Annabelle's POV

A long and miserable trip later, and the ship finally docked. I wondered where we were, but before I had even stepped out of the brig, Demetri blindfolded me. He held onto the end of my rope again. They seemed to have given up entirely on depriving Alistair of his senses or else he already knew everything about these vampires, for they did nothing except assign Felix to him. Demetri yanked on the rope, forcing me to shuffle forward.

An interesting array of scents hit me as I left the ship. The briny scent of the ocean swirled in the air as bracing winds whistled around us.

Then, as I was tugged along, the wind calmed and the scents and sounds of human life in a bustling village assuaged my senses. Even without my sight, my senses were so vibrant that I could almost form a full picture of what was going on around me. I could smell the marketplace by its tanned leather, freshly baked bread, and different spices. I could hear the clinking of gems as customers looked at jewelry, and I could hear the slippery, almost soft sounds of damp rose stems rubbing together as someone picked out flowers for a bouquet.

But I had barely processed the richness of these sensory details when I was altogether consumed by the singular sensation of human blood. Inside me, the snake that so desired to sink its fangs into its prey rose up again. I snarled, my lips pulling back to expose my teeth.

I felt a sharp jab in my back. "Focus, newborn," a voice hissed.

The rope tugged me this way and that, navigating me through the crowd. I heard surprised voices as people saw that I was blindfolded and roped. But the vampires didn't seem to care.

However, one person - a human - broke away from the crowd to approach me and come speak to me. Before I could respond, however, I suddenly felt that overpowering numbness creep up on me again.

"Miss? Miss...?" But the person's voice was fading away.

Soon, I couldn't hear anything, due to the white mist that had wormed its way so thoroughly into my ears.

I can't explain to you how frightening Alec's power is. While Jane's power forces you to submit through the sharp, tearing sensation of pain, you at least know that you're supposed to resist. As such, you retain a sense of self. But with Alec's power... Yes, at first, when the numbness creeps up on you, you feel morally, mentally, and physically repulsed. But by the time you either panic or form the resolve to resist, it's already too late. The numbness has taken effect. It's swallowed you up entirely.

All there is before you is a white mist, a tantalizing vision to lure you into eternal and complete submission... Why think, when everything is part of one monotonous landscape? Why resist, when everything is ephemeral, swirling fog?

The mist disappeared at the same time as the blindfold.

Regaining my senses on two different levels all at once, sensory information overwhelmed my mind for a moment. It took me a prolonged second to put together the different pieces to actually take in where I was now and what was happening in front of me.

Oh, I realized, the particles of light hitting off of those dust motes, giving out spiraling colors of gold and white - they're part of a greater perception. In fact, if I zone out from the particle level, those atoms make up the intricately designed marble ceiling of whatever building I'm in...

My eyes traced down the gold, black, and white marble ceiling, slid down a handsomely carven column, and followed the chessboard-like pattern all the way down to the floor at my feet. The floor ascended into stairs surrounding a risen half-circle, on which three thrones were placed. I lifted my gaze to see that on these thrones were three vampires, sitting like kings, if not outright gods.

All three of them shared snow white skin. The texture seemed almost powdery. They also shared the same eye color: a bright crimson red in the center, but clouded towards the edges.

But there were clear differences among the three of them. A vampire with long black hair, who was sitting in an almost poetic manner, sat in the middle throne. He could easily have been Romeo, except that Romeo could die by poison. On the left, a vampire with silver-white hair that fell to his shoulders sat in a dominant posture. His razor-sharp gaze and stern jaw warned any and all that he did not have patience for anything that did not please him. And on the right, the tallest vampire, with shoulder-length raven black hair (even blacker than the first vampire's), and a completely indifferent expression that reminded me of Alec's sensory deprivation powers, sat, looking rather depressed.

The vampire sitting in the middle throne spoke delicately, but his voice rang out nonetheless: "Jane, Alex, Felix, Demetri - welcome."

"Thank you, Master Aro." Jane and Alec returned to their places at the bottom of the stairs. With their hoods back, I could see their faces and I guessed now that they were not simply siblings, but actual twins. Demetri and Felix kept guard over the doors.

"And you've brought us guests," Aro, the vampire with long black hair spoke, rising from his seat.

All three vampire lords turned their gazes onto Alistair and me.

