AN: Sorry this chapter is a little late! The editing took a bit longer than I thought. Hope you all are staying safe!

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN: TRAINING

…

The two most important things you'll need to remember are,

First, don't let them get their arms around you,

And second, don't go for the obvious kill,

That's all they'll be prepared for.

- Jasper, Eclipse, Chapter 18

…

Those next few seconds after Caius gave the order dragged on for what felt like an eternity. It wasn't that everything was happening slowly—no, in fact, everything was happening much too fast.

But my sensory capabilities were so much better now—a thousand times better than they'd been in those moments just before I'd nearly been crushed by Tyler's van. And I was trying to focus on everything at once, to decide how I was going to survive. So, thanks to a super-powered brain kicked into overdrive by the direness of my current situation, time seemed to drag.

I saw Aro out of the corner of my eye. He'd floated a safe distance away, as soon as Caius gave the order. And was watching me, with wide, curious eyes.

Just ahead of me stood Caius, his face impassive. I couldn't tell if he was interested in the upcoming fight or not.

But his two bodyguards had left his side, and had chosen Alec and Makenna—the only two vampires' whose match had ended in a draw—to be their partners for this round. So, I guessed he had decided this room was safe enough.

Behind them, everyone in both the victor's line and the loser's line began breaking off in pairs, and spreading out around the room. They seemed to automatically know, without being instructed, who to challenge next. Something, I guessed must come from centuries of practice.

But as the cloaked figures zipped away from the plastic-padded walls they'd been lined up against, one short woman with long waves of black hair, and a roman nose remained. She gave Caius the tiniest of bows. Then she began marching directly toward me, her eyes full of murderous intent.

I swallowed.

This was it.

I wasn't at all dressed for battle. Under my new cloak and Volturi necklace, I was still wearing the frilly white shirt, tight black jeans, and short, flat boots Alice had provided for my induction this morning. And as I'd told Caius before, I had exactly zero fighting experience. So rather than attacking, I waited for her to come to me.

She marched across the plastic mats slowly, but deliberately—the pace of the invincible. By the time she had halved the gap between us, everyone else was well into the middle of their respective fights. But I wasn't about to rush her. If she wanted to take her time, that was fine by me. It gave me more time to think.

Should I go directly for her neck? Or will she be expecting that? Maybe I should try to grab her around the middle?

I reviewed a hundred different strategies in my mind. But I had no experience to point me in the right direction. No idea which strategies would work. And which would result in spectacular failure.

And what about her powers? I wondered, when I'd exhausted all my options for strike points, and come to the end of my paltry knowledge of fighting moves. She said she can plant thoughts in the minds of others who are charging, and send them confused, in another direction. But will that even work on me?

I reached out mentally, feeling for the thin, silky edges of my mind-shield wrapped tightly around my brain, while Renata stalked closer. I found them easily—much more easily than when I had been human. That had been like groping in the dark for a blanket. But finding my shield now was as easy as finding any other part of my body. And I could have moved it just as easily too.

But that wasn't what I wanted.

Instead, as Renata made her way closer, wearing the same strange, stretchy fighting clothes as everyone else, I tried to focus on reinforcing my shield. On making it clamp down tighter on my brain, so there weren't any leaks. No gaps at all that might let in Renata's defensive suggestions.

The shimmering red fabric in my mind's eye pulsed, then squeezed my brain tighter like I wanted it to. But I wasn't sure that was going to help any. I still didn't fully understand why I was immune to some powers—like Edward's, Carlisle's Aro's, and Jane's—but not to Alice's or Jasper's. So, I felt like there was a fifty-fifty chance that I might not be immune to Renata's gift.

I hunkered into a crouch—the only fighting stance I knew—just in case. And sucked in a deep, unnecessary breath.

Alice was right, breathing, was helpful. I might not need it. But the air carried so many useful smells—the various, sunshine and sugar scents of the guard, the ancient dust piling on the sils of the high window slits, the chalky smell of stone, the chemical scent of plastic and synthetic fabrics, the wooly smell of roughly twenty cloaks, and the leathery aroma of forty boots…

I could smell everything around me. And that hyper-awareness of my surroundings was exactly what I needed in order to be prepared for Renata's attack.

I heard her first. Her boots set down on the squeaky plastic mats differently than before, prepping to jump.

Then I smelled her next. Her movements sent a current of air mingled with her scent toward me. She had the same floral, sweet bright smell all vampires had mixed with her unique undertones of vanilla and leather.

And finally, I saw her push off the ground with both feet, and fly up into the air.

She looked positively radiant, sailing through the room. Her dark hair fanned out behind her just right. And her cloak billowed, like a great black butterfly spreading its wings. And I might have only been able to stare stupidly at her in shock, had I been human. But my mind worked quicker too, filing away the crystal-clear memory for later. And focused on preparing for when she landed.

Renata was headed straight for me. And I could tell, from the absolutely lethal look in her eyes, that until I cried "Pieta", she was going to do everything in her power to kill me.

I tried to take a quick step back, like Alice had during her fight with Felix, to put myself just out of her reach. But I overshot—by a lot.

I knew I was a lot faster as a vampire. But until now, I'd never actually tried to move quickly. Aside from my own, disastrous feed, I'd mostly just been doing normal things—walking, sitting, standing, nodding, gesturing. And they had only ended up supernaturally fast because of how quickly my new brain worked.

But now that I was trying to move as fast as I could, I realized just how much I'd been holding back.

My new legs propelled me backwards probably a hundred feet before I could even blink. And I had to throw out my hands wildly to steady myself when I suddenly decelerated.

Unfortunately, immortality hadn't improved my balance. And my sudden rush and stop jerked me forward, the way slamming the breaks on the freeway did.

I did everything I knew to stay upright. And while I tottered precariously, Renata landed exactly where I'd stood, just fractions of a second before.

