46. PERDITION
Edward ran. His legs moved faster than the rest, and it wasn't long before he realized that he was now very much alone. He halted briefly, and the wait for them to catch up, though it be for only one minute and thirty-six seconds, proved excruciating.
Normally, they would have reduced their speed, choosing to be more cautious in a foreign land on a brightening morning. However, not even Jasper suggested they slow down, not that Edward would have heeded him if he had. For now, they felt already late, scrambling to make up time and hasten themselves to the other side of Europe.
Yet, as fast as Edward's feet were carrying him, it was nothing compared to the velocity to which his brain now flew. Would they reach Paris in time? Would he somehow be able to prevent Bella from fighting, and combat in her stead? And, perhaps most importantly, how would they even find the dreaded Vicomte du Toulon?
Edward knew it would not be as easy as looking him up in the phonebook or Googling him on his iPhone... And with no point of reference to track him, Paris would prove to be the proverbial haystack.
Banishing such disparaging thoughts from his mind, he instead focused on what he could accomplish: reaching their car back in the National Park, and getting the hell on a plane.
Like meteors out of the sky, they reached their car; Edward already pulling open the driver's side door, about to climb in. Jacob and the others emerged out of the bushes now fully clothed, and rummaged for their phony passports from a small knapsack. "Alice," Edward called, an anxious note in his voice, "have you seen anything yet?"
Alice shook her head, no, looking somewhat discomfited. For two hours while they ran she had struggled to bring forth a vision, only to spend the remainder of the journey hiding the vision she had seen. It was not good news. Yet, as long as she didn't concentrate on it, Edward wouldn't see.
Jasper, however, so in tune with Alice's feelings, looked suspiciously at her, but said nothing. It was Alice's secret, and if she had cause enough to lie, Jasper knew it would only be for a good reason.
"Keep trying, will you?" Edward asked, visibly disappointed. As they all gathered around the car, a problem, which none of them had previously considered, sharply arose. There were seven of them, and their car would only seat five.
Alice was the first to break the head-scratching dilemma. "I call the trunk," she said, skipping over to it.
"Hell no! "Jasper immediately replied. "If anyone's riding in the trunk, it'll be me!"
"You're too big!" Alice countered.
"I vill ride in trunk," Tatiana considerately offered, receiving a panicked look from Jacob, only to likewise be rebuffed by Alice.
"You could suffocate! No! It makes sense. Edward and Jasper in the front, you four in the back, and me in the trunk."
Yet, trying to squeeze four werewolves in the back of a sedan proved even more difficult than anticipated. Edward shook his head. "There's no way Tatiana will fit, Jacob, not even on your lap. You two take the front, one of us will have to sit in the back with Sacha and Vladimir."
"I will!" Alice called out, but Jasper was quick to quash her concerns. He was far from in danger of biting either of the two Russians.
"No way! You said as much that I won't fit in the trunk. Problem solved."
"But..." Alice fretted as the werewolves began to climb into the car.
"Some faith, please," Jasper whispered, running his hand from her shoulder to her dainty wrist. "I'll be fine, really. If I can't endure a twenty minute car ride, I won't be able to last a three hour flight to France..."
Alice gave way, knowing that she could not argue any longer without further insulting Jasper's sensibilities.
She climbed into the cramped trunk, and Jasper gently closed it on top of her. He chose to sit directly behind Edward, but the close proximity of Sacha proved discomforting to say the least. They simply smiled awkwardly at each other, nodded, and looked away hurriedly. Jasper could only be thankful that they had no knowledge of his less than stellar past, for then they might not be as comfortable sitting next to a vampire such as him.
Edward drove much slower and more carefully with Alice tucked away in the trunk. Several times his foot instinctively pressed down upon the gas in the sole attempt to get to the airport as fast as possible. The love for his sister proved strongest, however, and he slowed down. A sharp turn at a high speed, and he suspected she would shoot through the trunk like a bullet out of a gun.