"You never fail me, Jane," Aro continued, sounding most amused. He gracefully descended down the stairs towards us.

When he stopped before us, he opened his arms as though in welcome and said, "Alistair."

I turned my head to look at Alistair, but my movement caught the vampire lord's eye. His blood red eyes widened as he took in my presence, as though I had been too insignificant to be acknowledged before this moment, even though I'd been brought into his chambers as a captive.

But now, Aro wanted to know: "Alistair, have you found a mate?"

"Why ask when you'll know?" Alistair questioned sarcastically. "Still stuck on formalities after all this time, Aro?"

"It's only polite," Aro responded, in a surprisingly calm and light voice, as though his voice was constructed from the sound of falling feathers. He offered Aro a placating smile.

"Polite?" Alistair repeated. A flicker of rage broke through his perfect façade of casual annoyance. "You think I don't know, Aro? The renegade vampires after me didn't escape Volterra. They were sent by the three of you. You're determined to end the Cullens by hunting down their allies!"

I whipped my head back and forth between Aro and Alistair, terrified.

But Aro's smile did not break. Neither did the other two vampires stir. For a moment, there was only dead silence - the kind of silence that humans could never achieve. But we vampires could assume all the silence of a tomb because we were, in some sense, not alive.

Abruptly, a whispering, but powerful voice slithered in, breaking the silence in a strange, spellbinding hum. "No, they are not mates."

Aro looked back at the vampire who was sitting on the rightmost throne. "Thank you, brother," he said graciously.

Catching my curious gaze, Aro explained to me, "My brother Marcus has a most interesting gift. He can read the relationships between beings."

"But," Aro said, his voice suddenly becoming both brighter and more sinister, "that only tells me a fraction of what I wish to know."

Aro stepped forth and extended his hand toward Alistair. Alistair stiffened.

"Please do not refuse me. You know what will happen," Aro said, and his feathery voice thinly veiled a threat.

Alistair gritted his teeth in anger, but a moment later, he relented and reluctantly touched his finger to Aro's palm.

Aro closed his eyes. After a few beats of silence, Aro sighed. He murmured, "So, you suspected us all the way back when we visited the Cullens in Washington. You ran then, but you were curious as to what happened to Carlisle. Once that question was in your mind, your tracking ability led to her…"

Aro's eyes suddenly turned to me. I breathed out and stepped back. He laughed. "Don't worry, la mia bella. I only want to help you..." He stepped forward and removed the rope binding my wrists. I winced when the burning rope finally slid off of my skin.

"Yes, it burns, doesn't it?" Aro remarked knowingly.

"But you see? I only wish to help you," he repeated, watching the ropes fall to the ground. Then, he added, "...and to know what's on your mind."

In a seemingly perfunctory and polite move, Aro extended his hand out to me. I looked over at Alistair, but he gave no indication of what I should do. Before I could choose how to react, Aro, impatient, reached down and grabbed my hand.

I let out a noise of surprise as I saw my own memories flash through my mind.

I was five and I realized that I was different. I didn't have parents and I didn't celebrate birthdays.

I was fourteen when I realized I had an affinity and talent for science, particularly biology and biochemistry. I immersed myself in academics.

I was seventeen and I realized that between the money I had scraped together and the acceptance letters I'd received, I was going to be able to go to college.

I was twenty-one and was sitting in a hospital in London, trying to process what it meant to have cancer. That's when the door opened and the doctor in charge walked in. "Hello," he said. "My name is Dr. Cullen."

His kind voice became increasingly familiar as more memories flashed by.

"Ms. Taylor. May I ask what you are doing?"

"Well, I couldn't really afford to buy you a real present, so I stole flowers off of several different properties…"

...

"Stop it, doctor."

"Stop… it?"

"Your eyes… They're sad. Stop that."

...

"Annabelle. You are allowed to save yourself."

"How much time do I have?"

"If you refuse treatment, weeks."

"Thank you for everything."

...

Weeks passed forward in a blur. I reflected on my time in the orphanage and stared at artwork in museums, wondering if any of this preparation would actually help me face death. I lost most of my voice, breath, and energy. It was hard to just be a living, breathing thing, let alone a full person.

My time was up that last day I went to the supermarket. I collapsed.