I hoped to have a few seconds, while she was down in a three-point-landing, to formulate a better plan than dodge. But in just as little time as it had taken me to launch myself away from her, she was on her feet and headed for me again. This time opting to close the distance with a sprint, just in case I tried to dodge her lunge the same way again.

I cursed under my breath at my bad luck—something Renata heard and laughed at.

Then, all too soon, it was time to evade again. Her teeth, gleaming in two neat, white rows, started snapping near my neck as soon as she got close. I could smell the venom on her breath, wet and sweet.

I ducked as fast as I could, just before her mouth snapped shut, so her teeth closed around air, rather than my throat. I tried to force some extra stability into my legs after I went down, so I wouldn't topple over. Then, while I worked on my balance, her pale, sand-colored fingers shot out, reaching for my waist.

I tried to think of a strategy, some way to twist this scenario to my advantage, like the way Alice had when she'd slung her leg over Felix, and forced him onto the ground. But in the heat of the moment, that was next to impossible. My instincts were clamoring at me, repeating the same incessant mantra, dodge, dodge, dodge. And I had to concentrate very hard not to move too far when I did dodge, making it very hard to think about anything else.

I messed up a few times, zipping to the complete other side of the room, when I'd only meant to take a few quick steps to the left or the right. And then, I had to wait for her to chase me down again.

But after a while I started to get the hang of it. Started to be able to focus on minimizing my movement. Started to be able to move short distances at incredible speeds.

It took a lot of concentration. I had to picture each movement vividly in my mind—exactly how far I wanted it to take me, down to the millimeter. And even then, I was far from perfect. But I was learning.

I dodged Renata's hands and teeth a few more times—zipping slightly left and slightly right so fast I would probably be invisible to the human eye. It was weird how clear my vision was, even at those impossible speeds. The individual fibers on Renata's clothes still stood out in sharp detail. I could count every one of her dark eyelashes. Even the thousands of tiny dust motes floating around the room didn't blur in the slightest.

But it was very helpful in helping me avoid all of her attacks. I couldn't miss anything now. Not unless she somehow snuck up behind me.

Renata snapped at my throat one last time. Then, realizing that wasn't working, she reached for my waist.

I jumped, on instinct, to avoid the arms closing around my sides. And, because I wasn't thinking this time, I overshot again.

I had only meant to spring just high enough to carry my feet above Renata's head. Higher than I'd ever jumped as a human, but I figured it was probably doable as a vampire.

But I'd been so afraid that I wouldn't make it, that I hadn't focused hard enough on the exact distance. So rather than going up maybe six or seven feet in the air, I sailed all the way up to the ceiling—some seventy feet up. In fact, I would have smacked it with my head if I hadn't braced it with my hand first, and pushed myself back down.

The bricks that covered the top of the room were not insulated with shock-absorbing plastic. They fractured instantly under the impact of my splayed hand. And I felt a stab of guilt as I sailed back toward the ground, with bits of powdery rock clinging to my fingers, and crumbling from the ceiling.

Oops…

I watched sadly, as a few bricks crumbled to dust completely, exposing the rafters and dirt above. Then, deciding my apology to Aro could wait until the fight was over, I looked down to see where I should try to fall.

Renata maneuvered to intercept me when I landed. I guessed she wasn't worried about me having the upper-hand if I perched on her shoulders. And that worried me.

If I land on top of her, I'll be in a good position to twist things to my advantage. Maybe even get my hands around her neck. She has to know this. So, does she really trust my fighting skills to be that bad?

If I was being honest with myself, my fighting skills probably were that bad. I'd never even been taught to throw a proper punch. And I still couldn't really control this body. So, realizing I might not have the upper-hand after all, I tried to steer myself in midair away from her.

It was difficult—she kept following me on the ground. But a moment later, I managed to drop to the floor a few feet to her left. And this time, I wasn't going to wait for her to attack.

I broke into a run as soon as I touched down, barreling toward her before she could start sprinting for me. And to my surprise, and satisfaction, she didn't try to run. Instead, she firmly held her ground, and stuck out two forbidding hands, as if they might halt my approach.

I was confused as to what she was trying to pull—surely, she couldn't think I would respond to a gesture—when suddenly, I realized she wastrying to use her powers. Trying to plant thoughts in my head that would send me dashing off in the other direction.

I felt a slight tingle against my mental shield as I bolted towards her. But her gift hardly tickled the surface. So, rather than running away, like she wanted me to, I kept on course, running straight for her.

Renata's eyes widened slowly in horror as she watched me continue to sprint. Her powers hadn't worked. Then, as I threw out a hand, ready to latch it around her throat as soon as I was in grabbing distance, I saw the cogs in her brain whirr to life.

I wasn't Edward, but I could almost hear what she was thinking—that was how clear the emotions were on her face. It was too late to run, she knew that. She also knew she was no match for me physically. As a newborn, I would have the upper hand there. And her hand-to-hand combat skills, since she had never anticipated that her talents would ever fail her, were probably only marginally better than mine.

All outcomes pointed to me winning. And, had I actually been intending to kill her, she would have been totally screwed.

So, just before my fingers closed around her throat, Renata decided to prostrate herself at my feet. And as soon as she was lying, face-down on the floor, she cried out.

"Pieta!"

I slowed rapidly to a halt. A little too rapidly.

I meant to freeze in place, the way Alice had when Felix had surrendered. But it was harder than it looked to completely arrest momentum that way. So, I stumbled after I came to a stop. Then fell, face-first, on top of Renata's prone form.

She screamed hysterically when my body landed, awkwardly, on top of her. She must have thought I was still attacking. That I was breaking the rule which said I had to stop after she surrendered. That she was going to actually die.

I tried to get off of her as quickly as possible. I wanted to explain that I was just a klutz who didn't know yet how to handle her own speed and strength.

