stifle a moan. There's a wicked gleam in his eyes as he observes my struggle.
"Depends on which animals," he humors me, tracing patterns on my skin so gently it feels as soft as his whisper. It feels so sweet I start mirroring his touch with my own, starting with the back of his neck. "Some are fascinating and complex, but their minds are too foreign in nature to get anything but sensations. Some, like horses, dogs, and squirrels are exactly what you'd expect, but lots of animals would surprise you. Hmmm, that feels nice."
"Give me the highlights?" I ask curiously, running my fingernails lightly along his back as far down as I can reach. He shivers. "Like, what surprised you?"
"Hmmm, it's difficult to really read their minds, but ants, bees, and spiders are far more intelligent than scientists imagine, though I think they're starting to catch on."
"The ants and bees are catching on?" I stop scratching for a moment.
"No, the scientists," he laughs. "Don't stop. Oh, and humans rely so much on sight and sound that they miss out on a lot of animal communication. You'd probably be surprised at how much most of the animal kingdom communicates with scent, but you'll understand that more after you change."
"What kind of information can you pass through scent?" I ask, my curiosity really piqued now. "Is it like when dogs sniff everything, especially where other dogs have marked? Grandma used to say that her dog liked to read his pee-mail whenever they went for a walk."
"Pee-mail?" he laughs softly. "That's actually pretty accurate. A dog can sniff where another dog has marked recently and leaves a one-of-a-kind signature, and a kind of update on their status—mostly about health and emotional stability through a balance of hormones that leave traces when they mark."
"So like, if my grandma's old dog, Buster, was out, he could find out that a dog he's met before was out for a walk recently and that he's sad or happy?"
"Yes, exactly," he says, smiling deviously before flicking an already-stiff nipple with the tip of his cool tongue. "Humans have pretty much lost their collective sense of smell except for the purposes of mating, eating, and detecting dangerous breathing conditions."
"You always smell so good," I murmur in agreement. "I bet you'll smell even better after the change. I wish I could communicate that way now."
"Actually, humans still give out the information through scent," he says, a sly smile curling his lips. "You, in particular, are quite eloquent. You just don't pick up on the vast majority of it."
"Is that how you pick up on my moods so easily?" I ask, thinking about how he always knows when I'm sad or angry, even when I try to hide it. "Sometimes I think you can read my mind after all, and just won't admit it."
"You give me a lot of information," he murmurs, his breath sending a delightful little shiver down my spine. "For example, even though you've never said as much, I know that you become aroused whenever I make a noise like this..." He emits a low, sexy noise—somewhere between a loud purr and a soft growl. I can feel the vibrations of it throughout my upper body, and, as always, my lower regions respond immediately.
I moan softly, not even trying to stifle it this time.
"I've always wondered if vampires were part cat," I admit, panting. " All of you make so many catlike noises."
His growl gets louder, but there isn't any anger in it. More than merely catlike, it's a precise imitation of the kind of noises I've heard from lions in the zoo or on television. A nervous thrill goes through me, as his body presses heavily into mine, sinking me into the soft hotel mattress.
"Close your eyes," he says, barely sounding human.
"Why?" I whisper anxiously.
"Because," he murmurs, "I want you to experience this without your dominant sense. Think of it as a sneak peek … except of course, without the peeking. Tell me if it's too much."
"Okay." If this were anyone but Edward, I'd be scared out of my mind, but I trust him. It feels like that moment when you get to the top of the roller coaster and you know if there was any way to stop and get off you would, but there isn't, so you just scream. "Okay," I say again, breathing out sharply.
His low growling gets even louder, and his body gets even heavier until I am surrounded only by him and bed, with a little space for breathing. My arms remain free, and I sink my hands in his wild hair as he moves over me.
"Remember your promise," he whispers, sliding his hands under my knees. "Say the word, and I stop."
I keep my eyes closed and feel as his noises vibrate through me, and his various scents overwhelm me. I try to distinguish between the sweetness of his breath and the minty scents of his body, but find it difficult to separate them. As if reading my mind, he shifts up, bringing my legs around his waist, and his cool mouth finds mine. His taste is as addictive as it is numbing; it's always a game to try to capture the flavor before the tingling takes it away.
My arms and legs wind around him, hot vines on a cool, gloriously animate statue, and when he enters me, his low rumble shifts subtly in tone. I've never noticed before, but then he's never been this loud before, never shown me this much of his inhuman side while we're together. But the tone is unmistakable: when I have always imagined him to be holding back because of my fragility, it is his own vulnerability that comes across in this feral sound—all of his wants and fears. He's rougher than usual, but it feels amazing. It's just on the edge of too much, but not quite over it. I finally have a physical understanding of his terrible strength, and what he's been warning me about all along.
This discovery seems ridiculous and unnerving, and I laugh softly as my body convulses in waves of pleasure. My love, this dangerous creature, is mine, and strangely at my mercy. It makes me feel powerful, and beloved. With my eyes closed I see nothing, but feel him withdraw slightly, as if to watch me. I don't let him, and his movement only makes me rise with him as I keep my arms wound around his neck.
"Don't pull away," I whisper, kissing a perfect ear. "I love knowing this about us."
He groans in understanding, giving in again, and we move together in a seamless conversation of skin. Our bodies have learned this language together, one that is unique to our contrasts of too warm and too cold, too hard and too fragile, until we've both become fluent and unafraid in spite of the very real dangers involved.
My skin moves along his, never stopping long enough to burn or freeze at one point, our mouths tasting, exploring, knowing. Pleasure and pressure fuse into one concept, and we both chase it in a delicate frenzy, his feral nature acutely exposed as I've never seen before.
The ferocious sounds coming from him as his movements quicken send me right over some new edge, and I cry out helplessly, sensing his powerful release deep within me as it follows my own. I love watching him in this moment—his eyes inky black with sharp pleasure-and I don't deny myself now.
He catches me watching, and I whisper to him as his movements slow, my inane love-words coaxing the human Edward back to the surface.
"Magnificent beast," I whisper, kissing his full lower lip, his finely angled jaw. "How I love you, beautiful man."