When I opened my eyes again, I saw a face that had become dear to me.

"Annabelle."

"Doctor."

"I'm scared."

His sad golden eyes gazed at me. They were the last thing I remembered of my human life because I died.

Then, there was only pain.

...

When finally, it subsided, I was utterly confused until Dr. Cullen explained everything to me. I was a vampire, but I could choose to only live off the blood of animals, if I so wished. I agreed, but I remained defensive now that I knew his true identity. He looked sadly at me, as though he regretted creating me.

Finally, one day, he came into the cavern with a grim expression.

"Annabelle. I have to leave."

"All right. Where are we going?"

"No. You cannot come with me."

I stared into those golden eyes, and saw nothing but truth.

He doesn't want me to come, I thought numbly. He doesn't want me at all.

...

In the following days, I continued testing my strength against human blood, when I ran into Alistair. He followed me to the cavern in the ocean.

"I'm being pulled towards you," he said. "Care to explain why?"

"Your eyes…" he said. "Reminds me of Carlisle."

"Could you lead me to Carlisle Cullen? Just to make sure he's all right."

...

Alistair and I were swimming in the ocean. He had helped me escape and led me all the way to Forks. When we stepped in the forest, however, Jane's voice rang out dryly, "I thought you would notice us. Impressive as always, Alistair."

"Tie them up and take them aboard," she ordered, sounding bored.

A half day later and-

...

Suddenly, I was in my dreamscape, flying amongst the stars. Golden luminescent light dripped from the stars, onto lavender, pale pink, and light teal clouds. The clouds gave way and an endless, soundless deep blue sky opened below me, sparkling with silver gems. I took a deep breath, and then jumped -

"Fascinating." Aro's singular word shattered my dream.

My eyes snapped open. I leapt back, terrified, because if I wasn't mistaken, Aro had just read through every thought I'd ever had. Trembling, I snarled at him. "What did you do to me?"

Aro held both hands out, as if to calm me down, and said simply, "Peace."

Then, he glanced over his shoulder and murmured with a certain satisfaction, "Marcus, you would love her."

Without the slightest change in expression, Marcus asked, "Why is that?"

"She can dream," Aro said, and his voice revealed the awe that he felt. "She constructs the most beautiful worlds in her mind and experiences them through sleep."

Alistair glanced at me. But this time, I was the one who did not respond, either to him or Aro.

"Interesting," Marcus said flatly.

"Who is her creator?" Caius asked, his sharp tone ringing through the air and breaking the feathery, floaty atmosphere Aro's persona so effectively created.

"This is where it becomes even more interesting," Aro said delightfully. He put his hands together and gazed at me as though pondering a deep thought. "Her creator is Carlisle Cullen."

Caius raised a skeptical eyebrow. At the foot of the stairs, Jane hissed. I remembered what she had told me about Carlisle: "Carlisle Cullen. The conspirator."

"You say that Carlisle created her," Marcus said. "Yet she is alone."

"He abandoned her," Aro explained softly. "He... didn't want her anymore." He repeated my thoughts word for word. He noticed the confidence and resistance on my face flicker when he spoke those words aloud.

"As we well know, the Cullens pride themselves on being a so-called family. Why has she been left behind?" Caius inquired astutely. "She's clearly a young vampire. She can't have committed too many sins as of yet. Yet, Carlisle abandoned her? What could she have possibly done?"

"Nothing," Aro replied delicately. "He just didn't want her."

Had I been a human, I would have flushed red with embarrassment. As it was, a low growl escaped my lips. Jane immediately turned her eyes on me, but Aro held up his hand. Meanwhile, Alistair shot me another glance.

"Then, what shall we do with them? They're hardly leverage," Caius said in a clipped voice, ignoring my growl completely.

"No, but they were on their way to join with Carlisle," Aro said. His voice inflection did not change at all, but the tension in the room was suddenly palpable.

"Let's keep them here until our business with the Cullens is done," Marcus suggested.

"Agreed," Caius decided briskly.

"Yes..." Aro seemed more thoughtful, more reluctant, and yet, the expression on his face was shrewd and calculating. "Our friend Alistair is too clever here. He's figured out too much, seen too much. And our friend… what was your name? Annabelle?"