But Renata's shrieks garnered the attention of nearly everyone in the room. Half of the guard stopped their own fights to see what all the noise was about. And Caius turned away from the fight he'd been watching to look at me, his cold, crimson eyes full of piercing reproach.

I swallowed thickly. I was in for it now.

"I'm so sorry…" I began apologetically. "I know I'm not supposed to touch her after… but I tripped. I didn't mean to—"

Aro swiftly cut me off. "There is no need," He made a stiff, halting gesture, first towards me, then another toward Caius before the snowy-haired vampire would think of punishing me. "You did nothing wrong," he assured me.

It was my turn to blink in disbelief now. He wasn't mad at me? Even though I'd broken the only rule these matches had?

As if to prove he was sincere, Aro flitted to my side, and offered to help me up. I took his hand as soon as he held it out, eager to get off of the screaming woman beneath me as soon as possible. Then, he easily hoisted me up with one arm, like I weighed no more than a feather, and set me down on the padded floor, next to Renata's crumpled cloak.

Renata fell silent as soon as my weight was off her. Then, half a moment later, she suddenly sat up, and looked warily around the room, as though she suspected she might still be under threat.

I smiled sheepishly at her when her eyes found mine, and mouthed the word, sorry.

"I fully expect to see more where that came from," Aro declared, clasping his pale hands together in anticipation.

"You want me to scare the crap out of Renata again?"

I sent a bewildered glance towards Renata. She gazed at Aro with wide, scarlet eyes, and shook her head.

"Master…" she whimpered, pleading.

"There is no need for a rematch," Aro told us both, and Renata breathed a tiny sigh of relief. "The victor of this round is indisputable."

I felt a rush of pride as he gestured to me. The victor. Then a sudden swelling of guilt as I saw the look on Renata's face when it dawned on her that she was the loser. I'd never meant to hurt her feelings.

I tried to make my face apologetic. But without a mirror I wasn't sure if it was working. My new body didn't always respond to my commands the way I wanted it to.

Either way, Renata wasn't even looking. As soon as Aro had effectively declared her the loser, she stood up and marched, with her head bowed, toward the gaggle of other losers huddled near the east wall.

I watched her enmesh herself reluctantly with the other cloaked bodies. Some of them raised eyebrows at her, then flicked dubious glances at me, suggesting they didn't quite understand how she had lost to an unpracticed newborn. And my guilt only grew stronger as I saw her bite her lower lip in frustration, and ball her hands into tiny, veiny fists.

Aro didn't miss the way I was looking at her. He gave my shoulder a conciliatory pat. "Do not worry for her, Isabella," he encouraged. "She simply has not lost a match in a very long time. You are the first to be immune to her gift. This will, in the end, be good for her, I think."

I nodded numbly, still not quite sure I believed that. Renata looked absolutely mortified to have to stand in the same line as Afton. But, realizing that everyone else had already moved on—either they had resumed their fight, after pausing to watch Renata scream, or were standing against one of the long walls, waiting for the round to be over—I tried not to think about it too hard.

Instead, I walked, with as much dignity as I could muster after tripping so spectacularly, towards the victor's line.

There weren't very many people here yet—most of the vampires were still finishing their fights. But Alice had already beaten her opponent, Kadir—one of the Volturi's lower ranking guards who probably was new enough to have never fought her before. And Jane had dealt decisively with Marcus' African bodyguard who had won in the previous round. I still wasn't sure if he was Wambua or Kofe. Whichever was which, both now stood with the others who had lost.

As I approached the two short girls standing against the west wall, I noticed they had deliberately put a large space between them, and were staring pointedly in opposite directions. Like they couldn't even stand to look at each other.

The gesture struck me as horribly petty. Especially the way tiny Jane had her arms crossed over her chest and was pouting childishly. But it wasn't hard to guess where the animosity came from. Not since Alice had explained their rivalry earlier.

Hoping to diffuse, rather than contribute to the conflict, I slipped into the space they'd left open, next to Alice. Jane, to my relief, ignored me. She was too busy glowering at the Asian bodyguard fighting Alec. And Alice smiled when she saw me.

I smiled back. "You're really good at this."

Alice looked abruptly abashed. She waved a dismissive hand. "Oh it's… nothing…"

"No really," I insisted. "I saw your fight with Felix. I thought he would have had you for sure, but…"

Alice chuckled a little under her breath. "Felix is so predictable. Every time he wound up for an attack, I saw it coming a mile off." She mimed a really slow punch, then laughed again. "He relies almost entirely on his physical strength. He could use some lessons from Caius about subterfuge."

My eyes widened. "Have you ever…?"

"Fought Caius?" Alice finished for me, already knowing what I was going to ask.

I nodded. And Alice beamed.

"A couple of times," She said, reminiscing fondly. "He's… something else. You might be tempted to think, because he has no notable powers, and none of the prodigious strength that Felix and Santiago have that he wouldn't be much of a threat. But… well just watch."

Alice pointed across the room. And to my astonishment, when I followed the line of her finger, I saw that Caius had joined the fight to make the number of combatants even. He was up against Vera. And though she was putting up a good fight—not only dodging effectively, but also taking full advantage of his openings—it was obvious who had more combat experience.

For every attack Vera launched at him, Caius had the perfect counterattack. Unlike her, he never dodged. Instead, whenever her hands reached to grab him, around his waist or around his neck, he would grab her hands before they could intercept him, and twist them around into an armlock.

It terrified me every time. He was able to drag her neck very close to her mouth when she was trapped like that. But Vera was always able to escape, kicking herself free of his grasp just before his teeth snapped together. Though he got closer to sinking them into her skin every time.

I watched, fascinated, as Caius' hands swiped for Vera's head after she broke free from his fifteenth armlock. She ducked away from them at the last second, letting his powerful fingers ghost through the air above her.