"Brave girl," he murmurs, shivering with one last tremor, one last push, and my own body trembles in a delicious echo. "You're disturbingly impossible to terrify, you know."
"Only when you're near me," I reply as he slips out of me. "My body knows its protector; my soul knows its match."
He winds the sheets around us, nestling in behind me so that my legs curve around his. I feel safety in the weight of his arm around me, comfort in his familiar skin and scent, love in the honey-dark tune of his hum.
I sink into dreams of a lush jungle, in which I am the fiercest of all creatures.
~oЖo~
Somewhere in Croatia
The van zips down a rough stretch of road, the pavement full of potholes and occasionally showing scars of accidents and, I suspect, explosions of some kind. It's late, and most of what I see is darkness, with twin visions of bleak and gray in the sallow glare of our headlights. The van veers and swerves, albeit far more smoothly than it would with a human driving.
I lean my head back and try to keep my eyes closed, not so much to try to sleep anymore, but because Edward drives so fast it's making me a little crazy. I don't know how many wordless hours pass, but it seems like a really long time. Eventually the road and the ride smooth out, but my mind keeps racing, replaying a mistake I made in the last concert.
"I know you're not sleeping," he murmurs, breaking the silence. "Are you angry?"
"Of course I'm angry. At myself," I mumble miserably. "Why did I have to forget a whole verse in the one place where more than half the audience had photographic memories?"
"What?" He turns, looking at me in shock. "You were essentially forced to perform in a room with forty-seven strange vampires in attendance, and you're upset that you forgot a few words?"
Forty-seven? I only counted eighteen.
"I know, I should be used to it by now," I fret, taking a moment to process his words. "Yeah, and what is up with Belgrade, anyway? Is half the city really vampires, or did some of them come in from out of town?"
"I couldn't tell exactly, and Alice didn't see until it was too late. Some of it was coincidence," he shakes his head. "But it looks like many of them came from the same place, on impulse, perhaps."
I'm pretty sure he's got another opinion on the matter, but is trying not to freak me out.
"What happened after?" I prod. "Come on, I have a right to know. I saw Eleazar talking to some of them."
My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I sigh, seeing Alice's number.
"It's okay, Bella," she says sweetly. "First of all, it wasn't that bad. There won't be any press at all, and we're pretty sure that the next and final recital in Venice will only have a few mildly curious vampires around, as usual."
"It's my fault. I should have put my foot down," Edward says, shaking his head. "We shouldn't have gone to Belgrade at all. Wars always attract vampires, and that city has probably had more war than peace in recorded history, maybe even longer."
I'm not the only one beating myself up, apparently. It makes me feel selfish, and sad. I haven't really thought about what the concert must have felt like to Edward, being in a room full of non-Volturi vampires. I was more worried about the human audience than my own safety, but he must have been a nervous wreck.
"Hey, we're okay," I say, touching his arm. "We're fine, and we don't have to go back there."
His grimace softens a bit, but his eyes narrow on the road ahead.
"It's my job to keep you safe," he says. "Aro was just reminding me of who's in control."
"So he did have something to do with it?" I ask, frowning.
"Shake it off," Alice says confidently. "The tour is almost over, and yes, Aro's trying to mess with your mind. He's the one who put Belgrade on the tour, remember? Just get some rest. Hunt, sleep, and give Venice your best."
"I heard that the audience in Venice can be cruel," I mention, fidgeting nervously.
"Who told you that?" Alice and Edward ask at the same time.
"Aro," I admit.
"I'd worry if it were Milan—they're infamous for turning on singers—but Venice should be okay," Edward assures me.
"And just assume that anything Aro says from here on is calculated to mess with your head," Alice warns.
"Yes coach," I say with a little smile. "You're right."
"My two favorite words in the English language."
We pull into the hotel, an American chain hotel just outside of the Venice airport. The next concert isn't until tomorrow night, which is good, because it's going to take at least that long to shake off the tension stirred up by the concert.
When we get to the room, there's a huge bouquet of blue anemones waiting for us. The envelope has both of our names on it and the card has a simple message on it in Aro's own spidery hand:
We have so much to talk about, my dears.
Looking forward to your safe return.
Aro.
"Cryptic, but pretty," I observe. "Well, it looks like playtime is over."
Edward's arms wrap around me, he kisses me briefly and then takes both card and flowers, disappearing into the hall with them, only to return empty-handed, but smiling.
"There, now we've the maids happy. Don't forget what Alice said," Edward murmurs into my hair. "He doesn't know anything worth knowing. He's just playing his little games."
Little games. More like extreme mindfucking.
A concert hall with enough vampires to kill my entire audience in one moment. Veiled threats in the form of lovely flowers. What next?
I'm getting very tired of being played.
~oЖo~
Déjà vu hits me hard two nights later as we walk along the streets of Volterra by silvery moonlight. I finally feel a little like we've made legitimate progress in our efforts. Not that I'm not grateful for Alice's promotional help, but I finally feel like I earned something on my own merits, and it feels good.
Venice had turned out to be kind, not cruel at all. It was a small but enthusiastic audience, so much so that after the recital, an opera director from nearby Padua offered me a tiny role in a Mozart opera later on in the season. I thanked him and tentatively accepted, trying not to get too excited about it just in case it's some weird setup. He promised to send a contract, and I took his card, clutching it in my hand all the way on the drive back.
This little success feels genuine, like our wedding. For the first time since Dr. George fixed me up with Edward, I feel like everything has come a little too easy, and it just doesn't sit right. I know what it's like to audition and not make it, after all. I didn't get in to my first choice of music schools, even if I did get my first choice of voice professors in the end. I know that the performance in Vienna was genuinely good, but it took a lot of hype and publicity from Alice to get the audience to come. Where Vienna felt like winning the lottery, Venice felt an actual accomplishment.
Memories of Venice and the wedding bolster my confidence as we return to our dance with the devil, in a manner of speaking. Last time, he caught us unawares. This time, Alice has better information, because he's been planning our homecoming for a while. Unbeknownst to Aro, we've decided to take the entrance by the ruins, just as we did a year ago to the day. This year, we are the slippery ones, the unseen who come out of the shadows when least expected.
