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CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO: SUSPICION

…

The Volturi do not break rules.

Besides it's much to sloppy.

This person, this threat—they have no idea what they're doing.

A first-timer, I'd swear to it.

I cannot believe the Volturi are involved.

- Jasper, Eclipse, Chapter 13

…

Alice and I walked swiftly to the conference room. She spread the news to any guard members we met along the way that Aro and Jasper were coming back. And they, I guess, told everyone they ran into. So, it was only a matter of two or three minutes before all of the members of the Volturi guard and family were congregated in the rectangular room.

We were lined up according to the darkness of our cloaks in the same, rigid formation we'd taken during my induction. A formation I'd been trained to stand in well. Even if it still rubbed me the wrong way.

I'd never liked any social arrangement that pitted people against each other. Which made the whole hierarchal structure uncomfortable. But if especially bothered me that Alec and Jane stood to my left, ahead of me in the hierarchy. And Chelsea stood to my right, ranking just below me.

I didn't care about Aro's rankings themselves. He could have put me behind Afton for all I cared. But I wasn't too fond of being next to three vampires who didn't like me that much.

I had enough to deal with as it was, without worrying about incurring the wrath of three powerful vampires. And the oppressive silence that had settled over the front row while we waited for Jasper and Aro to come back was not helping matters.

It only seemed to make Chelsea's fists ball tighter at her sides. And make Jane's tiny body quake with more fury. And even Alec, who normally kept his cool, wore a thin wrinkle of concern across his adolescent forehead.

I swallowed when I saw it. Had I done something to upset him too? I mean, other than bother his sister?

I couldn't be sure. As hard as I tried to keep up with all of the complicated etiquette around here, I knew I'd probably slipped up around him a few times. All the rigid formalities went against my instincts.

But as we stood perfectly still, and the next rows filed into place behind us, I couldn't wait for a distraction. Anything to take Jane, Alec and Chelsea's minds off me.

Luckily, we didn't have to wait long. As soon as the last vampire, Afton, slunk into place, and the whispering sound of his fluttering cloak fell silent as it stilled, we all heard another sound. Two pairs of footsteps heading our direction.

Aro's scent was automatically recognizable—pine and cinnamon. And Jasper's, having smelt it once before was also easy to pick out—eucalyptus and saffron. There was no one else with them. And that fact made me sigh with relief.

I wasn't sure I could handle the anxiety of another surprise visitor in one day.

The footsteps swelled louder, until they were just outside the two large, gilt doors that led into this room. Then we heard someone grab the large gold rings that served as door handles. And we all watched closely when that same someone dramatically swung them open.

It was Aro who floated into the room first. He had donned modern clothes again—an expensive Italian suit, and polished leather dress shoes. I guess he only wore robes when he was staying inside the fortress. Though, he'd kept on his void-black cloak. And, of course, the silvery, v-shaped pendant that represented his organization.

Jasper came in next, striding gracefully, only a few feet behind the ancient vampire. And though he hadn't changed his clothes—he was still wearing a dark turtleneck sweater, cowboy boots, and jeans—he looked quite different as well. The dark circles underneath his eyes were completely gone. His skin had lost its sickly green tinge. His cheeks were flushed ever so slightly pink. And his irises were a vivid, startling crimson.

I stared at his eyes for a long moment. It was weird seeing him with that color after so many months of either black or gold. So weird that I almost didn't notice what he was holding.

As he passed one of the twenty or so wrought iron candelabras lining the conference room walls, the orange light glinted off something metallic draped over his shoulder. And my eyes automatically flicked to examine it.

It was a long coil of heavy metal chain nearly as thick around as Jasper. I wasn't sure what it was made of—I didn't know my alloys very well. But it was long enough to drag for several feet on the floor behind him, clanking noisily. And it looked very sturdy. Like something that might be used to anchor an aircraft carrier.

I spent another moment scrutinizing the chain, wondering what it was for. But it wasn't even the most surprising thing. I nearly gasped when I saw Jasper's expression. Though he looked healthier, he certainly didn't look happier.

His expression was one of cavernous gloom. I guessed the murders he'd committed today were taking their toll.

I only had a twenty-eighth of a second to sympathize with his pain, though. Because just then Alice spoke. And her bright, cheery voice broke me out of the spell.

"Jasper!" Alice called, giving him a happy little wave. "You look healthier."

Jasper did not respond in kind. Instead, he gave her only the briefest of glances, before looking pointedly at the floor, and gritting his teeth.

I winced. That probably wasn't a good sign.

Alice recoiled like Jasper had suddenly doused her in scalding water. Then her painted lips parted, ready to say something—I guessed something somewhat confrontationally, based on the arch of her inky eyebrows.

But before she could get out a single word, Aro quickly raised both of his hands in a halting gesture. At once, Alice's lips obediently snapped shut. Though she crossed her arms over her chest and scowled like Caius sometimes did when Aro didn't let him have his way.

It was something I might have found humorous under other circumstances. But right now, Alice's icy expression only made me more anxious. Combined with her strange behavior towards Jasper lately, and the suspicions Corin had raised in me, it didn't bode well.

Alice couldn't really suspect Jasper, could she?

He hadn't met her until after she'd already seen the vision of the upcoming calamity. So, given that he would have had no knowledge of her powers until then, he was an extremely unlikely candidate.

But if that wasn't the reason for their coldness towards each other, then what was?

I knew that the disagreements they had over their diets couldn't account for all of it.

"Dearest Alice," Aro murmured softly, forcing my attention back to him. "Now is not the time. Surely you ought to know what Jasper has found. And what we must discuss?"

Alice nodded.

Aro nodded back, looking pleased. Then he broke away from Jasper's side, floated over to the three thrones at the head of the room, and took a seat between his brothers.

Once Aro was seated, his bright eyes flicked over toward the back of the room. His eyes roved over Afton and a few of the other lower ranking guards, before he honed back in on Jasper, who still lingered behind our formation.

"Dear Jasper, if you would not mind showing us what you found while passing through Seattle?" Aro said, beckoning him forward.

Jasper said nothing. But walked quickly past the five rows of black cloaks, dragging the heavy chain with him. Then he crossed in front of our lineup, until he was standing right in front of Aro's throne.

There he came to a sudden stop. And dropped the heavy chain.

It rattled loudly when it hit the floor. And I swore I heard several of the stones crack under the immense weight and pressure.

Aro winced slightly. "Carefully, now," he cautioned. "I do hate having to call in so many repairs."