The airport reached, they split up. Alice and Jasper returned the keys for the car as Edward and the others hunted for the next flight to Paris. They stared at the giant monitor of all outgoing flights, each of their brows furrowed.
"That doesn't make sense..." Edward said, feeling as though his eyes were playing tricks on him. Every single flight to Paris was marked 'Delayed' in red. All other flights appeared 'On-Time'.
"Like hell it doesn't," Jacob said, his face clouding over with anger. "Someone's pulled a string."
"What are you talking about?" Edward demanded.
Jacob's experience with the enemy suddenly put him in a very interesting situation. He now understood why the Brethren would want him dead so badly. He simply knew too many of their dirty little secrets... "A phone call's all it takes, Edward. They know where we are, right? Just like you knew where to find me. They also know where we want to go. If this is purely a coincidence, then I'm a Russian ballet dancer!"
Tatiana could not help but snicker at the mental image of Jacob prancing across a stage in tights. "No, Yacoob..." she said, shaking her head as Sacha and Vladimir likewise exchanged bemused looks. "You no dance ballet..."
"That's what I'm saying, Baby," Jacob said, slightly mortified for how his analogy came out. "These flights are delayed deliberately. They want to slow us down."
Edward felt as though he was going to explode. Was he to have no luck after everything? If deterred in this, what next? Bella had said that he could not save her. Who, he wondered, had made this call, if indeed it had come from the Volturi? If there was blame to be given, he desperately wanted to point his finger at Aro and Caius. But deep down, he knew. This breathed of Bella. He trying to save her... She trying to save him... To what end? Were they both to lose?
Alice and Jasper ran up to them, already in tune with the events. "Delayed, we know," Alice said when Jacob was about to fill them in on the goings on. "Don't worry, Edward. If we rush, we can catch the Lufthansa flight. It will leave first."
Opening his eyes, he turned to her. "How soon?"
"Twenty minutes, max."
Not requiring any more encouragement, they bolted off to the ticket counter, Edward treating everyone to as he handed over his MasterCard. There were not enough seats in first class, only two. The rest of the party were forced to fly coach, and sit apart. While rushing to the gate, Edward grasped Alice's hand. "I need you to sit with me, Alice. Anything you see, I need to know right away. Okay?"
Alice nodded her head, but even while she ran, her steadfastness slipped. The image once again flashed in her mind's eye. Edward skidded to a halt, his hand not letting go of hers, and he pulled her back to him, his face in shock. "If you know something, you need to tell me!"
She stared up at him. You don't want to know, Edward. It's not good news...
Instinctively, he felt she was probably right, but he wanted it all the same. "Show me. Please, Alice," he begged. "I've got to know..."
Demetri, sank his teeth into something small and helpless in his powerful arms. Looking up, he saw the sad, frightened face of Bella.
Edward turned away, struggling to control his unnecessarily fast breathing. "How soon?" he asked gruffly, not entirely sure if he wanted to hear the truth. "How soon till this happens?"
Glancing at Jasper, Alice spoke honestly. "About forty-five minutes ago."
"Why didn't you tell me?!" he yelled, startling the tourists around them. Jasper placed a firm hand on his shoulder, straining to calm him down.
"I didn't see Bella fighting!" Alice cried. "I don't think it's happened yet!" But even as she spoke, desperate for Edward to not freak out, she never felt more like falling apart, herself.
"And, what if she had seen it, Edward?" Jasper reasoned, not letting go, despite Edward giving his shoulder a sharp wrench to break free. "We couldn't have moved any faster. All we can do now is get to Paris. Who knows? We may still arrive in time."
"What's this?" Jacob asked, looking from one to the other, his passport in hand. "What's going on? C'mon! We got a plane to catch!"
Edward, his face pained with all the suffering of not knowing if Bella was at this moment alive or dead, turned to Jacob. There were no words to describe his despair, his unyielding dread.
"What?!" Jacob asked again when none answered him. "What the hell is going on?!"
"We're too late," Alice said softly. "She's already there."