But, clearly, Caius had been expecting this. Because during the fraction of a second while her head was still bowed, he lunged for her legs, gripping them tightly behind the knees.

The sudden pressure disrupted Vera's balance. And let Caius fling her up over his shoulders onto the floor. Like some kind of martial-arts takedown.

The plastic mats beneath her body vibrated as she made impact. And once Vera was down, Caius wasted no time climbing on top of her, pinning her wrists with his hands, and her legs with his knees.

After all, he couldn't rely on the blunt-force-trauma to keep her down. Vampires didn't even bruise. So a concussion was out of the question.

Vera wriggled, trying to kick or claw herself free. But this time, Caius had all of her appendages locked down.

So, while she struggled fruitlessly beneath him, he was able to lean in. And position his teeth over her neck.

Vera was a proud one. She waited until only a millisecond before Caius' teeth would have carved into her neck before she admitted defeat. And when the necessary word to stop him spilled from her lips, it came out more like a choked sob, than anything else.

"P-pieta…"

Caius, to my immense relief, froze exactly like Alice had, just before his teeth touched her skin. Then he slowly moved back, savoring his victory, and smirked with sadistic pleasure.

Vera shivered, still pinned beneath his powerful, bleach-white hands. And didn't stop shaking until Caius had lifted off her entirely, and marched proudly to his rightful place in the victor's line.

I gulped as Caius slunk into place in front of Alice. And tried not to stare at him. Even if his shocking, snow-white hair hung like a curtain over his shoulder, obscuring me and Alice from his view.

Instead, I turned to watch the other battles. But as my eyes roved over the expansive room coated in red plastic, I noticed everyone else was already finishing up. And it looked like it was time to start the next round.

A few cries of "pieta" could be heard in unison. Soon enough everyone was standing in either the loser's line, or the victor's line. Then Aro—who wasn't fighting himself to keep the numbers even—floated across the plastic matted floor. Somehow, he moved without making the plastic squeak under his boots. A skill obtained from walking for so many millennia, I guessed.

He came to a sudden stop when he reached the victor's line. His eyes flicked curiously across all the faces assembled here, until they fell on Jane.

"Jane, my dear, would you be willing to engage with Isabella?"

The little vampire immediately stepped forward from the lineup. I thought her short black boots and tight black fighting clothes looked very out of place on her girlish figure. Especially when they were worn under the austere, old cloak of the Votluri guard. But I didn't doubt, having seen her fight Chelsea already, and knock Edward onto the floor with only the force of her mind, that she was a formidable enemy.

Jane gave an obedient nod towards Aro before suddenly fixating her wild red eyes on me.

"I would be delighted to, Master," she said in her high, cold voice. Then her pouty lips curled into a malefic sneer.

"I'm not so sure that's…" I began to protest. I really didn't want to gain any more enemies today. The way Chelsea and Renata were glowering at me from their places in the loser's line wasn't making me feel very good as it was.

But mid-sentence, I realized something. I already knew Jane's powers wouldn't affect me. So maybe this would be an easy fight. Maybe she too, like Renata, used her gift as a crutch. Maybe she had no idea how to fight without it.

And maybe, once I'd wiped the floor with her, I could get her to leave Alice alone.

I liked the sound of that.

I shook my head firmly, to refute what I'd been saying. "Never mind." Then, I sneered right back at Jane, and beckoned tauntingly. "Bring it on."

Jane snarled in offence. And every other vampire in the room inhaled in shock.

Afton even murmured something under his breath in Italian—something I suspected probably translated into Oh, this is going to be good.

Either that, or she's screwed. I wasn't sure how much faith in me the scrawny Scandinavian vampire had. But it hardly mattered. Because the fight had already started.

While I still stood against the victor's wall, Jane paced some thirty feet away then stared at me in an intense, creepy way. Like she was trying to burn a hole straight through my skull with only her mind.

Her efforts were entirely in vain, of course, as they had been when I was human. This time, however, I could feel her power touch my shield—something I hadn't been able to perceive while I was still mortal.

But the pressure her power exerted against my mind wasn't even painful. In fact, I barely felt it at all. It was so insubstantial, it felt like a little puff of air blowing against an impenetrable safe.

Jane's pearly teeth gritted in frustration after a few seconds passed with no visible reaction from me. And then, shaking with fury, she tried harder. She balled her fists so tightly at her sides that her bloodless veins bulged under the pressure. One vein near her temple looked ready to burst. And through it all, she never broke eye contact. She just kept staring, harder and harder.

But even when she exerted the full force of her powers on me, the sensation was soft and weak, like a whisper, or a lover's caress. Not the searing agony I knew she was capable of inducing.

It was a surreal experience, being almost tickled by Jane's torture powers. And judging from the stunned looks I was getting from the rest of the vampires in the room, I wasn't the only one who believed so.

Apparently, no one else had ever withstood Jane like this before. And even though this was their second time seeing it, they still found that hard to believe.

My lips twisted with grim satisfaction.

It was time to give the sadistic little girl a taste of her own medicine.

Without any warning, I took off running. I zipped in a straight line towards Jane at full speed. The air whipped around me like a wind tunnel as I moved—so fast. And while I ran, my little grin of satisfaction grew into a savage smile.

There was a millisecond during which nothing changed. Jane's eyes were still on me, wide and dangerous. And her gift continued to prod impotently at the edges of my shield.

Then suddenly her eyes registered my movement. And Jane's cherubic face, once full of furious determination, melted into one of unadulterated fear.

The tiny pressure against my mental barrier vanished entirely then. And Jane, my opponent, watched my swift progress across the padded floor for only a fraction of a moment. Before the terrible epiphany she was having prompted her to turn around. And begin to sprint desperately away.

She was fast. Impressively fast, especially considering her size. I hadn't expected her tiny little legs to be able to carry her that far.