The tone of Aro's voice clearly suggested he was angling for an apology. But Jasper didn't look apologetic in the slightest. His face remained hard and impassive. So, after a second, Aro sighed and decided to drop it.

"But that is neither here nor there. Do any of you understand what this is?" he asked, pointing towards the pile of coiled metal.

Every member of the guard—including me—shook their heads. I wasn't sure if they all really had no idea or not. Perhaps some did know, and were simply keeping that knowledge to themselves. But I knew I had no clue why Jasper had lugged the massive thing here.

Aro raised a single eyebrow. "None of you?"

He seemed genuinely shocked. And maybe a little hurt.

"None of you recall my latest project? What I have been laboring this last century with our contractors to produce?"

Suddenly, I did recall. Marcus' words on the subject poured into my head.

I believe Aro has been working with them for the last century on making metal sturdy enough to withstand our prodigious strength. He's hoping to replace the old grates in the sewer entrances with something a lot more likely to keep our enemies out. As well as perhaps make cages or chains that could restrain our kind. I have not seen the results myself. But I have heard that the prototypes are performing quite nicely.

And I went stiff with shock. Could this be one of his prototypes?

I decided to ask.

"Did your—um, our—" I corrected, remembering I was a part of the Volturi now, "—private contractors make that?"

Aro nodded. "Yes, Isabella, you are correct," he praised, beaming. But his pleasant expression faded quickly. "Though it is strange that our newest member knows this, and no one else," he said with an accusatorial edge. "I would have thought any of the rest of you to be much more likely to remember."

The guard did not miss that Aro was implying. That their unwillingness to speak up when there was no possible way they could have forgotten, was suspicious.

But every face, including Alice's, remained stony; unanimated. No one was going to incriminate themselves further by coming to their own defense.

While the guard betrayed nothing with their expressions, Aro reached out to his right suddenly. He held his palm facing upward, out toward Marcus. And I realized instantly what he wanted.

Marcus realized instantly as well. Though he moved to comply with deliberate sluggishness. I guessed, to convey his reluctance.

When their hands finally connected—a clash of ashy brown on pale almond—the room was absolutely silent. Except for the soft hiss of flickering flame coming from the candles surrounding us. And the tiny sound of Aro's eyelids fluttering closed.

And it remained silent, even when Aro suddenly lifted his head. He didn't say anything after getting up to speed with Marcus' thoughts. And he did not let go of Marcus' hand right away. Instead, holding it fast, he scanned the rows of cloaks in front of him.

As Aro's eyes roved coldly over each of us, searching and judging, I couldn't help but think that Corin was right. That he suspected there was a traitor in our midst who had stolen both the chain, and was responsible for the chaotic plot to bring about vampire extinction.

When Aro's eyes landed on me, I tensed automatically, even though I knew I had nothing to fear. I wasn't a traitor. But there was a hint of steel in his eyes now that he'd seen Marcus' thoughts that made me terrified about what he might say, regardless.

After making his silent judgment—a judgement I hoped was in agreement with my innocence—Aro released Marcus' hand suddenly. And hummed, finally breaking the tension.

"Interesting."

I wasn't sure what Aro had seen. But I wasn't alone in that.

Only Alice might have some idea. And even then, she would be limited to a vague impression, based on the consequences. She couldn't read minds.

Though it was hardly necessary, I cleared my throat to grab everyone's attention. It worked a little too well, causing all eyes in the room to shoot toward me. But I tried not to let my anxiety get the best of me, and remember to use my manners as I spoke.

"I don't mean to be rude, but if you don't mind me asking, um, what happened while you were out?"

Aro smiled genially. "Not at all. Of course, nothing noteworthy really occurred," he supplied—though the deeply depressed look on Jasper's face said otherwise. "Though, I suppose a quick synopsis would not hurt."

Without warning, Aro turned to Jasper and held out a hand toward the younger vampire. "Jasper, why don't you tell the story?"

Jasper made a face. He obviously didn't like being ordered around. But without any further protest, he complied.

"We went to Florence to hunt about a half hour ago," he began, his voice curt and stiff.

"It's the middle of the day, so of course we had to be discreet. I would have waited until nightfall. But my thirst…" he scratched at his throat, just recalling how bad it had been. "…was severe. So, we went downtown to the thickest part of the city, keeping to the shadows, the places where hapless, young, single, tourists often go missing anyway…"

Jasper trailed off, gritting his teeth again and bowing his head. He obviously hated that he'd done that. That he'd hidden with Aro in the shadows and waited to pounce. And that he'd been so thirsty, he'd been compelled to kill more innocent people.

Seeing how wild he'd been before, I imagined Aro had been the one to decide who lived and who died. That he'd restrained the younger vampire in some dark alley until he saw someone strolling past who he thought the world would hardly miss. Then, when they were close enough, he'd let Jasper loose.

I felt a brief flash of terror. How would that look to the victim?

Would they see a flash of something glittering and dangerous, before they were cruelly pried away from everything? Would they have the wherewithal to scream? Did Aro have to snap their necks so they didn't make any noise? Did anyone notice Jasper's skin refracting in the light before his victim was dragged back into the darkness? Did anyone see?

I figured nothing had gotten too out of control. Aro didn't have even a single hair out of place. And his clothes were equally immaculate—nothing to suggest he'd grappled with any unintended witnesses.

But I still wondered.

As I thought it through, Jasper continued with his tale. "I was very thirsty. With Aro's assistance, I took four more victims."

I stiffened. Four?

My mind had conjured a thousand different pictures of the two men hunting in the city. But this new number forced me to change them. One or two bodies were easily dealt with. Especially with a little gasoline and lighter to conceal the most incriminating evidence. But four?

How had they gotten rid of them all? Thrown them into a nearby river?

I frowned. I realized suddenly, I was being a bit callous, obsessing over the logistics. So, I forced myself to think again, of the seven who'd died. And silently mourned them.

"We were quick," Jasper informed us in a small voice.

I felt a little better hearing that. If there was any consolation for Jasper's human victims, it was that they hadn't suffered for very long. Jasper drank quicker than any other vampire I'd ever seen. And had a tendency to be so rough with his victims that they were dead on impact.

I imagined it was easier on Jasper's empathetic powers that way. When their horror and pain only lasted a second.

"When I was finished, I was a little…" Jasper gestured to his chin, "…dirty. So, we snuck inside an empty public restroom to clean up."