Jacob looked from Alice's crestfallen face, to that of Edward. "So?"
"So?!" Edward repeated incredulously.
"Yeah," Jacob replied, now louder, "So, what are we doing just standing around? Do you want to go to Paris or not?!"
The answer to such a question, for Edward at least, was not as easy as it seemed. He most definitely wanted to go to Paris if it meant he'd be with Bella again. He did not, if it meant she was dead. By going, Edward knew he would have to face the facts. If the Vicomte succeeded, there would be nothing left of Bella that he would recognize. He did not want to imagine her body being destroyed and burned...
"HELLO?!" Jacob said, waving his hand in front of Edward's tortured face. "Earth to Edward! Look, if you're not going, I'll be seeing ya, alright? We've really got to be getting somewhere."
"Don't you get it?" Edward spat, at last breaking free of Jasper's grasp. "She's there! Right now! She may die!"
"Yeah, I get it!" Jacob shot back. "We knew that was a possibility! So, let's go, already, and see if we can do something about it!"
"Yacoob," Tatiana whispered privately, though not quiet enough for keen vampire ears, "it too late." She wrapped her arms around Jacob's massive left one, interlacing her fingers with his. "He know he cannot save her now..."
Edward had heard her words as clearly as if she had screamed them at him. They were kindly meant and filled with pity, yet that didn't make them any less true. He turned away, wondering if Hell was nothing more than a state of mind. It needn't be a lake of fire, or a bottomless pit of darkness. He would have an eternity of pain and suffering just as easily on earth...
Just as Alice had predicted, they heard the boarding call over the intercom, and a great moan resounded as all the other passengers gratefully stood up, stretching, anxious to get on their way. Without a word or a look to his motley family, Edward joined the queue.
He boarded the plane, took his seat beside the window in first class, and buried his face in his hands. In the darkness of his mind's eye, he only saw Bella. Alive and human, smiling in the sun...sleeping in bed, clinging to him...the look on her beauteous face as they made love... It struck him as strange how he had ever desired to leave her. It was long ago, feeling more like another life, than a part of this one, but the memories were there. After having tasted how truly blissful life can be with her, he would never willingly choose to give her up. Unless, such as now, he may be forced to...
"Aaaah!" a male voice exhaled beside him, sounding distinctly un-Alice-like. Opening his eyes, Edward turned to see Jacob who sat smiling, examining all the gadgets that first class had to offer. "This is nice! Much better than the trip to Italy! Not as nice as the Volturi private jet, I'll have you know, but not bad!"
Edward stared at him, his hands still cradled closely to his face. He thought he had made it clear he wished Alice to sit with him...
Squinting his eyes as though trying to decipher something, Jacob said, "If you're done playing hide and go seek, maybe we could talk."
On a good day, Edward may have found Jacob's attempt at sarcasm slightly amusing. But, grieved as he was, he found it far from funny. "Where's Alice? I thought she was going to sit with me."
"Aw, how about you leave the poor girl alone for awhile," Jacob countered as the plane door shut in front of them. "Knowing you and you're weird-ass mind-reading capabilities, you'll know if she sees anything. Besides, I thought we could talk..."
"About what?" Edward asked suspiciously. Being stuck on a plane sitting beside Jacob Black suddenly seemed the least desirable thing he wanted to do.
Jacob, however, merely shrugged his shoulders. "I dunno. Maybe you could fill me in...on what I missed."
"I don't know what you're talking about," Edward grumbled, not in the least mood to make small talk with the likes of Jacob Black when he would much rather be wallowing in his own misery, making himself a sick, nervous wreak.
"C'mon. Play along, Edward. It's a three hour flight, and I doubt you'll be interested in the on-flight movie. Humour me, will you? Is...Bella mad at me?"
"Mad at you?" Edward repeated incredulously. "Why would she be mad at you? For what? Hanging up on her?"
"I didn't hang up on her!"