I growled at him. "You pretend to ask politely after you've rummaged through my head? You don't have the right to know anything about me."

The next moment, a fresh bolt of pain struck me where I stood, as Jane invoked her power on me. I cried out. It was but a brief burst of pain, but it was enough to knock me on my knees.

"Yes, Annabelle," Aro continued lightly, though I hadn't said anything. "She'll stay with us, too. She has the most vivid power."

"No," I protested vehemently, forcing myself to get back up on my feet. "I want to leave."

Aro blinked at my retort. "Well," he sighed, "we don't keep people here by force unless they've broken a law."

"Alistair hasn't broken any laws, either," I said.

Aro suddenly grinned. It frightened me. "You are very young, Annabelle," he said. "Many things happened before you were turned immortal. Alistair broke the law when the Cullens did. That was what Esme died for."

"Esme?" I had never heard that name before.

"Yes, of course. Esme was Carlisle's wife. They were together for many years. Carlisle never, ever left her side." Aro paused. His eyes studied my suddenly mute expression as he asked innocently, "Didn't you know?"

Aro suddenly tsked. "Poor dear," he murmured, gazing at my face. "Your creator taught you absolutely nothing... except how to suffer by resisting our most natural temptation for human blood. He truly left you without a single thought for your well-being."

I remained silent.

"We, the Volturi, are different," Aro promised me. "And I offer you my aid. Stay here and learn about the arts and expand your gift."

"You said... You said I could leave as long as I didn't break any laws..." I said hesitantly.

Aro nodded. "Yes, my lovely, I did."

"We, unlike the Cullens, respect the rule of law," he told me. "We are not dictated by our desires, but by our principles."

"Then... you won't arrest me again for trying to find Carlisle, will you?" I challenged, raising my eyebrow at him. "After all, I presume that searching for someone is not a crime."

Aro suddenly laughed. "Clever girl," he praised me. "Of course we won't stop you. In fact, if you truly wish to find Carlisle, we'll lead you to him. You see, we too are searching for him."

I studied Aro cautiously. Besides me, Alistair made a sudden movement, as though to get my attention. I started to turn my head towards Alistair, but Aro abruptly reached out and grasped my face in his hand. Though Aro hardly looked as though he was exerting effort, his fingers adamantly held me in place, forcing me to look at him.

"Child," Aro said, and his voice was dead serious. "Join us, and you can do anything your little heart desires. We could find Carlisle and bring him here, together."

I hesitated. More than anything, I want to see Carlisle and make sure he was all right. But... I'm not alone.

"What about Alistair?" I asked.

"He will await his trial for his crimes," Caius spoke pointedly. His tone indicated that he was through with us, and wanted us out.

"Then I'll wait with him," I decided. Alistair was only trying to help me. He would never have been caught without me.

"No," Alistair finally broke his silence. In a firm voice, he told me, "You'll starve. Besides, this has to do with events before your time. Leave, while you can."

"My, you sound so cryptic, Alistair," Aro said lightly. "Of course, you may stay, Annabelle. Nothing would please me more."

"Annabelle. Don't do this," Alistair growled.

I can't just leave you, Alistair. "I'll stay," I affirmed. "I'll stay with Alistair."

Aro smiled. "Then, so be it," he said poetically, lifting his hands lightly with his palms upturned, as though he had just delivered a sermon.

Behind him, Caius spoke sharply, "Felix. Demetri."

Felix and Demetri threw Alistair and me into a Volturi prison cell, which was a barren underground room. It featured three hard stone walls and a fourth wall comprised of golden metal bars. The bars hummed with the same threatening energy as the rope that had bound my wrists before.

As they threw us in, Alistair managed to stay on his feet, though he staggered a little. I tripped spectacularly and landed in a heap on the cold and dirty stone floor.

"You fool," Alistair spat out at me. "You utter fool. What were you thinking?"

Sitting on a prison cell floor and hearing Alistair's harsh words, I realized the full force of my situation: Despite not having committed any crimes, I was sitting, of my own volition, in a prison cell. What was more, my fate was tied to Alistair, who was awaiting a trial for some event that I knew nothing of.

Still, no matter what my fate, I knew that I had made the right decision to stay with Alistair. Regardless of how irritating we found each other and regardless of how little he wanted from me, I knew that I owed him my allegiance.