"Did anyone see you?" I asked. Then, seeing everyone's eyes narrowing at me, for interrupting, I added. "Sorry, I just—"

"Your concern for our secrecy is admirable, Isabella," Aro cut in. "But I assure you we took every reasonable precaution. And, even if we were not so careful, and a human did see us before we took care of the mess, it would have looked like young Jasper had a simple nosebleed," he explained. "You see, he might have been a bit… enthusiastic with his prey. But he is not an unpracticed newborn."

I nodded, accepting. Aro was right. Vampires did become less sloppy eaters with age. At this point, most of the rest of the guard only left a few errant drops here and there. And Aro didn't waste at all.

So, Jasper, having been a vampire for at least as long as Alice had, if not longer, was more than capable of mitigating his messes. Even when he was savagely thirsty.

But as Aro and I went over this, Jasper flinched. I guessed he didn't like that we were rehashing all the logistical details. The cold, practical side of his kills.

"When we exited the men's room," Jasper went on, trying not to look as glum as he obviously felt, "Aro and I returned, and I fetched this chain from the luggage I brought here with me."

"Luggage?" Vera blurted out suddenly, her voice sharp with suspicion. "And what other things did you bring with you, hmm?"

"Vera," Aro cautioned.

"But Master, we have no proof that he isn't still Carlisle's spy!" the woman complained, jabbing an accusatory finger at Jasper.

"Other than the confirmation I have received from his own thoughts?" Aro challenged.

Vera came up short, realizing her mistake. Her face turned sour as she was forced to concede her master had a point. Then she shut her mouth without any further complaints.

Jasper went on. "When I first arrived here in Volterra, I didn't see any reason to bring my belongings into your…" he struggled to find the appropriate words, "…feeding chamber," he settled on. Which was an apt description of the turret room, if a bit crude. "So, I left them with your receptionist in th—"

Now it was Alice's turn to interrupt. "The receptionist?" she blurted out. "You let yourself near Gianna when you were that thirsty?"

She winced. And I swallowed as I pictured Gianna, in all her beauty and refinery, rising from her mahogany desk to offer a cordial greeting. Or maybe politely asking if Jasper had an appointment. Only to be abruptly seized, and to have her neck torn into savagely with Jasper's razor-sharp teeth.

It wasn't like she could fight him off….

"I didn't hurt her," Jasper assured us quickly. "I…" He fidgeted uncomfortably. "I wanted to." he clarified, upon seeing everyone's incredulous looks. "Very badly. I kept imagining all the ways I could kill her." Jasper shuddered. "But I didn't."

Jasper's voice was full of self-loathing, and he bowed his head in shame. But I was having a hard time believing his emotions were founded. I was impressed that he had ultimately restrained himself. With how ravenous he looked, I found it doubtful that Jasper could curb his own instincts like that.

But perhaps I was underestimating him.

Of course, Alice looked just as shocked as me. She shook her head in complete disbelief. "What were you thinking, Jasper?"

"Your master wouldn't like it if I killed one of his underlings without his permission," he mumbled derisively through gritted teeth. Then he threw a fleeting, caustic glance towards Aro.

I glanced at him too, wondering what the older vampire would make of this. But Aro, for his part seemed amused by Jasper's anger, rather than perturbed.

"That's not what I meant," Alice said with a tight-lipped frown. "I meant how could you resist? I saw you make the decision not to harm her. And I knew you wouldn't. But how could you risk that? Your eyes were black!"

Jasper swallowed. "It wasn't easy. Not by any means," he admitted guiltily. "But after the flight—after spending nineteen hours packed in with hundreds of humans in an air-tight metal tube, forcing myself not to breathe so I wouldn't be overwhelmed by their scents, but still hearing all that blood pulsing, and feeling the heat of so many bodies, knowing that it would be so easy to just lean over the person sitting beside me and—"

Jasper's teeth clicked together sharply. Then he shook himself out of the memory and exhaled, "Nothing could be harder than that."

I grimaced. Even fully sated, Jasper's tale had made a little heat flare up in my throat. Being packed in an airplane with so many humans for so long….

I could easily understand the temptation.

While I shuddered in sympathetic horror, Jasper suddenly remembered something. He frowned as it crossed his mind. And sighed, realizing he had to amend his story.

"Except resisting Edward's bloodlust for you," Jasper added, giving me an apologetic look. "Even with Carlisle's help, and the emotions being secondhand, his need to drink your blood was too strong. I nearly killed you." He pursed his lips, displeased with himself. "I'm still very sorry about that, by the way."

I blinked, astonished. "You don't need to apologize. I understand now why it was so difficult for you. I probably would have done the same, had I been in your shoes."

I probably would have been worse, even, I thought, but didn't add. There was no need to turn this into some kind of morbid contest.

The corner of Jasper's lip twitched into what was almost a wry smile. Then there was a beat of silence, before Aro suggested we get back to business.

"Now, if you would allow Jasper to finish his story without any further interruptions…?"

Alice nodded fiercely. And gestured for Jasper to keep going.

Jasper pursed his lips into a fine line. Then, after receiving a nod from Aro, he concluded his story.

"After I retrieved the chain from my luggage, I brought it here. And now you know everything. Any questions?"

He obviously hadn't been expecting anyone to respond. But as soon as Jasper was finished, Alec piped up.

"Do the Cullens have any connection to this chain?" he asked, his adolescent voice acrid with mistrust.

Jasper leapt to his family's defense instantly. "Of course, not!"

Alec narrowed his eyes, still not quite buying it. But his sister was quick to accept it, and instead, moved right on to the next accusation.

"And how did you know it was ours?" Jane demanded, her high, girlish voice cold with suspicion.

She had a point. It was highly suspicious for Jasper to have just happened upon this chain and immediately known who it belonged to.

But before any of us could speculate about Jasper's loyalties, Aro reached down and turned over the chain so we could all see the Volturi insignia emblazoned on one of the thick metal links.

I nodded, understanding. So that's how Jasper knew who to give it too.

Aro straightened and looked Jasper directly in the eyes. "I am glad you brought this to me. And, before anyone suggests it," he cut in, raising a forbidding hand. "I do not suspect he had anything to do with its displacement from our testing facilities."

Jane, who'd opened her mouth half-way in preparation to speak, snapped it shut and pouted. She'd clearly been wanting to label him as the culprit. Probably because she knew it would hurt Alice. She was kind of petty like that.

"Where was the chain found?" Jane demanded in an eerie monotone, staring coldly at Jasper.