"What if Jane's waiting at this entrance, or Santiago?" I whisper.
"Then they are," Edward replies calmly. "We're not disobeying an order, just doing the unexpected."
"We never really talked about it," I say shyly, "but I really want to keep our rings on."
"I should hope so. I for one am never taking this ring off," he grins, taking my hand as I stumble on the dark path. "Don't worry, I'll take care of it if he brings it up."
Hands clasped, moonlight glinting off of our simple gold wedding bands, we slip over the wall and through ancient ruins instead of through the library corridor where we'd have to run a gauntlet of talented vampires on our way to keep our appointment.
It makes me more than a little happy to see Aro's face sour a bit when he sees us coming through the "wrong" entrance, but nothing could prepare me for the odd, subtle changes of his own. I try to control my own facial expression as I see how he's arranged himself, but it's not easy.
He looks kind of like ... a pimp?
It's not so much in his clothes—any more than usual, that is— but the way he's flanked by three beautiful female vampires around his throne, each touching him in some odd manner. The comparison is simply unavoidable; he's got a brunette, a redhead, and I guess Chelsea's hair is sort of dark blonde. The only thing that he needs is a fedora with an ostrich feather to complete the look. Renata stands behind him, one hand planted firmly on his shoulder as she stares at me in challenge. I'm not impressed.
Lovely Chelsea, looking every bit the supermodel in a mini-dress, thigh-high boots, and way too much makeup, perches on an arm of his throne, one of her long legs dangling over his in a blatantly intimate pose. She smiles invitingly at Edward, totally ignoring me. I may still be human, and she may be as beautiful as ever, but this time it doesn't bother me. All she has to show for a year of trying is a year's worth of humiliation for her and one gorgeous, utterly devoted husband for me. With that thought, I look around, but her own husband, Afton, is nowhere to be found.
On Aro's other side stands a small and very young-looking female, older in human years than Jane probably, but not by much. Her lovely red hair falls in long curls down her back, and she stands close enough to the throne for Aro to clasp her hand in his. Their posture seems to be utilitarian rather than affectionate, and it's clear that he wants to read her mind while he speaks to us. This must be Maggie, the lie-detecting vampire. Even though I know she's not a humanitarian, there's something about her I like right away. Her face is intelligent, honest, and open. She's more like us than they are; she does not fit in with this cold, hard group.
Something about Aro's posture, the whole setup of lining the halls with scary vampires, even his smug expression—the whole thing seems to reek of insecurity to me. It seems like overkill for dealing with one vampire and one human, talented or not. It reminds me of something Jasper said during one of our strategy sessions.
"If I were Aro, I'd be worried, too. The two of you are playing a game he rigged, and to all appearances, you're winning. Maybe y'all need to be a little less perfect from time to time? Not enough to do any real damage, but just enough to relax him."
I see nothing but wisdom in Jasper's suggestion, but Alice and Edward are perfectionists to the core, and balk at the suggestion. Maybe we should have come in the way Aro wanted, and at least made an effort to seem intimidated. Edward had refused, saying we could pick another time to be less than impressive. It'll probably be up to me to screw up, but fortunately, that's unavoidable.
Marcus, ever dreamy, perks up a little when he sees us, and I return his ghost of a smile with a shy one of my own. I don't think anyone really notices, as all eyes are on either Aro or Edward. Aro himself stares at my husband with the same challenge that Renata's giving me, but with far more menace than she seems capable of producing.
"Edward and Isabella, how delightful," he says, snaking one arm around Chelsea's waist. "How did the tour go?"
"Mostly very well," I say, my voice shaking a bit as I remember all the little mistakes I made on tour, not to mention all the vampires.
He smiles, looking pleased. "Mostly?"
"Bella is just being modest, as usual." Edward replies smoothly. "The tour went very well, as you know. After our last concert she was even offered her first opera role."
"She was offered pocket change to sing an aria and look pretty," Aro smiles knowingly. "Hardly seems worth the drive to Padua. I don't know if I'm going to allow it. I think it will clash with her course schedule this year."
"Barbarina is a small role," Edward replies stiffly. "But it's still a role. And it's in one of the most well-known operas of all time."
"It's hardly anything to brag about."
I squeeze Edward's hand to try to let him know I'm okay. Both his hand and his face are completely unyielding, but I feel him relax minutely. I follow his gaze and notice Maggie's troubled expression.
"So I will be taking classes again this year?" I ask, genuinely relieved at the news.
"Don't you think you need to?" Aro asks, his gaze predatory.
"Of course," I nod. "I'm looking forward to it."
He has no idea how much I need something to do if we're staying here indefinitely. If he did, he'd probably insist on the opposite, and let me go crazy with almost nothing to do. Maggie smiles at me.
"Where are my manners?" Aro says sweetly. "Meet Maggie, the newest member of our guard."
"I'm pleased to meet you, Maggie," Edward says, his voice smooth, gentle.
Maggie smiles, obviously charmed, and Aro flinches. His gaze falls to our locked hands, and he stares for a moment.
"I see you've acquired some new jewelry," he says blandly. "I'm hurt. Or did my invitation get lost in the mail?"
"There weren't any invitations to lose, I'm afraid," Edward informs him. "It was a very small ceremony. Besides, you've said that human customs and ceremonies are beneath vampires."
"True," Aro responds, and though he looks like he wants to say something else, he seems to think better of it. "I suppose Carlisle was happy about it."
"He was."
"I'm not so thrilled that you encourage his pretense of humanity," Aro says dryly. "Never mind that. After your grand tour you must be a bit tired, Isabella. However, I would like to hear something from you, Edward, if you don't mind?"
As it was with our first meeting, nearly a year ago, a grand piano has been set up in the middle of the great hall. Maybe it's the fatigue of the tour talking, but as polite as his words are, I detect a little dance-monkey-dance, sing-monkey-sing in Aro's tone. I'm glad for once, not to be asked to sing something. Fortunately Edward doesn't share my attitude, and approaches the highly polished instrument with even more than his usual sensual confidence.