But I'd gotten a good head-start. And thanks to the newborn strength supercharging my legs, I was faster.

Not even a full second after our fight had begun, I was within grabbing distance. I swiped at her neck. Jane dodged. I swiped again. She dodged again. And again. And again.

But though she was well trained in evasion, I could tell from her petrified-in-horror face that she knew she could not evade me forever. And when my hands shot out the fifth time, I proved her right.

She ducked away from them when they reached for her head, as usual. But then, deciding to take a page out of Caius' and Alice's book, I used the opportunity to attack.

I didn't grab her knees or sling my leg over her shoulder. Instead, I delivered a sharp knee to her chest. The blow wasn't really meant to hurt, just to knock her off balance. And it succeeded in that quite well.

Tiny Jane tottered where she stood. Then, while she was still struggling to regain her footing, I kicked her twice in the shins, knocking her legs out from under her. And she fell, like a box of rocks, to the floor.

I heard Aro gasp as Jane's body hit the plastic mats with a quiet, squeaky, thud. But I didn't look over my shoulder at him. The fight wasn't over just yet.

While Jane was down, I planted one of my boots on her right arm. I hoped this would get her to admit defeat.

And for a fractionary moment, it appeared like it was working. Jane didn't struggle. Instead, she lied, face down on the floor like Renata had before; completely immobile.

Then, suddenly, she twisted her little head towards her right arm. She opened her mouth wide. And I realized, with no small amount of terror, that she intended to bite off the arm that was still trapped securely beneath my boot in order to escape.

I was astonished that she would really go that far in a sparring match. But as my eyes flickered between the unbelievable sight and Aro—who stood a few feet away, watching us with undisguised fascination—I came to a realization.

He probably wanted our fights here to be as realistic as possible. To more adequately prepare us to survive. And if this was real combat, Jane would lose a lot more than just an arm if she stayed trapped.

But, just as her teeth were about to slice through the sleeve of her combat clothes and take her arm with it, I decided not to let Jane make that desperate sacrifice. I grabbed the sides of her head with my hands, and wrenched it away from her arm.

Jane snarled and started thrashing as I craned her head away, trying to free herself. Her free arm scratched viciously at my foot, as it pressed down on her wrist. And her legs kicked wildly, trying to hit me wherever they could.

But neither of these things bothered me in the slightest. Her physical attacks were just as soft and weak as her mental ones.

I let her struggle for a minute or so. Her hard, little fingers shredded my boot, socks and the hem of my dark jeans, but did no damage whatsoever to my skin. Then I pressed my other boot against the back of her head, forcing it to tilt up.

Jane looked up at me, swallowing hard. And I smiled—no, I bared my teeth at her.

She shuddered at the feral display, and stared up at me, this time with eyes pleading, rather than piercing. But I narrowed my eyes. She still hadn't said the magic word.

So, I pulled back my lips to expose my teeth even more. And lowered my head towards her neck.

Finally, realizing her current situation was inescapable, she inhaled shakily. And a tiny, breathy "pieta…" escaped her trembling lips.

Her pathetic plea would have been totally imperceptible to human ears. But every single person convened in this room heard the unbelievable sound. And many gasped in open amazement.

"Isabella won against Jane?" the freckled vampire, Petra, murmured in a thick, French accent.

She was still standing in the victor's line from the previous match. And I realized as my eyes flicked over to her, taking in her strange mottled complexion, which looked odd combined with her smooth, unblemished skin, that no one besides Jane and I had moved. That, rather than picking a sparring partner for this round, everyone from both lines had opted to stand still and watch us instead.

I felt horribly self-conscious. Especially positioned as I was, still crushing Jane's wrist under my heel.

But luckily, Afton came to my rescue. "Isabella? I would have never guessed she was capable," he contributed blithely from the other side of the room.

As soon as the words left his lips, everyone glared at him, even though I knew many of them had been thinking the same thing. And a few even had the audacity to try and tell him off. I guess he really was the Volturi laughingstock.

While everyone's attention was diverted, I quickly drew back my foot. Then kindly offered an upturned palm to help Jane to her feet.

For a fraction of a second Jane stared disbelievingly at the hand I was offering her, like it was a foreign object. Then, wearing an indignant expression, she swatted my hand away. And hauled herself to her feet on her own, before walking swiftly away from me.

I guessed her pride could only take so much.

At first, I thought she was overreacting. But as she marched, slowing with every step, toward the loser's line, I realized she had every reason to not make herself look any weaker by accepting my help. Afton's comment had only distracted the other Volturi guard members momentarily. Now their eyes were all rapt on Jane. And a few in the loser's line were even jeering at her as she shuffled toward them gradually, clearly ashamed.

Jane flinched with each insult. And the entire time, she kept her eyes glued to the ground in order to avoid the embarrassment of watching the entire guard mock her weakness. She didn't even raise her head, when she reached the other side of the wall.

Instead, she kept it hung. And suddenly I thought I understood how she felt. With our perfect memories, no one would be able to forget this defeat—Jane's first defeat, if I was reading everyone's expressions correctly. Her humiliation would be preserved forever.

Abruptly, I felt like some kind of apology was in order. "Jane… I'm sorry, I…"

"Don't you dare patronize me!" Jane hissed acidly.

I snapped my mouth shut instantly.

Jane gave me one last murderous glare before I turned around. Then, as I flitted to the opposite wall to join the other victors, immediately they began to negotiate sparring pairs amongst themselves. As they debated, they decided to add Aro in this round. But that meant there was no one left to fight with me.

"I appreciate your enthusiasm to include me," Aro praised, smiling genially. "But for now, in order to keep our numbers even, I must decline. Is there anyone else who wishes to face Isabella instead?"

The victors all began arguing in heated whispers then. No one wanted to be forced to combat me after the devastating spectacle with Jane, it seemed.