"You're right. I'm a fool," I retorted. "But I'm a newborn. What do you expect? I admit that I don't know anything about what's going on. Still, I went off of the only judgment I was certain about: I can't just leave you."

"I told you what to do," Alistair said scathingly. "I told you to leave."

"I wasn't given a new life to follow someone else's orders," I replied stoutly.

Alistair just shook his head. "You'll have to, when they sentence me to death."

"They might not-"

"Might not? Of course they will! Don't you see? This trial is a sham. To have a trial at all is a declaration of death!" Alistair seethed. "The Volturi have never held a trial where they weren't sure of the outcome."

I fell silent.

"Damn fool," he muttered again. "Yapping about and following me like some lost puppy. Use your fucking head."

I stubbornly defended my decision to stay with me. "I still don't regret my decision," I told him honestly. I let out a long breath. "If I die, I die. I've been living off of borrowed time, anyways."

Alistair sighed in frustration and slumped against the wall. We didn't speak for a long time.

As the day waned into a deep, black night, I created a dreamscape for myself before I fell asleep. But for once, I didn't go chasing through some fantastical landscape. Instead, I pictured a place that I'd been to real life, a place that had given me much comfort the last time I thought I was going to die...

When I woke up, Alistair was staring at me curiously. "So it truly is a gift."

Blinking, I sat up and looked at him.

"Where did you go in your sleep?" he asked me.

"A park in London…" I told him. "It was the most beautiful place to watch sunsets."

"I wasn't sure if it was going to work," I confessed. "I've never built dreams from memory, only imagination. But it worked, after all."

"Have you ever tried it on anyone else?" Alistair said thoughtfully.

"What do you mean?"

"You know... Send someone else to sleep. Transmit a dream."

"Oh." I thought about it. "No. I didn't realize it was an option."

"It may or may not be. I don't know. It is your gift, after all. I was just wondering."

"Can I try it on you?" I asked him.

He shifted, uncomfortable. "What would that entail?" he asked warily.

"I don't know," I answered straightforwardly. "I've never done it before, so how would I know?"

"Right, right, no experience, you know nothing. I got it." Alistair sighed. "I've forgotten how tiring it is to be with a newborn. It's like Carlisle all over again."

Offended by his demeaning remark of how I "knew nothing" (no matter how true it might be), I shot back, "Not all of us are as old and worn-out as you, Alistair. Some of us still have the energy to try new things."

Alistair rolled his eyes at me. "Fine," he acquiesced. "You can try it."

"But," he warned, "if you get too close, I'll bite."

"I didn't expect any less," I said, barely refraining from rolling my eyes back at him.

Alistair awkwardly folded his hands on his lap. Even though our situation was dire, I laughed to myself. Alistair really is odd.

But as my laughter died away, I realized that I truly hadn't the foggiest of where to begin. Do I have to send him to sleep first? How would I do that? And how do I construct a dreamscape for someone else? Even if I did, how would he receive it? I don't have telepathy...

"You're supposed to be putting me to sleep, not yourself again," Alistair said impatiently.

"Shush. I'm thinking."

"Oh, are you? Is that part of your 'trying new things' regime?" he muttered under his breath.

I shot him an annoyed glare.

Finally, I decided in my head: Let's just try things. I remembered running countless experiments at school. Whenever I didn't know where to start, I just mixed things. I had fond memories of setting off the fire alarm. Of course at the time, it had been horrifying and humiliating. But it had most certainly produced results. Well, I'll have to be more careful now than then. I can't exactly allow myself to set Alistair's head on fire now, can I? I'll have to take it slow...

I came over and sat next to Alistair. He positively flinched.

"Don't worry," I said wryly. "I don't bite."

I closed my eyes and tried to concentrate on my dream landscape. I visualized the park in London at sunset in one still frame. Then, I imagined that I was projecting the image from myself.

I peeked open an eye. Alistair was looking at me with a highly skeptical expression.

"Nothing?"

"Nothing."

Hm... Maybe, instead of thinking about a still image, I should think about the dream as a whole, like I normally do when I construct dreams for myself. I pictured the dream in all of its fluidity - the melding colors, the golden tint cast about of all of the autumn leaves, showcasing the vibrancy even in the season of death. I dreamt up the momentary whispers of wind that would blow gently over me, growing slightly stronger as the sun dipped below the horizon. Then, I conjured up a mental image of a glass orb, imagining that my entire dream was contained in that orb. I envisioned transferring the orb from my mind to Alistair's...