"Yeah, you did," Edward said, unaware of how the bickering was relaxing him. The plane glided out to the runway, and still they bantered back and forth like school children bickering over who owned which marble.
Jacob shook his head, glad that his plan had worked. At least Edward was now talking. "Gianna always was a nosey cow. I'll bet you fifty bucks she disconnected the phone. No, I meant, was Bella mad that I stayed in Volterra?"
The engines roared, and like a fiery phoenix soaring into the air, they took off. Edward shrugged his shoulder. "Worried more than anything. She really blamed herself for you being there. On account of you going to Italy to try and rescue her..."
It was now Jacob's turn to shrug his shoulders. "I thought you would be there for sure. You can't imagine my luck when you weren't. Well...until you did show up, that is..."
Edward thought back to that day, all those months ago. So much good had happened since then, and yet they seemed to be far worse off. He couldn't help but wonder if things would be different if he had come for her earlier. Would Aro have taken him under his wing? Would he and Bella now be married? Would he have been able to save her from all of this? As always, there seemed to be no answers to his questions. What is past, is past. It could not be changed any more than he could stop being a vampire.
"Ya know," Jacob said turning to him, "I don't know how you don't drive Bella crazy! You really are the brooding type, aren't you? Nothing but doom and gloom..."
But Edward was not in the mood for his witticism, even if it was meant to lighten his spirits. "Pardon me if I've lived a lot longer than you, and know how ruthless life can be. I wouldn't necessarily expect you to understand that. There is one thing that gives me joy in this world, and that is Bella. Without her, I am but a hollow shell of what I could be. We are not blessed with the reassuring thoughts of an afterlife if everything goes to Hell. To someone like me, an...immortal," he said, whispering the word, "...the big picture is all that I think about. I can't just shake my head and say, 'Well, if worse comes to worst, I'll just kill myself and see her later.' No. With her I am most assuredly in Heaven. Without her..." His voice cracked, and he turned away, hiding his weakness and insecurities from Jacob's mockery.
But, Jacob never felt like ridiculing him less. Whatever he had once wished for Bella, he couldn't deny that they loved each other. He bit his lip, and elbowed Edward sharply in his side. "You worry too much. Bella looks like a wimp, but she's pretty tough! Tougher than we give her credit for, I think. Best not to think the sky is falling..."
Edward nodded his head. They sporadically spoke during the remainder of the flight, but both seemed lost in the tumultuous pondering's of their minds.
It wasn't until the plane skidded on French soil at the Charles de Gaulle airport that Jacob turned to him, daring to breech the Bella subject again. "Has Alice had any sign? I mean, can't she...jump-start a vision, or something?"
But Edward merely shook his head. He had heard every fretting thought in her head the entire flight as she clung to her seat as if holding on for dear life. Yet, try as she might, no vision would materialize. "It's not an exact science," Edward said in her defense, though he had felt Jacob's frustration many a time before. "She can't will a vision to come... They appear when they appear..." Even to him it sounded like an excuse, but it was the truth. He needed to hear it as well. It wasn't Alice's fault. Besides, even if they did know how Bella was doing, there wasn't anything they could do about it. Was there?
They cleared Customs, and stood in the meeting area, the glass doors to the taxi stand not five yards away. Returning travelers embracing loved ones swirled around the desperate group of vampires and werewolves now huddled in a circle, unsure of what to do or say.
Edward rushed outside and after approaching each taxi driver, came back inside, defeated. The sensitive ears of both camps had all picked up the words 'Vicomte du Toulon' and each following negative response.
Tatiana's tender eyes glanced from Edward's melancholy face to Jacob's, whose features looked equally conquered. In a quiet voice, she whispered, "Do vee not go to her?"
"It's not that simple," Jacob replied, wrapping his arm around her. "We have no idea of where he even lives..."
"What about the Volturi?" Alice piped up. "Jacob, could you..."
But both he and Edward emphatically shook their heads. The former replying, "They'll wonder how I know about her mission... Not that I have any connections there anymore. They wouldn't willingly give me information that could disrupt their plans... Not to mention, they sent Edward to kill me."