"Would you prefer Liszt or Chopin?" Edward asks, settling down at the keyboard. "Your choice."
"Liszt, if you don't mind," Aro answers, leaning forward. "He understood so much for a mere human. I would love to hear you interpret his work, Edward. To see if you understand half so well as he did."
He begins to play something I've only heard him working on once, and that's because it made me so nervous to hear it I asked him to stop. It's a ragged, disjointed, disturbingly fast piece that sounds both cheerful and demonic by turns. After a few minutes, there's a hauntingly beautiful minor-key segment that sounds like a slightly melancholic boredom. It shifts mood and speed again, always beautiful, always dark.
I look over to the dais and see Aro leaning in, total attention on the music. His face betrays an intense, almost personal, interest in the music, and I begin to feel a little queasy. The piece bothers me exactly as it did before, but now I realize why. It's Aro. The whole piece is precisely him. It must have been written for him, about him, in all his complexity.
In all of Eleazar's recommended titles, nowhere does it ever say that it's remotely safe to be honest with a ruler, not like this. He doesn't seem offended though, as he stares in fascination at the way Edward plays, his beautiful face straining with concentration, hands and fingers blurring with the speed of his final, insane crashing notes. I don't know what this is as a message, but I find myself hoping beyond reason that Aro likes it.
I get my answer when Aro stands, leading the applause. Whatever message Edward was trying to send seems to have worked well, and I sensed a general decrease in tension as we left the hall without having to run some sort of gauntlet.
"What was that?" I whisper, once we're safely out of earshot.
"That," he says, just as quietly, "was necessary. He wanted to know that I'm taking him seriously."
"How much more seriously can we possibly take him?" I ask, stunned. "He's afraid of something. Something to do with us. Or you."
"Both of us," he admits.
"That's a scary thought," I say, sitting down on the couch. "I mean, it was bad enough when he just wanted us. Now I feel like he's training us with a whip and a chair. What's next, a cage?"
"It is a concern," he says, sitting next to me and taking my hand. "But try not to worry about it, okay?"
"On the other hand, Maggie seems okay," I whisper. "I think I see what you mean about her presence working in our favor. I've never seen Aro edit himself before."
Edward laughs bitterly. "Aro always edits, and frustratingly well, at that. He's so sure we've been lying to him that he's willing to bring in someone like her, but he's only limiting himself."
"I don't get it," I say softly. "Why doesn't he just try to touch you and read your mind?"
"Two reasons," he explains. "First, there's the illusion of civility to maintain. He insists that everyone has a choice, and for the most part, that's true, unless you have something they want. The Volturi have been successful and unchallenged because they manage to seem fair while keeping everyone terrified of them at the same time. It's impressively effective."
"And second?" I ask, mulling this information over.
"I'm faster than he is, and he knows it," Edward says grimly. "And so far, it hasn't been quite worth it to him to use his guards to force me to do something he'd rather I volunteer to do. As long as I let him think he has a chance of persuading us to stay, he probably won't try to force me."
So far.
~oЖo~
Aro insists on starting lessons before classes officially begin, and he wastes no time getting into my press reviews. They lie across his piano in the form of newspaper clippings, and at first glance it seems the best ones are missing. There's also absolutely nothing from the Internet, not that I've ever noticed anyone down here online.
"Generally pretty good," he concedes, "but I'd say your ticket sales were uneven at best."
Edward and I exchange a look, and neither of us say anything in response to this obvious bait. The tour was freakishly successful for what it was, and we all know it. Getting defensive about it will only put me in a weak position.
"Shall we hear your little aria then?" he asks. "Your big opera debut is coming up, after all ... if I decide to let it happen."
I try not to feel threatened by this, and do a fairly decent job with the one aria that makes up most of the role of Barbarina, "L'ho perduta, me meschina" from Le Nozze di Figaro. It's a simple, but lovely song, and I take refuge in the sweetly mournful tune. When I stop, Aro's looking at me like a puzzle he wants to crack.
"Interesting, Isabella, very interesting," Aro says, a small smile playing at his lips. "I suppose you think all of this success is about your hard work and talent."
His eyes fairly sparkle, all Hannibal-Lectery, and I know I should be afraid, but I'm not.
Edward, however, isn't nearly as calm.
"Aro, don't," he whispers. "Please."
I barely hear the rest, because I see Aro looking at Edward in triumph, and something clicks. It's not me he wants to crack. It's my overprotective vampire. The realization makes me sick when I think that it might not be the first time.
Fortunately, they're looking at each other in secret conversation, and don't see that I'm just seething with anger, having figured out what I've apparently been missing. I have no idea how long he's been doing this, but it doesn't seem like a new thing. It's probably why he was in Egypt to begin with, and there's nothing I can do to stop it, at least while I'm still human.
Aro's just standing there, preying on Edward through my weakness, wrapping him up in obligation as long as I'm caught in his web. Whatever he's saying silently to Edward isn't good, judging from Edward's pained expression. Whatever he's asking of him, Edward really doesn't want to do it.
And it really pisses me off.
"No, it's okay Edward," I interrupt, surprising them both. "Aro's right."
"I'm sorry," Aro asks, slowly turning his head toward me. The look he gives me is truly chilling. "What did you say?"
Edward shakes his head at me as soon as he's out of Aro's sight, but I ignore him.
"I said you're right," I repeat softly. I know they can both hear me.
Aro's eyes narrow at me, as if trying to figure out whether I'm that dumb or that brave. I'm not that sure myself, but he seems more interested in figuring that out than coercing Edward into whatever nefarious thing he has in mind.
"You've chosen an interesting time to tell me that you have no faith in your abilities, Isabella," he says, staring at me flatly.
"It's not that..." I trail off, finally realizing that his statement was no invitation to continue.
Edward looks angry, Aro looks annoyed, and I'm starting to get nervous when there's an inhumanly loud knock on the door.
"This had better be good," Aro seethes under his breath. "Come in."
The door opens and Felix's massive frame more than fills the doorway.
"It's Heidi," he says furiously, as something—a sheep? really?—runs past through the hallway, bleating in terror. "She actually did it."