Aro's chiseled face twisted into a subtle frown. Evidently, he wasn't too surprised that no one wanted to go against the newborn that had broken Jane's centuries long undefeated streak. But there was no escaping the fact that I needed to be trained to fight. So I wouldn't be completely useless when the fateful day in Alice's predictions finally arrived.

I didn't know exactly how long we had. Alice's June 15th prediction was flexible. But I knew I couldn't just sit this next round out. After all, Jane was already squaring up again to send fourth-row guard Xavier screaming to the floor.

"No one?" Aro prompted, casting a dubious glance at Alice.

But, before he could say anything else, she was already halfway across the room, locked in determined combat with a different partner. And before Aro could call out anyone else in the victor's line specifically, they scrambled to do the same.

Alice had grabbed Petra, and practically dragged her to the opposite corner of the room to fight. Alec paired with Felix next. Then Demetri challenged Niko. And Heidi called for the taller of Marcus' bodyguards standing next to her in the victor's line—Kofe, I learned.

That left only me and…

…Caius.

I swallowed as my eyes flicked over to him. There was no way this could end well.

Or so I believed.

There was only one way to really find out.

Before I could think better of it, I adopted a confrontational stance, spreading my legs to match my shoulder-width and hunkering down slightly, as I had seen numerous athletes do on television. That way Caius would immediately know what I wanted.

"Fight me," I taunted. Then, abruptly remembering my manners, I awkwardly added, "Er… please?"

Caius turned to face me slowly and raised a snowy eyebrow.

I felt a tidal wave of embarrassment wash over me. "You said you wanted to test my natural fighting abilities, right?" I added, trying to phrase it as politely as I could. Trying to dig myself out of this hole I was burying myself in. "Well, what better way to test me then to fight me yourself?"

I tried to smile. But it wasn't working. My brain was too busy warning me that this was the mother of all stupid ideas. That if I fought Caius, I was going to die.

And that feeling only increased when Caius suddenly dashed towards me. His eyes were dark with murderous intent. His whole body was tensed into hard, furious lines. And he was fast.

As he sped like a flash of lightning in my direction, I couldn't decide whether or not he was protesting or acquiescing my desire to fight. But it hardly mattered anyway. Because his livid, fiery eyes, and his muscles surging with all the wrath of a war god scared the crap out of me.

Every instinct begged me to flee. Run. He's got way more combat experience than you. He will eviscerate you! Run!

Stupidly, I ignored the feeling, determined to face him head-on. And even more stupidly, rather than waiting for him to make the first move, despite my complete lack of training, I tried to punch him first.

I launched two quaking fists in the general vicinity of his face as he closed the space between us.

The first embarrassingly sailed completely over his head. Either that, or he had ducked just in time. He moved so quickly, it was hard to tell, even with my new senses.

But, to my surprise and delight, the second connected squarely with his left cheek.

His head jerked back upon impact. And I started to hear something fracturing—a sound like a sidewalk getting destroyed in a rockslide. Which was horrifying. Especially when I started to feel tiny, alabaster pieces of his face crumble away beneath my fingers, like the stones on the ceiling had.

Vampire skin could… crumble like rock too?

I yanked back my hand, suffused with horror. I was halfway sure I was mistaken. There was no way I could have broken Caius' face. But sure enough, a tiny spiderweb of fractures, like cracks in concrete, decorated his cheek.

I stood back in shock, staring dumbly at the damage, a moment too long. Caius was only aesthetically damaged—I hadn't really impaired his ability to fight. And he was livid.

So, while I stood frozen with a mortified expression, Caius retaliated. A powerful fist of his own shot out…

…and broke off my jaw.

There was a deafening crack as my face split, from ear to ear, along a line that ran between my lips. Then I watched, disbelieving and terrified, as the lower half of my face disconnected, and clattered to the floor.

Automatically, one hand flew up to feel the ragged, geode-like edges of my injury. And, while my fingers skittered, fearfully over the hard, jagged ridges under my cheeks, I fell to my knees, and the other hand sailed out towards my detached jaw. Scooped it up off the plastic mat. And cradled it to my chest.

I wasn't really sure what to do next. Would my jaw reattach? I wondered, as I knelt on the plastic padded floor, my face throbbing with a pain similar to what I'd felt when I'd scratched open my shoulder with Alice's diamond soap. Only a thousand times worse.

I looked up just in time to see the broken edges of Caius' cheek seal themselves back together seamlessly, returning to a flawless marble surface. When I saw this, I had a fleeting realization that it was possible. That I wasn't Humpty Dumpty. That I might be able to put myself back together again.

But before I could even think about making an attempt, Caius was attacking again. And since I was holding my jaw to my chest with both hands, I had no way to defend.

I felt ten, powerful fingers fasten securely around one of my wrists. They hauled me forcibly to my feet, earning a frightened yelp from me—especially as I had to juggle my detached jaw precariously in only one hand now. Then, they contracted, dangerously tight, making my own, marble-like flesh begin to crack.

I cried out in pain. He was breaking my arm. On purpose.

And it hurt.

I teetered and trembled as Caius held me upright, bits of porcelain flesh flaking off under his two-handed grip. And had I still been human, the way Caius was glaring at me—like I'd murdered his father, or something—would have made my heart stop beating. I felt like an ant cowering beneath a gardener's boot.

And it was in that moment, as Caius twisted my arm back, cracking it even more, when I reluctantly realized what I had to do.

Initially, I tried to deny it. I struggled to wriggle free from my tightening prison, much like Vera had attempted under similar circumstances. I was unwilling to lose my winning streak so quickly.

But the longer I struggled, the closer Caius' lips hovered toward my neck. The wider his mouth split. The stronger I could smell his venom. The better I could see the way it glistened in thick, rivulets on his razor-sharp teeth. The closer those teeth inched to my vulnerable throat, ready to snap. Ready to tear into my skin….