He crossed his arms, obviously irritated with her interrogation. But decided to oblige her anyway. "I found it abandoned in an alley near the Seattle airport. The insignia caught my eye," he explained. "And I was already headed this way anyway to join you. So, I decided to bring it along. It was a coincidence, nothing more."

"A rather convenient coincidence…" Alec muttered to himself.

"What was it doing in that alley?" Jane demanded next.

Jasper's eyebrows knit together in confusion and frustration. "I don't have the faintest clue," he admitted. "Though the timing is suspicious. Alice?"

"I didn't see who left it there," she supplied, sighing. "I wasn't watching for anything like that. But I have seen it before, in my visions. And I know our culprit—whoever they are—touched it."

"How unfortunate that you did not see their face," Aro interjected sadly.

And I agreed, that would make this all a lot easier.

Aro tapped his chin in thought. "But, since you are certain they did touch it, then, perhaps—" he wheeled to face Caius suddenly. "—your son could help us?"

Caius' crimson eyes flared wide with shock. "My son?"

A ripple of astonishment passed through the guard immediately. And several members, despite their efforts to remain impassive, even gasped. I took that, combined with the look of angry surprise on Caius' face to mean the two weren't on the best of terms. And at once my curiosity was piqued.

What was their story?

I knew Caius' son, like Aro's elder daughter, Valentina, had decided to leave the coven after reaching adulthood. But I'd never been given a real reason why in his case. And I was starting to doubt, based on the tinge of betrayal creeping in Caius' furious expression, that it was simply a matter of a child wanting to go their own way.

"Theodore, yes," Aro clarified casually, like he was discussing an old friend, not someone who was apparently a controversial figure. "I figure he may be able to help us locate the last person who touched the chains before Jasper found them. And—if they are not the same person—whoever stole them from our possession."

Confused, I reached behind Alec and Jane to tap Alice on the shoulder. She whipped around to face me immediately.

"Why do they want to talk to Theodore?"

I didn't bother whispering. I knew the twins would hear me anyway.

Alice, realizing I didn't know this part of Volturi history, decided to fill me in. "Theodore might be able to help us. He has a talent for knowing where things come from," she explained. "He can see every person who has touched that item and what they did with it. Object history, I think Aro calls it."

My eyes widened in surprise. Caius' son had a vampire talent? And such a neat one, too?

Suddenly, I felt like I might understand some of Caius' ire with his son. It was kind of an open secret that Caius resented gifted vampires for having something he did not. And it also seemed to be the case that gifts were somewhat genetic, as evidenced by Renata and Makenna's similar powers, and more directly, Titania and Lucretia's telepathic talents that closely mirrored their father's. So, for fate to make the powers in Caius' family skip over him, but manifest in his son…

…Well, that had to feel terribly unfair.

Of course, there was always the possibility Theodore had inherited his powers from his mother's side instead. It was difficult to tell where he'd gotten such a thing when Athenodora was just as talentless as Caius. But either way, Caius had to feel somewhat cheated.

Caius glowered. "You know my son will resent you sending Demetri after him, Aro,"

Aro shrugged. "Most likely," he agreed. "However, his help may prove necessary. And, with this calamity ahead of us, now is hardly the time to be concerned with a few hurt feelings."

"Is that the next step, then, Master?" Renata asked nervously. "To accompany you and the other Masters on a journey to locate Master Caius' son?"

Aro smiled briefly toward Renata, before shaking his head. "Demetri does not need us to escort him. And besides, I am afraid we have a few things that need to be set in order first before we all leave Volterra. The first of which is the list of suspects dear Alice asked me to compile a month prior. A list of those I suspect could be the enemy in Alice's vision."

Renata nodded, understanding. Then, suddenly, Aro took out a scroll of parchment from an unseen pocket inside his cloak, and unfurled it.

From what he'd told me before, about his plan to whittle down the list of potential culprits, I'd expected the paper to be rather short. But to my astonishment, it rolled out of his lap, onto the floor, and a few feet out in front of him.

"Is it finally finished?" Alice asked, scrutinizing the parchment dubiously. She too, seemed to think it was too long.

Aro frowned. "No. Caius and I persist in writing new drafts. He quibbles with me on the details."

Caius leaned over in his throne and squinted at the list. "Neither the Romanians nor the Egyptians are on this list."

Aro heaved an exasperated sigh, as though they'd been over this a thousand times. "The Romanians have not come anywhere near Italy in the last two centuries, Caius. True, it is possible that they could have heard of Alice's power through other channels, and decided to act. But they would have had fifteen-hundred years to plan their counterattack. And this chaos does not strike me as a coldly-calculated scheme of revenge. It is a temper tantrum."

Caius scowled, but didn't argue. Instead, he pressed his other point. "And the Egyptians?"

"Amun may be incompetent, but he is too much of a coward to even consider defying me."

Caius raised a snowy eyebrow, to indicate that he disagreed. But after exchanging a few pointed looks with Aro, at last he sighed in resignation. "Very well."

At this, Caius pulled out a piece of his own parchment, equally long, and scratched those names from it. Then he handed it to Aro.

Aro's eyes skimmed down Caius' list. "The Denali clan is listed. Care to explain?"

"Carlisle's so-called 'cousins' in Alaska?" Caius snarled. "Why, I would have thought their poor excuse for a 'diet' spoke for itself?"

Aro frowned. "If anything, it stands as a reason not to put them on here. Why would they create newborns who they know will kill and consume humans?"

Caius grumbled, and scratched them out. "Fine. But your inclusion of Demetri is just as spurious," he muttered, not quite under his breath. Of course, even if it had been, we would have all heard it anyway.

There was a collective gasp.

Aro vehemently shushed Caius. Obviously, we weren't meant to hear that. After Caius rolled his eyes, Aro turned to the rows of bewildered and frightened guards in front of him, wearing a kind, sad, apologetic expression.

"Yes. Some of you are on our lists," he admitted quietly. "Which is why we will not be reading those names aloud," he hissed through his teeth at Caius. "Instead," he offered, turning back to us, "I will call each one of you forward individually, and in private. If you know something, I will find out. And if you try to run, it will be taken as an assumption of guilt. Do you understand?"

The guard straightened up and responded in unison. "Yes, Master."

"Of course, if you are innocent, you have nothing to fear," Aro promised.

Most of the guard relaxed immediately after that. Of course, Aro was right. His powers meant no one was going to be falsely accused. But, despite this assurance, the two teenage vampires to my right remained stiff with misgiving. Which I found highly suspicious.

"Master, what about her?" Jane bit out, pointing at me. "You can't read her thoughts! How do you know she isn't a traitor?"