"Jacob's right," Edward muttered. "They wouldn't voluntarily help us."
And so there they stood bouncing ideas back and forth. In the end, each one was quashed, due to lack of time, resources, or more logistical reasons. They had even tried calling Demetri and Bella to beg for more details, only to discover their phones switched off. It was as Edward had feared; Bella was in a place he had no knowledge of, ensconced in a foreign land.
They were defeated without even being able to put up a fight, and every second agonized burned Edward right to his fingertips. And, all this time, he and Alice had been turning to the four corners of Paris - searching, listening, probing the city for any little clue.
Vladimir, his brow furrowed much like all the others, looked at Edward. "So...vot vee do? If vee no help, vhere vee go?"
This was the decision that Edward had been dreading since Bella's call. Were they to give up all hope of reaching her? To do so felt nothing short of abandoning her to her death, which brought forth a fresh wave of guilt. What if they were to give up and she were to die? Could Edward ever forgive himself? Indeed, would he live long enough to try?
He gave a short, cynical laugh at that thought, not the least of which Alice found remotely funny.
No matter how he argued with himself, he knew that they had reached a dead end. And so, in a futile attempt to recapture the power stripped away from him, he launched into Plan B: his worst-case scenario. If (God forbid) Bella were killed, every last ounce of strength in him would seek out the Vicomte, no matter how long it took him, and he would make this murder a painful one. This deed may lead nowhere but the road to Perdition, but without Bella, he didn't care. Afterward, he would find a way to end his life (without including the Volturi) in hopes of someway, somehow, finding her in the dark unknown that was their afterlife. There simply couldn't be 'nothing'... One way or another, regardless of obstacles or hellish Furies, he would find her again. In life...or, if absolute need be, in death.
Feeling like an utter failure, Edward succumbed to the grave reality of the situation. "We go to the Eiffel Tower. If she's alive, she'll meet us there."
"It'll be alright, Edward," Alice said steadfastly, though as she had not yet seen any vision confirming that thought, Edward found it difficult to heed her words. Vague prophesies, if proven wrong, would hurt all the more to if he got his hopes up. For now, he felt dead inside, turning off all emotion that would only weaken him for what was to come. The massacre he hungered for in revenge.
They chose to take two taxis as opposed to renting cars, as it was unknown how long they were to stay in Paris. The sky looked like it could pour down rain at any moment, but for now, it seemed to be holding off.
In a daze that could only be thought of as a struggle to hold onto his sanity, Edward stared out the window, his eyes unseeing the spectacular architecture, historic monuments, and joie de vivre that Paris emanated. The closer they came to discovering Bella's fate, the more detached Edward became. He couldn't contemplate her demise and not completely fall apart. Not yet, anyway...
He saw it. France's national treasure eclipsed the sky like a beacon of hope, freedom, and love. Yet, to Edward, it seemed nothing short of a mockery. He turned his head away. Too soon. Too soon... They were so close, and soon they would know for certain...
The taxis arrived and pulled up to the curb. A wide paved area lay before the symbolic structure of love and romance as lovers gathered around, having their pictures taken.
Edward tossed a hundred Euros at the cabbie, gesturing casually that he did not require change. Werewolves and vampires once again converged together. Strangely, their eyes glanced everywhere, yet at nothing a tourist would think much of. They saw only people. "Shtaw anaa pa khaw deets?" Sacha inquired, his eyes straining through the crowd.
Those not knowing Russian, turned to Tatiana. "He want know, vot she look like?"
Edward felt his pockets, but realized without having to search them, he did not have a photo of her; that thought made him want to weep. Perhaps it was the knowledge that if she did not come to him that day, he would not even be able to stare at a photo of her to appease his grief...