Suddenly, I conceded that my pride was totally irrelevant. If I didn't say anything, Caius was going to rend my head from my shoulders. He'd already proven himself more than willing to tear off a part of my face.

So, with a heavy heart, I arched my head upwards so that all could hear my plea. And cried at the top of my lungs.

"PIETA!"

Or at least, I tried to. It came out kind of garbled with only half of my mouth to form the word.

But to my momentous relief, Caius seemed to understand all the same. Instantly the crushing sensation enveloping my wrist vanished. And Caius staggered back, wearing his usual, coldly aloof expression, to survey the damage.

He didn't show a single sign—not even a fleeting one—of remorse. In fact, if I was reading him correctly, he still looked upset about the long-gone damage I'd dealt to his face. But he did seem to think I could use some help putting myself back together.

"Here," he barked, gesturing sharply for me to hand over my detached jaw. "Allow me."

I handed it to him without question. And hoped I wasn't making a terrible mistake.

I really didn't want to go walking around with only half a face for the rest of my immortal life. I mean… maybe I could convince Vera to help me grow it back. But I didn't want to take my chances with her if I didn't have to. She still held a huge grudge against Carlisle. And I was guilty by association.

"Hold still," Caius instructed.

And it was only then, that I realized I'd been shaking.

I tried to school my body into stillness. But it wasn't working. I was in shock, I realized. Everything had happened so fast during our fight, even my super-brain hadn't really had time to process. And now that the immediate danger was gone, it was freaking out.

Caius could have killed me. I could have died. He tore me apart so easily… If I hadn't surrendered when I did…

While I silently lost my mind, Caius discreetly spat a gob of venom into his hands. Then he rubbed it over the jagged edges of my jaw like it was glue, before pressing it up into place.

He only held my jaw up to my face for a brief moment. Then he let go. And to my surprise, and delight, the lower half of my face held in place.

I could feel the fibers reconnecting. It didn't hurt. But it was weird. Like a thousand microscopic ants were crawling over my skin. I rubbed a hand experimentally over my face when it was finished a few moments later. And was surprised at how seamless the reattachment was. It was like my jaw had never been torn off in the first place.

A little later, the fractures trailing down my wrist finished healing too. Then I turned to thank Caius. It was oddly nice of him to see to my healing himself. I'd half-expected him to just leave me there, broken and traumatized, and force Aro or Alice to come to my rescue.

But by the time I whipped around, he was already gone.

And as it turned out, Aro came to my rescue anyway. "Are you alright, my dear?" he asked, flitting to my side an instant later.

"I'm fine," I murmured, a bit stunned that it was true. "Caius helped patch me up."

Aro traced a hand over my cheek, as though he wouldn't believe it without feeling the evidence for himself. He drew back, inhaling in astonishment a moment later. Then patted my shoulder.

"You are very lucky," he breathed, still marveling. "Caius does not usually treat those who manage to injure him so nicely."

My eyes bulged as I came to a sudden realization. "He ripped off my jaw because I punched his face?"

That hardly seemed like proportionate retribution. But this was Caius, after all. The same man who had ordered the extinction of an entire race because he'd lost an arm to one of them.

Aro smiled, despite himself at my comment. Then, thankfully, decided to explain.

"I forgot to mention this before, but we usually refrain from doing unnecessary damage if we can. It is not against the rules, and you are a newborn, so its somewhat expected that you will do more physical damage than is needed," he added before I could get indignant about him not saying so earlier. "But when you broke his face, well that escalated things. And he retaliated in kind."

I quirked an eyebrow. "Is he not supposed to do that?"

"Caius' retaliation is not surprising. Not for him, at least," Aro revealed, confirming my suspicions. "I am however, surprised that he helped you heal. Perhaps you've impressed him?"

I jolted at this. "Impressed him?"

Aro tapped his chin ponderously. "Yes. You see, the only person Caius ever loses to is Jane. He has developed strategies to best all the other gifts—even Alice's. But even after all these centuries, he has never managed to gain the upper hand over Jane. However, today you were able to beat her. And I believe, though I will want to confirm through my gift, of course, that you have gained his respect."

I sucked in a breath. I trusted Aro's judgement, even without the use of his powers. But I wasn't so sure how I felt about that.

"Is that a good thing?"

Aro nodded enthusiastically. "A very good thing. It is quite difficult to earn his respect, I assure you. Especially so quickly. But he is fiercely protective of those he respects. So, you will not have to worry about anyone harming you here. Crossing Caius, outside of these walls, is almost tantamount to a real death sentence. At the very least, he will make you sorely regret it."

I gulped. I could believe that.

"But enough talk," Aro said, waving a dismissive hand. "Let's get you ready for the next round, shall we?"

…

I fought thirty-six more rounds after that. Until I'd been paired with every person in the room at least once. Some I won. Most I lost. Though none quite as spectacularly as my defeat against Caius. In these other rounds, I usually stood at least half a chance. Only Alice came close, using her powers to defeat me nearly just as quickly as the snowy-haired ancient had.

But thankfully, neither she, nor any of the others who defeated me saw the need to fracture my body. Of course, it helped that I was extra careful to not fracture theirs first.

My main weakness, of course, was my lack of formal fighting training.

Against the members of the guard who relied most heavily on their powers—and who had mental powers I was immune to—I did alright. Anything that tried to alter or read my thoughts couldn't penetrate my shield. Which meant Demetri couldn't track me. Afton's invisibility illusion had no effect on me. And even Alec's gift, physical as it seemed, couldn't numb me. Couldn't force my brain to stop transmitting sensory signals. Instead, it just swirled around my head, dark and scary, but ultimately impotent—allowing me to take Alec down rather easily when he thought I was incapacitated.