Aro goes to him quickly, pauses while taking the giant's hand, and turns to Edward, nostrils flared and teeth bared slightly.
"Do not interfere," he hisses at him, and leaves in a blur of color.
I hear a whooshing sound and am a bit startled to see that Edward has gathered our music and is in the exact spot that Aro just vacated, looking just as alarmed.
"Edward, why are there sheep in the hall?"
"We have to go," he says with quiet intensity.
He shields me in the corridor as several vampires blur past us, barely recognizable at inhuman speed. I swear, I can hear several sheep bleating, their odd voices echoing ghostly off the polished marble walls, mixing with the metallic sounds of vampires' loud arguing.
The only one who seems uninterested in the uproar is Marcus, who sits reading his letters as usual as we pass him in the library. Edward says something to him, his words too fast for my comprehension, but I can see his lips moving. I think Marcus says something in return, but I don't catch any of it, but whatever it is doesn't really seem to bother him.
Edward shakes his head in resignation and gathers me in one arm. We move almost as inhumanly fast as the others, essentially flying up the stairs and slowing down only as we come into the view of humans. I feel nauseated from all the variations in speed, and by the time we get to our apartment, Edward's got the laptop out and running.
"What's happening?" I ask. "Is Heidi okay? What did he mean by telling you not to interfere?"
"She's fine, for now, though she'll certainly be punished for this little stunt. He didn't want me to interfere with her punishment." He gives me a sharp look as Alice appears in a chat window, looking just as intense as everyone else.
"What will they do to her? And what was she trying to do?"
"She brought actual sheep instead of humans for their feeding," Alice answers for him. "She's been thinking about doing it to make a statement, but didn't have any set plans. Today Felix said something about Demetri, and she got angry. I barely had any notice myself, Edward. It only took her fifteen minutes to steal a whole herd, and another ten to get them into Volterra."
"You saw this happening?" I ask.
"Not this exactly," Alice admits. "I just saw Heidi rebelling against her role in the Volturi. I'd get flashes: sometimes I'd see sheep in the hall, sometimes I just saw her arguing with Aro."
"Alice, you said Afton might ask Chelsea to leave tonight. Is it still true?" Edward asks, as Jasper joins her in the small square window. "I don't like this timing. Aro's going to be angry enough as it is."
"Afton has made up his mind," Alice nods, looking more worried than I've ever seen her before. "Everything's prepared, Edward. Be ready for anything, and be careful."
~oЖo~
By the next morning, Alice's warning has turned Edward into a complete and total basket case.
"What can I do?" I ask.
"I want you to leave," Edward says immediately. "I can't control what's going to happen, and it's driving me crazy. If we find you a car or a bicycle or something maybe we can arrange a pickup, and you'll be safe."
"Not that," I say, watching him pace around our living room like a barely caged lion. "Alice said that if I leave and nobody can find me, you're going to be in huge trouble. I'm not going anywhere without you, and that's final."
Fortunately, Alice and the rest agree with me, or else my threat would be completely hollow. Edward's pacing is driving me a little nuts, too, and his constant calls to Alice don't seem to be calming him down.
"Maybe Marcus could help," I suggest, and Edward looks at me guiltily.
"That's our last resort, Bella," he says. "The kind of help Marcus can give, I don't know that you want."
"I want us to stay together," I insist. "I want you to survive. I'd prefer that we not live here forever, but that's the real last resort, isn't it? Outside of that I don't care what happens."
"Bella, I don't think you understand. I—"
I hear what sounds like a flock of birds flying through the stairwell, and Edward moves in a flash, suddenly standing directly in front of me.
The front door opens to reveal Jane, with Alec at her side. They look so childlike, it takes a second to register why their smiles are so chilling.
"Aro wants to see you," she says calmly to Edward, not looking at me. "Bring the girl," she adds dismissively.
We follow her, not to any passage we've ever used before, but to a grate in our own basement. I look at Edward, who seems unnerved by this discovery, and within what seems like mere moments we're taken to a luxurious chamber I've never seen before, where Aro and Caius stand huddled in a deep and swift conversation.
"I'm keeping Bella with me," Edward states without preamble. "I'll do whatever you want, but she stays with me."
Aro eyes us speculatively, and something in Edward's expression must convince him that it's not worth the argument.
"Of course, Edward," he replies calmly. "I wasn't going to suggest otherwise."
Maggie, sitting in a corner, scowls at this, and even I can tell that what he says is a lie. She seems strangely discontent, compared to the first time I saw her.
"As you doubtless already know, Chelsea and Afton have gone missing," Aro continues. "Which might not have happened had we not been so rudely interrupted last night by Heidi's little demonstration."
"As soon as Demetri calls in, we'll be able to find them," Caius says. "What we need from you is to find out when they were last seen, and by whom. Did they tell anyone they were leaving, and why."
His fist smashes against the marble podium in front of them, sending papers, tiny chips of marble and dust everywhere.
"Did you put them up to this?" Aro asks Edward with dark suspicion.
"How could I?" Edward practically sputters. "I've only seen Chelsea in your presence and I haven't seen Afton at all since we returned."
It seems to pass the Maggie test, because she merely lifts a single eyebrow when Aro glares at her questioningly. He narrows his eyes at her in response, clearly unsatisfied.
"He hasn't seen them, it's true," she clarifies, an edge to her voice.
"Be rational, Aro," Caius says in such a low voice I barely hear him. "He's a mind-reader, nothing more. This situation is unstable enough as it is without making wild guesses. Marcus said that Chelsea's loyalty to you was unwavering the last time he saw you together. This can probably be resolved fairly quickly once we find them."
"I need her. We need Chelsea."
"And we'll find her once Demetri calls in, but now is the time for logic and reason, Aro. Restrain yourself."
Aro is not calm, restrained, rational, or reasonable. Aro is a dark storm cloud, swirling in anger.
I feel wrong for witnessing this. It's far too personal, and Aro is too powerful and too vulnerable right now. If Eleazar's books on dealing with rulers have taught me anything, it's to avoid situations exactly like this.