Suddenly, everyone's eyes were boring suspicious holes into me.

I suffused with panic. They really couldn't think this was going to be my doing, could they? Wasn't I supposed to be the one to save them all from this unknown enemy? Would they really turn on me so quickly?

Instinctively, I started to hyperventilate. And Jane, mistaking my apprehension for guilt, balled her tiny white hands into fists, and turned to face me. I wasn't sure if she planned to use her powers, or simply punch me in the face. But either way, I wasn't eager to find out.

Luckily, before she could do anything, Aro raised two forbidding hands. "Jane, my dear. Calm yourself," he urged, lowering his hands slowly. "This plot was set in motion before she was born," he reminded everyone. "She is not a suspect."

Jane relaxed marginally. And turned away from me. But her cherubic face was still warped with malcontent. "Am I a suspect, Master?" she implored to know.

Aro's face was utterly impassive. "That remains to be seen," was all he said.

Jane stiffened again. Then hung her head in acute embarrassment.

There was a lot of murmuring after that. If Jane, Aro's most loyal servant wasn't definitively out of the woods, then anyone could be suspect. A few names were thrown around. The most common suspect, to my surprise, was Vera, I guessed, due to her resentment over being experimented on. But several suspected Demetri, since his name had been brought up. And too many seemed to think Alice herself might be responsible for the odd gaps in her visions, despite the fact that her return to the Volturi would make no sense in that light.

Why warn the Volturi at all, if she planned to destroy them?

"Silence!" Caius ordered, after the cacophony amidst the guard reached a fever pitch.

At once, the guard snapped their mouths shut, and faced stoically forward. Caius scrutinized the rows of cloaks in front of him with an icy glare for a few tense moments. Then, at last, he spoke again.

"We will begin the interrogations shortly," he informed us. "But first, we have a new member that needs inducting," he said, pointing toward Jasper.

It was clear from the tone of his voice that Caius wasn't fond of the ceremony. And Jasper, sensing the elder vampire's unease, immediately turned bashful.

"That's… really not necessary," he assured all of us—though mostly Caius. "I already know everyone here."

Caius, for the first time, looked incredibly relieved. In fact, if he wasn't such a stick in the mud he might have felt the urge to thank Jasper for the suggestion.

Of course, either way, Aro wasn't having any of it.

"Nonsense!" he said, waving off Jasper's excuses. "Let's remind him, shall we?"

…

The induction went much like before. Except now I was one of the members explaining their role to Jasper, rather than the one being inducted.

Some of the members gave their explanations in dull monotones this time, a bit exasperated that they had to do this again so soon. And in English again, since Jasper insisted he didn't know a lick of Italian. Others, like Felix and Santiago, were just as excited to boast about their abilities. And I wasn't particularly bored, or excited, but my explanation went smoother this time. I didn't trip over any words, or accidentally forget to use my full name.

When, at last, we were all finished explaining, Jasper stepped forward and explained his own gift again, in a perfunctory, monotone.

"I have the power to both feel and manipulate emotions. Feeling them is not a choice—it's a sense I cannot shut off. But manipulating them is something I have to choose, and which requires much more energy. And even then, I can only affect those emotions so long as I maintain both concentration and proximity."

It was a good description, I thought. And everything seemed lined up to go smoothly after that. But then, when Aro asked Jasper where he thought he should stand, in a shocking display of contempt, Jasper refused to place himself in the lineup.

"You're just going to put me where you want anyway," he claimed, crossing his arms in contempt.

Partially as a result of that offense, I thought, Aro decided to place Jasper in the very last spot in the fourth row. He wasn't quite banished to the very back—Afton stood as the lone member of the fifth row. But he was second to last. And that was rather shocking, given the praise Aro had heaped on Jasper earlier.

Thankfully, Aro didn't leave us guessing his reasons.

"Young Jasper's prior experience fighting newborns is beneficial—less training we will have to give him. His power is also quite interesting, and will prove useful in time, I think," he allowed. "But we already have Chelsea, who is able to perform almost the same functions on a more permanent level. And the toll his power exerts on his body is severe."

"He won't have to drink so much next time," Alice cut in, rising to her mate's defense. "Today he was recovering from decades of insufficiently handled thirst. A blood bag or a slip-up here or there does not a healthy vampire make."

"I know." Aro agreed. "But still, his powers do exact a high price. And his… disobedience does not exactly inspire confidence."

Alice frowned. But made no further comment.

There wasn't much she could really say anyway. Aro was only acting in the best interests of the coven as a whole. Rank, as I'd learned from Aro's etiquette classes, wasn't just a meaningless gauge of how much you sucked up to the Masters. It determined who could boss who around. And, until Jasper displayed a little more loyalty to the Volturi leaders and to the cause, it probably wasn't smart to give him the power to give too many people orders.

When the ceremony was finished, and Jasper was all decked out in his new cloak and pendant, the guard scattered, no longer eager to be in their master's presence when they might be suspects. Or, in Alice's case, too interested in wanting to give Jasper a tour of the fortress, to bother sticking around.

Soon enough, it was just me, and the Volturi family left inside the conference room.

"Isabella, if you would come with me, please?" Aro asked, rising from his throne, and flitting to my side.

I looked at him quizzically. "I thought you said I wasn't a suspect," I said cautiously.

"You are not," Aro reassured me. And the certainty in his voice was comforting. "But there is something I would like you to see," he said, directing me toward another room.

"Okay…" I said uncertainly.

Recalling what he'd said earlier about following instructions from my superiors unless I thought my life was in danger, I followed him without saying any more. But my mind was burgeoning with questions as we left the conference room, and went our way down a little winding cinnamon brick hallway.

Who among the current Volturi did Aro suspect? Were there any former members on that list at all? Or had that just been a distraction, to keep all of us suspecting nothing?

And what is going to happen now that the cat is out of the bag? Is the guard going to start mistrusting each other? Is Chelsea going to be able to keep us in line, when some of us are casting such serious aspersions on each other?

It bothered me that there weren't any satisfactory answers to these questions. That I would just have to wait and see. It made me feel helpless. And I hated feeling helpless.

Eventually, Aro and I wound up in the cramped, closet-like room he'd trained me about etiquette in, before we'd upgraded to running marching drills. And I only became more confused when I saw what was sitting on top of the splintered desk bisecting the room.

It was a little black and white chess set made out of finely crafted marble, with intricated carved little pieces, all lined up and ready to play. They looked freshly polished—not a speck of dust covering any of the pieces—so I knew they were an extremely recent addition.