But against everyone else—those with physical gifts, Alice (whose power was neither physical nor mental but some elusive third category), and especially those with centuries of experience fighting wild, untrained newborns like me—I was hopeless. My dodging was still erratic. I kept overshooting, which turned out to be an excellent way to give my opponent an opening. And I even broke my thumb off once, trying to punch Santiago in the stomach.

I resolved not to try that again. It hadn't been fun at all to have to grope around on the floor after the match to find it.

Sooner than I thought, however, night fell. And it was time for Aro, Marcus and Caius to go with Alice to help compile her list of potential suspects.

The three who were in the sparring room each gave me a short acknowledgement before they left—whether it was an actual goodbye, a little, perky wave, or a tiny, almost imperceptible nod. Then, just before they all disappeared out the huge double doors back into the hallway, Aro turned and instructed Renata to stay behind with a handful of guards of her choosing to help me test the limits of my shield.

She agreed automatically. And to my immense relief, her animosity towards me from before seemed to have evaporated in the intervening hours.

But as we got down to business it became increasingly clear that neither of us really knew what to do. She had me practice moving my shield away from me the way I had in the turret room four days ago. Though this time it was Afton's power that was being allowed to work on me, rather than Titania's and Lucretia's.

But that quickly got boring. Moving my shield around was a piece of cake now—as easy as blinking or breathing. And Afton's invisibility left a lot to be desired. Even when the illusion was allowed to penetrate my defenses, I could still see a faint, shimmering, person-shaped outline that gave away his position.

After a half hour we decided to call it quits. Perhaps another day, Aro would have better instructions for us. Something else we could try.

Renata and I sure didn't have any original ideas.

As I prepared to leave, Renata caught me gently by the sleeve. And I stopped to hear her out.

"I just wanted to say I am sorry for how I reacted when you defeated me," she apologized in a timid voice. "It was never my intention to make you feel unwelcome. It has simply been a long time since I have been defeated by a newborn. But really, I should thank you. You have highlighted a weakness I have. Something I need to improve. Something I can improve, now that I know about it."

I blinked at her, dumbfounded for a moment. Then I smiled sheepishly. "Uh, no problem."

Renata smiled back. And I felt a lot better as I left the sparring room.

Maybe everyone I defeated today didn't have to be my enemy.

…

Heidi taught me Italian next in another cramped little room like the one Marcus had taught me history in. It was surprisingly easy, since I memorized new vocabulary instantly. She basically just handed me an English to Italian dictionary and had me read it. I would occasionally ask about pronunciation. And she would repeat the unfamiliar sounds with me until I got it right.

After an hour, I was almost fluent enough to be conversational at a kindergarten level. And that was when Alice came by to pick me up.

"Ready to get changed?" Alice asked brightly, gesturing to the torn-up boot and ripped jeans I was still wearing from earlier.

I shrugged. It didn't really bother me. But if Alice thought it was important, I would play along.

I set down the English to Italian dictionary. Then gave Heidi a cordial wave, before I followed Alice, supernaturally fast, out the door. We took a path that looked unusually familiar—for how monotonous the cinnamon brown brick walls were around here—up to my bedroom. And then, Alice delicately helped me get changed out of my clothes, so I wouldn't rip them any further.

"So," Alice said, as she tugged my black pants down my legs. "How did your first day go?"

I made a noncommittal gesture. "Okay, I guess. But I'm a little worried."

"About what?"

Alice began undoing the buttons on my frilly white blouse next. And I tried very hard not to feel self-conscious about it. It wasn't like I had anything she hadn't seen before.

"You're going to think it's silly," I protested. "We've got a newborn army that's going to threaten our exposure looming in our sights and I'm here worried about…" I trailed off. Then, once Alice had shrugged my shirt off completely, I crossed my arms over my bra. "Like I said, you're going to think it's stupid."

Alice pouted. "I'm not. I promise."

I groaned. Of course, she would actually know.

"Fine," I relented as Alice set down my shirt next to my pants and boots, and flitted over to the closet to pick out another outfit, while I sat on the bed in my underwear. "I'm worried that I won't make any friends."

"I'm your friend," Alice pointed out as she ran her finger speculatively down a long row of jeans.

I rolled my eyes. "Of course. But I'm not really going to… you know… fit in very well if you're my only connection here."

I cringed. It sounded like I was talking about high school again. Not an austere organization like the Volturi. But my concerns here in Volterra were surprisingly the same as they were back in Forks. Even though I was a fundamentally introverted person, I didn't want to have enemies.

"Aro seems to like you," Alice added, as she selected a pair of light grey jeans with extra zippers running across the front pockets, and motorcycle-style patches on the knees.

I rolled my eyes again. "Only because he thinks I'm useful."

Alice shrugged, like that was all anyone could expect from him. Then flitted back over to my side and began easing the grey motorcycle jeans up my legs. I helped her as much as I could. But I didn't dare touch the denim myself, knowing I would shred it instantly beneath my unpracticed fingers.

"You impressed Caius today," Alice pointed out, as she rushed back to the closet to pick out a shirt.

I blinked, once, twice. When had she heard about that? Or had she seen it?

Then, while I struggled to figure it out, suddenly, unbidden, a murky human memory of the formidable man resurfaced. I remembered what he'd looked like in the turret room when he fed. How savage he'd been about the entire process. And how, when it was finished, his lips, spattered in blood, had curled with sadistic glee.

And suddenly I was reminded of the fact that I would have to join him next month. It had been such a long day, and there had been so much to distract me that I had forgotten all about that. Forgotten about the monster I had become. About the man I'd killed. About how inevitable it was that I would kill again.

I felt my stomach churn with unease. And when Alice came back, holding a black, alpaca wool sweater, she didn't miss it. Her face turned sympathetic as she helped me into it. And she patted my shoulder.

"I know it seems impossible now. But you'll adjust," Alice assured me. "Just give it a little time."