"Just find out what you can," Aro replies, turning to Edward. "And I want a full, detailed report when you return. Otherwise I'll assume that Isabella's presence is slowing you down, and I'll have to hold her for safekeeping. Start with Marcus."
"I can see that it's important to you," Edward says, edging me toward the exit. "I'll do whatever I can to find them."
"He's telling the truth," Maggie says, looking from Aro to Edward.
"I'll be watching, and listening, Edward," Aro warns. "I have spies everywhere."
Maggie holds her tongue, but there are storm clouds in her eyes, too.
~oЖo~
We spend several hours walking around the palace and the streets of Volterra, so that Edward can listen to any thoughts I assume he has no intention of reporting. As suggested, we begin with Marcus, who sits in the library as usual, but instead of his usual thousand-yard stare, we're greeted with the sight of him studying a chessboard as if he's never seen one before. It looks like a game in progress of some sort, whether he's playing against himself or was interrupted.
"I know why you're here," he says, without looking at us. "And you're wasting your time. Aro wants information I either don't have or I've told him already."
Edward surprises me by approaching Marcus quickly, moving so close to his side it seems like they're about to hug. The move seems to surprise Marcus as well, because he glances up sharply at him.
Sharply.
Marcus never does anything sharply, but that's what's happening. It's like the difference between seeing someone in a dream, when they're sort of fuzzy around the edges and changeable, compared to the sharp definition of waking life. Only it's Marcus who seems to have woken up.
"How unstable is he?" Edward asks, his voice barely audible to my ears. "Is Bella safe?"
Marcus looks at me, then back at Edward. He says nothing out loud but looks very troubled. Their speech quickens until I hear nothing, but the intensity of their conversation tells me everything. Edward looks like he wants to hit something. I hope it's not Marcus, because he's pretty much our strongest ally.
"You don't know what you ask of me," Marcus whispers harshly. "There will be consequences you cannot imagine."
"Can I trust that Bella is safe?" Edward repeats, pleading slowly enough for me to understand. "You must know something, please help me. If I don't come back with information about Chelsea and Afton, what you're thinking about will happen. Think, Marcus. What would you do if you were me?"
Marcus shakes his head for a moment, but it doesn't look like refusal. It looks like confusion, or denial.
"One thing Aro knows but may be neglecting to admit to himself," Marcus says slowly. "Is that Demetri's loyalties to Aro are divided when it comes to Chelsea. He owes her many favors."
"Given Chelsea's talent to manipulate relationships and Demetri's fondness for married women, I don't doubt this to be true," Edward replies, once again resigned. "I will try to remind him of what this could mean. Thank you, Marcus."
~oЖo~
By the time we have to return, we don't have much more information than when we started, and Alice's assurances that she sees neither Chelsea's return to Volterra, nor any executions. Even so, the general atmosphere is tense. Without Chelsea, the Volturi could fall apart, starting with Marcus and Aro. I know it's what we've been working for, but now that it's happening, it's more chaotic than any of us imagined.
Charlie always said to watch out for paranoid people, because they're the ones who are most likely to snap and start shooting people for no good reason. When I mention this to Alice, she only confirms it.
"Be careful, please" she warns. "Aro's changing his mind so quickly that anything could set him off. Tell him anything you want about Chelsea and Afton, as long as it's the truth. Apparently Demetri has something of a blind spot when it comes to deeper ocean floors."
"You think that's where they went?" Edward asks incredulously.
"That's what Demetri's decided to say," Alice replies. "I saw Chelsea call him after they left. Demetri's going to claim that he's been out of cell phone signal while they get to wherever they're going."
"Won't Maggie be able to see it's a lie?" I ask.
"Her powers are like Edward's," she explains. "Demetri would have to be present in order for her to say for sure. Anyway, now that Chelsea's gone, Maggie's starting to feel a little homesick for her coven. It took a lot of work to break them up, and she's wavering on her decision to stay."
When we get to the great hall, many of the Volturi have congregated, and seem to be speaking in whispers that sound like the gentlest wind in a field of flowers. Gossip seems to be the only air in the room, and it swirls around us, reeking of rancid-sweet venom. I can't understand a word they're saying, but I'm pretty sure it's not good from the way Edward gathers me closer.
I'm somewhat relieved to see a depressed-looking but whole Heidi, flanked by Sulpicia and the rest of the humanitarians. They seem equally relieved to see us, and it makes me think that the timing of this disappearance benefits us all. From the way they look at us, and how Edward nods at them warmly in greeting, I think they're here for us, and my heart swells with gratitude.
Aro sits restlessly on his throne, his pimp image from before severely diminished by the lack of Chelsea. I don't know if that's because Chelsea looks so much like a hooker, or maybe because it's hard for a man to look that way when his sainted wife is in the room, but Renata and Maggie just look nervous. Marcus sits next to him, people-watching with more attention than I've ever seen him pay before. He too looks restless, but far less agitated than Aro. He looks worried, and almost angry.
Caius doesn't seem to be around, but Aro looks more like a Shakespearean tragedy waiting to happen, grasping his oracle and sitting next to the brother I strongly suspect he once betrayed in the worst way possible.
"Well?" Aro asks tersely. "Don't make me wait."
"There were a few witness accounts from human minds of the two vampires leaving the city on Via Porta Diana, heading North East."
"You think I don't know that already?" he snaps waspishly. "Give me something of value. Now."
Edward pinches the bridge of his nose, and growls when Felix approaches us.
"Chelsea and Demetri—"
"Try again," Aro states flatly. "Now, Edward."
"I don't know this for sure," Edward says angrily, "But I believe that Afton was hiding something from you, some personal offense. I don't know what it was, but he has been avoiding you since before we left."
"Careful there," hisses Caius, on the way to his own throne. "False accusations are a punishable offense."
"I'm not accusing Afton of anything, because I don't know what he was supposed to have done," Edward insists. "I do know that Afton was afraid that Aro would want to read his mind."
"Prove it," Caius says.
"He tells the truth," Maggie insists, and I'm starting to see what Edward meant by her talent working in our favor.