I scrutinized the pieces, searching for clues for a few seconds, before giving up and looking to Aro for answers.

"What's this all about?"

"Did Alice ever tell you about the chess game she played against Edward once?" Aro inquired.

I stiffened, startled. I hadn't been expecting that.

"Of course," I answered honestly. "I think, among the Cullens it's sort of legendary."

Aro smirked. "Indeed, but I think a similar approach may prove useful as more than mere entertainment."

"Wait. That's how you're going to interrogate your suspects?" I asked. "See if they can outsmart Alice in a chess game?"

It was a good idea in theory. The Volturi were very competitive, and would likely use every tool in their arsenal to try and win. But that was before Caius had let it slip that some of the guard members might be suspects. Now, I couldn't be sure. The Volturi might be eager to win, but they weren't stupid.

"What if they decided to throw the game on purpose?" I asked.

Aro held up his hands, wiggling his fingers. "I will know."

I nodded vigorously. His powers. "Right, of course."

I looked curiously around the cramped room, then, searching for anything which might indicate the time.

"When do we start?"

…

Aro began the interrogations immediately. He started with Demetri—since Caius had made the mistake of mentioning his name out loud. But Demetri wasn't the only one present.

Alice, of course, was needed to prove whether or not Demetri could have circumvented her visions. Aro let me stay and observe, since my innocence was a given. And he also invited Marcus and Caius—the former for his ability to see emotional ties, and the latter for the intimidation factor.

It was a tight fit—six vampires crowded into a room hardly bigger than a broom closet and already cluttered with broken furniture. But somehow, we managed.

Demetri sat across from Alice, in a rickety wooden chair, with the chessboard on the splintered desk between them. Both of them had one hand to play the game with, while the other was held, palm-up for Aro.

Aro stood to the right of the pair, holding Demetri's offered hand in his left, and Alice's in his right. He allowed Marcus to brush his fingers across the top of his wrist. That way he had access to all three minds at once.

While Aro conducted the interrogation, Caius and I did our best to stay out of the way.

Especially once the chess pieces started to fly.

Vampire chess was an impressive thing to behold. While I could easily keep up with their movements now, I was still astonished by how quickly Alice responded to Demetri's moves.

Each time he reached for a white piece; Alice's fingers were already closed around a black one. And while Demetri would occasionally pause for a moment to consider his next movement, Alice never stopped moving. Her free hand would hover near the pieces she needed to counterattack while he strategized, then seize as soon as he made his choice.

The game was very fast. The marble pieces went clack, clack, clack across the board. And had I been human, I might have mistakenly believed that the pair was moving in sync. Or even that Alice was moving ahead of Demetri.

But Alice never technically took her turn before his—since that was against the rules. Instead, her pieces hit their new spots on the board just fractions of a second after his did. Even if she raised them before Demetri executed his moves.

The game didn't last very long. And as it neared its inevitable conclusion, the frustration on Demetri's face grew in the extreme.

"How are you doing this?" he growled, after she decisively took out his queen.

Alice smiled brightly as she set his piece aside. "Easy," she told him. "You're predictable."

Demetri growled again, and made his next move—an adjustment of the position of his king. But Alice, already tracing the edge of a rook, was ready to corner him as soon as his piece settled on the board.

Clack, clack!

"Ha, ha!" Alice jubilantly exclaimed, bounding out of her seat and clapping excitedly. "Checkmate!"

Demetri slumped in his seat, looking defeated. Then, slowly, warily, he turned to face Aro, with an expression of dubious horror. Like he wasn't sure if he was in trouble or not. But seemed to suspect that he might be.

Aro immediately rushed to reassure him. "Do not despair, Demetri. You are not under any threat."

Demetri blinked up at his master, once, twice, obviously perplexed. "I'm not? But you said I must do everything in my power to win… and I failed you."

Aro smiled wryly. "Proving that you do not have the means to circumvent Alice's talent. And that there is no possible way you could be the elusive culprit we seek."

It took a few moments for the implications of Aro's words to sink in. Then, when they finally did, Demetri's expression melted from one of mild alarm into one of great relief.

"You mean… I'm no longer considered a suspect?"

Caius crossed his arms petulantly and huffed. But Aro, the real authority, nodded. And at once, all the tension ebbed out of Demetri's shoulders.

"Go now, tell the others you are absolved. Oh, and fetch Afton for me. He's next on our list."

Demetri grinned, delighted that the laughingstock of the Volturi was the next most likely suspect. And with a sharp nod, slipped out of the room into the winding, cinnamon brick corridor beyond.

…

The match with Afton went much like Demetri's. He was no match for Alice's precognition. And his thought process seemed particularly transparent to Aro, who looked almost bored as he watched the match unfold.

When Alice beat him in a solid eight seconds, he was promptly sent away, with only a brief assurance that he "was not the vampire they were looking for" and a command to fetch the next suspect.

It continued like that for the better part of the afternoon. Some games were longer than others. And a few of the guard members with supernatural talents tried to use them to their benefit. Which was fine, until Jane sent Alice howling in pain to the floor, and had to be forcibly hauled out of the room, kicking and screaming, by a wincing, but still miraculously standing Caius.

But in every game so far, no one had been able to render themselves blind to Alice. She was always able to see their decisions and who was making them. Even when Aro ordered Alice to close her eyes and hold her breath when he brought in her next contender, so she wouldn't know their identity until they made a decision.

She was always able to see through any attempts at subterfuge. And as Aro and Caius made their way down their respective lists, they began to grow increasingly frustrated.

At last, there came a point when Aro had interrogated every guard member except one. Before they were brought in, Caius brushed his knuckles gently along the side of Aro's face. And Aro recoiled in horror.

"You cannot possibly think that she is responsible, can you?" he voiced in protest in response to something Caius had shared with his thoughts.

I wasn't sure who she was. But Alice, despite their best attempts, was never in the dark.

"Chelsea?" she asked, even though it was evident from her expression that she didn't need to.

Caius rolled his eyes. And Aro smiled sheepishly.

"I suppose there is little point trying to disguise it from you," he murmured, sounding a little embarrassed. "Yes, Chelsea. I had rather hoped it would not be necessary to interrogate her after all…"

"Perhaps your method of testing is too obvious?" Caius suggested.

"Shall I try it myself?" Aro offered.

Caius scoffed. "And what exactly will that prove? That you are the culprit?"