In a stroke of genius, Alice dove into her small knapsack and withdrew her camera. They all crowded close together, their head's nearly touching. Edward and Jasper strained in to see too, despite knowing full well what Bella looked like. On the small view finder, there was Edward, clad in an ugly pale grey tuxedo, looking as awkward and uncomfortable as ever. It had been their last happy day, before the storm had come, dashing all their hopes aside.
Jacob sniggered, and the mood seemed to lighten. It was as though they could no longer stand the anguish of the situation, and needed a laugh. Onward Alice clicked through the photos, some of Edward, others of Emmett, until at last, there was the desired photo of her and Bella smiling into the camera, both radiant and completely unaware of the troubled times just minutes away. That moment in time held nothing but mirth for the endless future, like a quiet sea, seemingly calm and not fraught with such perils as dark Volturi deeds.
Vladimir nodded his head, giving Edward his approval for his choice. "I no like vampire," he said in his broken English, 'but, she good."
"Thanks," Edward replied, his half-cocked grin on his face. "I've always thought so."
With his hand extended at chest level, Vladimir asked, "How much big?"
Edward, placing his hand on Vladimir's, lowered the height a little and said, "This big."
"Not so very big," Vlad shot back with a laugh.
Alice pocketed her camera, and now everyone, Bella's image clearly imprinted onto their minds, glanced about at the hundreds of people, and searched for that one sweet face.
There they stood at the base of la Tour Eiffel when a musician with a concertina approached, a cup held fast by a string around his neck.
Edward never heard the music. He did not even turn as the man stood beside him, masterfully swaying his arms to and fro as he played the small accordion. It was not until a particular sequence of notes was reached that Edward mentally knew what was to come next. Clair de Lune... And hearing the soothing melody nearly brought him to the point of surrendering all hope. It never ceased to amaze him how a simple piece of music could hold such power as to bring someone unyielding joy, or utter desolation... Not wanting to fall to pieces now, he shoved his hand in his pocket pulling out fifty Euros, and thrust it ruthlessly into the man's cup.
The musician, however, far from perceiving himself to be a nuisance after receiving so handsome a gift, merely bowed and smiled, and continued to play his droll melody. "Une demande? Queest-ce que je peux jouer pour vous?"
"Nothing," Edward said, waving his hand at him. "Go away." Then, recalling where he was, he said the same in French. "Va-t'en."
"Non, monsieur! 'Oo are you waiting for? Your lady love, n'est pas? Perhaps a song d'amour? Verlaine, ici."
He began playing a tune that breathed of French nights in smoke-filled concert halls; strolling on cobbled streets under lamplight along the Champs Elysés; moonlight glistening off the River Sienne as lovers kiss neath its beguiling glow...
Yet, Edward was not to be swept away. The song was immediately banished from his thoughts for in his mind, he was sifting through the hundreds of voices around him for something familiar.
And then, out of the chaotic cacophony of voices came a word he very much knew: Bella. His head whipped around, and instinctively, as he had practiced over the years, he began the process of elimination, quickly discarding foreign tongues, and then likewise with English-speaking tourists. Through the deafening roar of thoughts and words reverberating in his head, it slowly grew quieter, and he masterfully now only heard such voices that could be possibilities.
But, had the name been a mistake? Was there, in the sea of faces and voices, another girl with that name? Yet, as his mind and eyes searched the ocean of people coming and going, he heard it again. ...Bella is much...
And as quickly as it appeared, it again vanished, as though toying with his very heart, much like a cat tugging on a string.
Suddenly, Alice gasped, and like a lion pouncing, Edward focussed on her mind, seeing what she saw. In the vision, he grew only more desperate for Bella. His head turned to his right, and there, just as in the clear vision not two moments before, sat a red truck, its lights blinking as it stopped traffic, forcing honking cars to move around it. Without certainty but with assuredness of heart, he began to run.
Forced to move at human speed, he nevertheless whipped past the meandering tourists, their eyes cast upward at France's national monument d'amour. Edward's eyes, however, searched for something much more desirable.
And then, he skidded to a halt, for there she stood, Demetri and Heidi at her side. Bella.