"Afton and Chelsea are missing," Edward replies with terse politeness. "Witnesses saw them leave of their own accord, via a northeast passage. If you want information from my talent, I'm more than happy to tell you what I read. I'm not accusing Afton of anything besides being afraid of Aro."
"What else?" Aro demands. "Where did they go? Did she choose him over us?"
"I don't know where they went," Edward says. "But I'd bet money that when you finally hear from Demetri, he'll say they're off the grid."
"What do you mean, off the grid?" Aro demands as a deathly silence falls over the Volturi.
I hold Edward's hand so tightly that my knuckles turn white.
"Breathe, Bella," Edward whispers.
"Yes, Bella, breathe," Aro taunts. "Answer me, boy, and stop looking after your pet. Demetri can find anyone, anywhere. Everyone knows that."
"Yes, that is what everyone knows, isn't it, Aro?" Edward's head snaps up, his temper barely in check. "You really want me to say it, in front of everyone?"
"Just something else you can hold over my head, isn't it?" Aro laughs bitterly. "You don't know anything."
Maggie flinches, and Aro drops her hand as if it's on fire. She backs away, rubbing her hand, and I can see cracks in it slowly start to heal. A deadly quiet fills the hall as Aro focuses on Edward with a murderous rage.
"I know it's you, Edward Cullen," Aro says, pointing. "Demetri. Afton. Chelsea, who's next? I don't know how you did it, but I know you did it. You got Demetri to break the treaty. How you got that coward Afton to convince Chelsea to run away with him I don't know, but you know what she means to the Volturi, don't you? You're trying to destroy the Volturi. You're trying to destroy me."
Sulpicia steps out of a group of women, huddled together like crows on a wire. Her pale skin gleams against her straight, dark hair, and the contrast reminds me of the nuns who used to light candles and say the rosary with my grandmother. She holds her hand out, as if trying to calm a rabid dog. It seems appropriate.
"Aro, please," she says soothingly. "May I have a word in private?"
"A word, dear wife? You'd like a word?" he replies mockingly. "You think I don't know you? You're on his side. I've read it in your thoughts: you admire him."
"Sulpicia is your loyal wife, and she's right," Caius agrees, studying Aro's face intensely for the first time. "Let us go into chambers and discuss the matter, just the three of us, and Sulpicia."
"The worst part about this is that I knew it all along," Aro laughs, ignoring him. "I could see it all along, the young upstart, the new man, come to take what I have. You think you're the first, Edward? Did you really think you could out-smart me? You're an infant with a little talent. You think you can lead the Volturi? You can't even keep your wife safe."
Marcus recoils as though he's been punched in the face, but Aro doesn't even notice.
"Do not be alarmed," Sulpicia whispers to us. "We know what to do."
"Shut UP, woman!" Aro roars. "Has your diet made you so malnourished that you've lost your ability to whisper properly? I am not having an episode, you fools, we are under attack, and I'm the only one who can see it!"
"Aro, please—" Marcus begins, but his calm words are quickly drowned out.
"He's got you all on his side, doesn't he? He did this," he turns to glare at Edward again. "You did, I see it. You did exactly what I would have done in your position. It's quite clever; you went for the right ones. You took Afton away from Caius, and Chelsea and Demetri from me. You took Carlisle away from me, too. You're the reason he left, and you're attacking us now, because you think you're better than me. I see it all, Edward. You may have fooled everyone else, but you haven't fooled me."
I really want to point out that it's more like self-defense, but Aro can't seem to help himself, and the simple beauty of Alice's plan becomes clear right before our eyes. Looking around, it seems like half of the vampires have left, and nobody remaining looks at Edward like he's guilty. They all look embarrassed, because they think Aro's losing his mind.
"That doesn't make sense, Aro," Caius reminds him. "Carlisle left before Edward's human life even began. Come, let us retire. You are distraught, it's understandable. You need to feed. This is Heidi's fault. Heidi, bring Aro something substantial immediately."
Heidi seems anxious, but Sulpicia nods at her. She leaves, and I try to keep the nausea at bay. It feels like everything is closing in on us, in cold, hard marble, and we'll inevitably be crushed. The last thing Edward needs is me falling apart right now, so I shift on my feet, taking deep calming breaths.
"Yes, that's it," Aro says, his eyes on me as he seems to calm down. "I just need to drink something substantial. Some real human blood will settle my nerves."
Edward growls, putting me behind his back.
"We honor our contracts, Aro," Caius warns. "Heidi will be back with your human shortly. Do not do something you'll regret in front of so many witnesses."
"Yes, we do have a contract, don't we?"Aro says, still glaring at Edward. "One that leaves me with something you need. No matter how many people you win over, Bella's mortality is mine."
"I don't want what you have, Aro. I only want Bella, and the freedom to choose."
"You're free to choose now. Pledge loyalty to me, and all your problems disappear. The contract is quite clear, Edward," Aro hisses, the air around him fairly crackling with his unpredictable energy. "If you were to become one of my guard, you would be free to change Isabella whenever you like. But as you are a Cullen, and not one of the Volturi, you will have to wait for me to decide. Choose me, and Isabella will be with you for all eternity. If not..."
The threat is clear, and hangs like a dagger over my head. Everyone's watching Aro, except for Marcus, whose head lifts as though he just heard someone calling his name. He seems torn.
"Do you know what I think, boy?" Aro continues, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "I think I can keep this up far longer than you can. And I've got all the time in the world. Unlike Isabella. She's so fragile. Anything could happen to her. At any time."
He starts laughing, and Marcus finally seems to make up his mind.
"You go too far, Brother," Marcus interrupts, reaching out to him. "You will only hurt the Volturi if you continue like this. Edward and Bella belong with us; they will see this in time."
"Don't tell me how far is too far," Aro snaps, not taking the offered hand. "I am the Volturi. You can't suddenly decide to care, Marcus."
Marcus looks bewildered, but only for a moment.
"Your fears about Edward are unfounded. He doesn't want to rule, Aro. He doesn't want any of this. You have only to touch me to see the truth in that. Touch Maggie, if you don't believe me."