Aro shook his head. "Of course not. But I do think I have an idea of what might be necessary to fool Alice. After all… I do know best how her power operates."

"Besides me, of course," Alice chipped in.

"Of course," Aro allowed.

"Fine," Caius huffed. "Get on with it then. I tire of this."

Aro slipped into the dilapidated chair on the opposite side of the broken desk. Then he reached out with one hand for Alice's, leaving the other open to play. Alice took his hand again without hesitation—she had nothing to hide. Then she quickly reset the pieces on the board, and immediately began watching Aro's decisions; planning her first move.

For several long seconds, her eyes drifted across the polished black pieces on her side of the board, surveying the possibilities. They were glazed over slightly, they way they got when she was peering into the future. And her brow furrowed in concentration.

During that time, Aro too seemed to be concentrating. He studied the white marble pieces lined up in front of him speculatively, his crimson eyes flicking rapidly between them. But every time his gaze honed in on one ornately carved piece, the hand connected to Alice twitched ever so slightly, and what he saw in her mind made him decide against it.

He glanced at a rook, then a knight, then a bishop. But each time, I guessed Alice must have predicted it. And in her mind, he could clearly see how his moves would lead to his defeat.

They continued like this for some time—sitting stonily still, staring at their respective pieces, and making moves only inside their own heads. But they didn't seem to be making any progress. Alice wore an expression of smug assurance—confident in her abilities to see what Aro had coming. And after nearly a minute of trying to strategize around her powers, Aro gritted his teeth and lowered his eyebrows, squinting at the board in frustration.

Looking more bored than usual, Marcus sighed. "It is pointless to try and outwit her, Aro," he said, his fingers brushing again against Aro's wrist.

Aro's eyes snapped up from the board just then. And it looked like he was having a sudden epiphany.

"Why, that's genius, Marcus!" Aro exclaimed, like his coven brother had just made the most insightful observation in the world.

Caius and I both narrowed our eyes. It didn't take a genius to know that.

But suddenly Alice's smug smile evaporated. Her eyes blew wide with panic, like she was suddenly blind. And her mouth opened to form the word, "How—?"

But before the syllable could even fully leave her lips, Aro was moving. He seized a piece on the board, seemingly at random, and moved it haphazardly forward. Alice blinked in shock after it clacked into place on the marble. Then, slowly, with her perfect pout bent into a worried line, and her normally smooth forehead crumpled, she made her move.

As soon as Alice's pawn touched down, Aro was moving again. His hand skittered quickly back and forth over the top of his rows of pieces, like he was trying to simulate the scrolling of a slot machine. While his fingers twitched, Alice stared at them with the intensity of a hawk, grimacing in concentration. But it didn't look like she was able to predict which one he would choose. She remained on the edge of her seat, her face wan with worry, until Aro's hand suddenly curled around a piece. And even then, her confidence didn't return.

As Aro finished his second, random move—a sudden leap with his knight over the ivory line of pawns—Alice decided to comment, before she touched her pieces.

"How are you doing that?" she snapped. "I can see your moves, but I can't see them!"

The corner of Aro's lips curled upwards. "Oh?" he said, feigning surprise. "So, you are just as blind as the rest of us, now? Only able to observe what is happening in the present, and not the future?"

For our benefit, Alice glumly nodded. And I gasped. Had Aro really managed that?

From the look of absolute horror dawning across Alice's face, it looked like he had. But now my mind was burning with the same question as hers. How was he doing that?

Aro leaned back in his chair, his smirk growing into a full-blown grin. His blindingly white teeth glinted in the flickering orange light of a nearby candle. Meanwhile, Alice looked like she was having the crisis of a century.

Aro waved an impatient hand towards the board. "Go on now," he urged. "I do not have all day."

Alice's expression turned frantic. "But—!"

Aro held up his free hand to silence her. "Shh, shh, shh!" he chided. "None of that."

Obediently, Alice snapped her lips shut. But she didn't say anything. And she didn't move.

While Alice silently fretted, Aro gestured to the board again. While he pointed, he turned his head to give Alice an expectant, sidelong glance. "Now, if you would please…"

Alice gave him a shaky, clipped nod. Then, with quivering white fingers, reached out for one of her black pieces. She deliberated for a moment, suddenly not sure what move to make next, before settling on another pawn, still in its original position.

At an almost human pace, she slid it two spaces forward. It scraped loudly in my inhuman ears. And the sound—like nails on a chalkboard—made my flesh want to crawl.

When Alice's piece lurched to a stop, Aro's eyes sparked with glee. Then, in a flash, he grabbed another piece, seemingly at random, and almost flung it across the board. It hit the surface with a loud clack that made Alice and I both jump. Then it was Alice's turn again.

With a brow furrowed so deep I thought it might cut off circulation to her nose, Alice gradually reached for her bishop. And after her turn, the match continued like that for several minutes, with Alice making slow, deliberate, strategic moves, and Aro acting out spontaneously. The longer it went on, the wider Aro's smile got, while at the same time, Alice seemed to be progressively drowning in anxiety.

I wasn't sure exactly what was going on—I couldn't read their minds or predict the future. But it looked like Aro was making his decisions so last-second that even Alice couldn't predict them until they were already made. And she was left to try and figure out his strategy as it went—a novel and abjectly terrifying experience for her.

Aro's hand zipped across the board—a blip—one final time. Then he leaned back in his chair and leveled Alice with a pointed look.

"Checkmate."

Alice's eyes darted down to look at the arrangement of pieces next to her king. A sixteenth of a second later, when they snapped back up, her mouth was wide open in shock. And her eyes looked ready to pop out of her pretty little head.

"How?" she demanded again.

Aro unexpectedly retracted his hand from Alice's, making her flinch at the sudden lack of contact. Then he propped up both elbows on the broken desk and steepled both hands under his chin.

"It's quite simple, actually," he began, his whole face alight with maniacal glee. "You can only predict what has been decided. So, naturally, I decided to win—which you saw. But I did not make any more detailed plans in advance."

Oh. He could do that?

While my head reeled, still taking it all in. Caius snorted at my side. "While this has been fascinating," the word dripped with sarcasm, "What exactly did your little game prove, brother?"

Aro looked toward Caius like he was being especially obtuse. "Why I thought that would be obvious," he remarked, sounding disappointed with Caius' lack of understanding. "Now I have an inkling as to how our enemy is evading dear Alice's foresight."

Caius raised a snowy eyebrow. "Which means?"

Aro heaved a sigh, exasperated that he had to spell it out. "Which means we can narrow our suspect pool even further. And… more importantly, I believe… begin to strategize how we will fight back."

Caius' pallid face crumpled with anger and confusion. "And how exactly do you propose we fight back, when we cannot see our enemy's next moves coming?"

"Well," Aro explained patiently, rising from his seat, and slowly making his way across the cramped room. "It is rather simple, actually," he assured us both as he wandered closer. "We just need to take the appropriate steps to stop this battle from getting out of hand."

Caius' face warped further. "I still do not see how—"

Aro stopped drifting over the dusty stone floor, just inches away from his coven brother's face. Then, without warning, he pressed a finger against his brother's lips to shut him up.

Caius recoiled, looking startled and disgusted. But didn't say anything after that. Instead he glared at Aro expectantly, waiting for him to finish explaining.

When Aro seemed confident that Caius would no longer interrupt, he pulled his hand away from Caius' lips and snapped his fingers, and Alice flitted out of her chair to his side. Without exchanging any words, she seemed to know immediately what he wanted. And, as usual, she was perfectly prepared.

She reached into one of the deep pockets of her clothes underneath her inky black cloak, and pulled out a slip of paper and a bright red Sharpie. Aro swiped both form her tiny hands in a single movement. Then he began hastily drawing a series of thick, overlapping, straight lines.

It took me about a sixteenth of a second to realize what he had drawn. It was a tic-tac-toe board.

Caius seemed to reach the realization a twenty-eighth of a second sooner. He was already groaning by the time I'd figured it out. "More games, Aro?"

Aro frowned. "I am trying to prove a point, brother," he explained. Then he handed the paper and the Sharpie back to Alice. "Now, if you would not mind making the first move?"

"X or O?" Alice asked, tapping the capped back of the pen against her cheek.

Aro made a dismissive motion. "Either. It does not matter."

Alice drew a bright red X in the center square. Then, without him ever asking for it back, she handed the paper and pen over to Aro.

Like with the chess game before, he made his move completely at random, scribbling an O in the first empty box his eyes fell upon. Then he handed it back to Alice.

Alice studied the position of Aro's O relative to her X. Then made a judicious decision.

They handed the paper back and forth a few times. Each time the paper changed hands, Caius grew more and more impatient. His shoes tapped the stone floor rapidly with mounting irritation. His arms were staunchly crossed. And his eyebrows formed a snowy "v" over the bridge of his nose.

Three seconds later, the match was over. Alice drew a long line across three Xs in a row, then pumped a fist in the air and gave a jubilant cry of victory.

"I did it!" she exclaimed, so thrilled she was hopping up and down. "I've never played that game blind before, and I won!"

Aro glanced at Caius and gestured to Alice. "See?" he prompted. "There are only a limited amount of moves one can make in that game to attain victory. So even without her foresight, Alice could still predict and thwart my moves. Especially given that my strategy was limited by how quickly I had to execute my decisions."

Caius opened his mouth to say something. But Aro held up a hand to indicate he wasn't finished before the words could be bit out.

"This means…" Aro stressed. "…we can win. Just as all Alice had to do in order to succeed was prevent my Os from landing, three in a row, all we have to do is set up the appropriate roadblocks to our enemy's goals. And of course, to preventing our unwitting extinction, as well."

"And what roadblocks do you propose we set up?" Caius snapped. "Would it not be simpler to merely find the culprit and kill them before they kill us?"

Before Aro could answer, Alice sighed, and added her own insight. "Finding the culprit is still our top priority. But even if we do kill them, that's no guarantee that their plot won't go forward. I realized, while I was playing our second game that maybe this isn't chess or tic-tac-toe at all. Maybe we're playing dominos, and the pieces are already set to fall," she explained.

Caius frowned. But the anger in his expression, for once, actually abated. "And why do you think that?" he pressed, genuinely curious.

"Well," Alice began. "I saw the first vision of this upcoming calamity in 1948, so our enemy has had more than enough time—even working within the constraints of my powers—to set something like that up. That would also explain why, over the years, I kept getting more visions—random and disjointed as they were. I'm guessing our culprit—whoever they are—would only plot one piece at a time, never the whole strategy, aside from the over-arching vision of our destruction. And that's why I've seen what I've seen."

"And—?" Caius prompted, sensing there was more.

Alice sighed before she went on. "I didn't want to say this before in front of everyone," she began, her voice dropping almost to a whisper, as if she was worried they guard might overhear through the thick stone walls, "I didn't want to cause a panic. But the newborn army we're destined to face off is already being created. I saw the first person bitten last week—not a trace of who did it. And five more have already joined him."

I sucked in a deep breath. And Caius stiffened at my side. This was bad news.

"They're biting each other, now," Alice elucidated further, her voice still hushed. "So, you see, even if we do catch the culprit, it may be too late to stop the army from growing and trying to fulfill their purpose."

When Alice was finished, Caius nodded, accepting. Then turned to Aro, the earlier ire in his expression returning.

"So, all of our interrogations have been a waste?" he demanded acridly.

Aro shook his head, his long ebony locks swaying with the movement. "No, quite the opposite. Even if killing the culprit will not stop the army, it needs to be done. And I believe the games we played today have proved quite insightful. Despite working intimately with Alice over the years, no one here understands the limits of Alice's powers as well as I do. Which means our culprit must have some sort of power that gives them insight into the inner workings of the mind. Perhaps another telepath."

Caius' eyes grew to the size of saucers. Then his entire body rippled with fury. "And you are only mentioning this now?"

"Now, now, brother," Aro said in a placating tone. "I do not need to touch you right now to know what you are thinking. But think of the timing," he urged. "How on earth would young Edward be able to orchestrate this before he met Alice?"

Edward. Of course, Caius would immediately think of Edward, I all, he and Aro were the only two telepaths I knew.

Caius was hunkering down into a predatory crouch. His muscles were contracting with rage. And his breathing had turned ragged; ferocious.

I inched away from him, terrified. But Aro seemed utterly nonplussed. He patted his brother's seething shoulders gently for a few seconds. Then, finally, after taking a few deep breaths, Caius managed to calm himself down.

"Fine," Caius snapped, straightening out. "Let us bring in Chelsea and finish our interrogations. Once she is cleared, send Demetri to find my son. Then, tell Heidi to warm up the jet. I want to take off as soon as possible."

I froze where I stood. The jet? Takeoff?

"Where are we going?" I asked, surprised by this sudden turn of events.

Caius' voice was flat, icy. "Seattle."