This turns out to be the wrong thing to say, because Maggie is nowhere to be found, and it sends Aro right over the edge of a dark abyss. His face transforms, his features twisting into pure outrage, and the real storm begins.
He rushes at Edward, who pushes me toward the humanitarians, while somehow staying out of Aro's path. Everything looks blurred for a moment, but I find myself sheltered behind Sulpicia while Caius and Felix hold Aro back.
Jane, ever helpful, smiles at Edward, and I feel it in my gut as he crumples to the floor, his beautiful face distorted with pain.
"Stop it!" I yell at her, but she only smirks, keeping her vicious gaze on Edward. "Somebody make her stop, she's torturing him!"
"I told you I could still hurt you, human," she says, reminding me of her pledge of last year. Her voice sounds robotic, and yet somehow pleased.
I struggle against Sulpicia's arms as she strokes my hair.
"She'll stop eventually," she whispers sadly in my ear. "Edward is strong."
"That's my good little Jane," Aro laughs. "I knew you would be loyal to me."
"I can fix this," Marcus says over my shoulder in a low whisper, and I startle, not having seen him move toward me. I don't know how I hear him over Edward's screaming, but I do. "Will you let me help you?"
"Please," I whisper, just as low. "Please Marcus, help him."
I'm unable to look away from Edward, his beautiful features contorted in agony. The room is in utter chaos, with Sulpicia and Caius both speaking very quickly in some ancient language to Aro, and Jane smiling at Edward in such a way that I swear, if I ever get the chance, I will absolutely fucking end her.
I wish I could shield Edward as I do myself, and I try, blindly willing my shield to do something, anything to protect him instead of me.
"Please!" I whisper again, and I almost think it's working, because Edward manages to look at me, his cries dying down.
Jane growls, glaring at him, but he clenches his teeth together and somehow deliberately nods at me in one sharp jerk of his head before the screaming starts again. I have no idea what he wants me to do, but it seems like he's giving me some kind of signal.
"Forgive me, Isabella," Marcus whispers, and the world falls apart.
I get a little dizzy, and a weird sensation comes over me, like the time I was four and I ran into Renee while she was carrying a whistling teapot. Or the time I was seven, and I fell down a flight of stairs at school, breaking my right leg in two places and my left arm. Or any of the many times I hit my head or broke a toe. There's always that one out-of-time moment when you know something horrible is happening, but you don't feel it quite yet.
And then I do. I've had concussions, contusions, broken bones, bee stings, and a big burn on my chest that took a full week to scab over, and if I had experienced all those injuries simultaneously they wouldn't come close to the white-hot agony radiating from my neck, rushing through my veins like a flash flood of molten lava.
And now there are two people screaming.
One of them is me.
I can't stop screaming, but I can still see and hear as the fire spreads. I look down at the source of the fire and see Marcus at my neck, his teeth embedded in my skin as a thin line of crimson streaks beneath my blouse.
One by one the vampires become aware of what's just happened in this previously ignored part of the room. Jane stares at me in fascination, and Edward's screaming stops altogether as soon as her eyes leave him. At least one small part of my mind experiences relief, knowing that Jane's hold over him has been broken.
Aro's face twists once more into a mask of outrage, and everything begins to fade, like it's happening far, far away from me.
Yelling far away, or right behind me. Somewhere outside of the pain. Marcus yelling. He doesn't yell.
"I did this for your own good, Aro," he calls out in a clear, strong voice. "You will thank me later. Without Chelsea here you know you don't think as clearly about these things."
"Marcus has a point," Caius says, his voice not as loud but cutting through like a diamond-tipped arrow. "We need to stabilize Volterra. If Edward and Bella are gone for a while we can bring back Demetri, find Chelsea and regroup. The contract has not been broken. The contract is still in effect."
Fuck Caius and fuck his contracts. Doesn't he know that I'm on fire? I try to get away from it, but it's inside me. I try to claw at my skin, but nothing helps. This is so much worse than anything I ever imagined.
"Just take her, Edward," Marcus says, and somehow I am moving.
Cloth around my mouth and his touch surrounds me, the only thing that makes sense here.
Everything turns upside-down and I focus on Edward's touch. His touch, it soothes. Everything else is pure hell. I try to hide in the points of contact, his skin on mine, but it doesn't remotely take away the pain. It just gives me one tiny sliver of control so I can stop screaming and protect him from the sounds of my anguish. I can't stop my body from twisting in the flames, and he has to shift me more than once.
"I'm so sorry, love," he says, over and over again. I don't dare open my mouth, for fear of screaming, until I must take a breath.
I gulp and gasp for air, but my lungs are on fire, too, and we're outside. All of Volterra, or at least her rooftops and sky. Stars and planets whirl in my vision as time collapses as a concept. I have no idea how long it's like this, this chaos of a blurring, blazing world, until a familiar voice breaks the pattern.
Another voice, calling Edward.
"Carlisle!"
There's painted metal, and propellers. The blades of a helicopter.
"I'm going to try morphine, put her down."
Screaming again, and then it's gone almost as soon as it started.
"She needs me, too."
Tiny threads of numbness enter various points in my body, a cool breeze whispering over lava streams.
"Do it, Edward. It will make it go faster. Alice woke a full day before Jasper."
"I can't hurt her, Carlisle."
The numbness spreads, and somehow I manage to turn my head and look at him.
"Please, Edward," I rasp through the cloth. "Please."
"I'm sorry, Bella," he rasps, bending down to kiss me.
I see just the flash of his teeth, and a syringe in Carlisle's hand before the world explodes into fire all over again.
Pain, again, but this time I know it's coming, and I welcome it. Engines roar and arms tighten around me.
"It won't last forever, Bella, just hold on. Everything's going to be okay. When you wake up it won't hurt anymore, and we'll be far, far away. Together."
"She's going to be fine, Edward. Just listen to her heart. You won't have to worry anymore, she'll be stronger than all of them."
It's a small comfort in hell, but I'll take it. If I make it through I may be the fiercest one in the jungle after all.
~oЖo~
End of Act II
A/N: I almost feel bad for Aro. I mean, just because he's paranoid and delusional doesn't mean he's not almost right. One last act to go!