"How about that?" I asked him.

"Still nothing."

Damn. Well, all right. Perhaps it's not the construction of the dream as it is the transference of it. After all, I can construct dreams for myself without any issue. But I've never given them to someone else.

"Okay, I'm going to try something else," I told him. He watched me warily as I got onto my knees so that I was slightly taller than him (since he was sitting).

I slowly began to reach my hand out towards him.

"What are you doing he asked?" Leaning back, he shied away from my hand.

"Just bear with me," I said, a bit impatiently.

He growled at me.

"Don't bite me, now," I warned him. I touched my fingertips to his forehead. He stiffened, but made no move to resist.

I took a deep breath. I re-visualized the moving structure of the dream of the sunset in the London park. I once again imagined everything from the spatiotemporal dimensions to the melancholy shimmering colors, easily willing all of these different aspects of perception and experience to harmonize for the creation of this dream. Then, I imagined my dream bleeding out from me, literally dripping down my fingertips, traveling from the universe of my mind to the universe of his mind.

However, I found his mind locked to me. His consciousness was altogether unwilling to let me in. I paused, shocked that I could feel his consciousness. But I instinctively knew what to do. While still willing the experience of my mind to enter his mind, I simultaneously willed him to sleep, in order to receive my vision. Relax. Let down your mental guards. Accept my dream.

Alistair's eyes slowly slipped shut. The tension in his body gradually dissipated as he relaxed. His breathing slowed. And though he remained sitting upright, he hunched over slightly, his head bowing down a little.

I stared at him in awe. He's really sleeping. I have to admit, it was nice to see Alistair relaxed for once.

But the real question is: is he also dreaming? I reached out and gently shook his shoulder, waking him up.

Alistair's eyes opened. He instinctively snarled, not liking that I was touching his shoulder or that he couldn't remember when I'd gotten so close to him.

But then, when he remembered what had just happened and realized that he'd just woken up from sleeping, he looked as though he could hardly believe it.

"Well?" I said, nervous with anticipation.

"That's not how I remember London," he said.

I gasped in excitement. "Did you see the park? Did you really see it?"

Alistair glanced up at me, irritated. "You are being very loud."

"I'm sorry." Unable to help myself, I whisper-shouted. "So did it work?"

"You intended for me to see a sunset in a park in London, correct?"

"Yes!"

He glared at me.

Quickly, I dropped my voice again and muttered abashedly, "Yes..."

"Well," Alistair said, "that's what I saw."

I gaped in surprise. I looked down, marveling at my hands. I transmitted a dream through them. I don't know if physical touch is required or functioning as some sort-of crutch, but still... that is amazing.

Alistair snorted. "You're happy even in this mess?"

"I can't believe it worked," I said, still awestruck.

"You know, you should work on that skill," he told me. "It could grow into an offensive attack."

I cocked my head at him, puzzled. "Offensive?"

"Yes. You touch someone and they fall asleep immediately. You could give them a blank dream, perhaps. It'll be like knocking them unconscious, but without the pain."

"Oh, I see." I thought it over. "I think I could do it, but I would need to practice."

"And I wouldn't want it to be a blank dream," I said. It's uncomfortable to think that I could use my power to achieve the same effect as Alec's power...

"Suit yourself," Alastair said nonchalantly. "Give them a dream of a bed of roses for all I care. The point is you could knock them out."

"A bed of roses would hurt, Alistair," I pointed out. "Think of all the thorns."

He scowled at me. "You know what I meant."

"You meant the soft part of flowers - the petals," I teased him, still running off the exuberance I felt at having succeeded. "Petals, Alistair. Say it with me - 'petals'."

"Shut the hell up."

Suddenly, the unmistakable scent of freshly split human blood wafted down into the dungeons. Alistair's eyes grew brighter. I hissed loudly. For once, I was glad I was in a metal cage. I was thirsty and I didn't think I would be able to control myself. As it were, I found myself getting up thoughtlessly. I pressed myself against the bars, even though they burned me. It didn't matter. I hardly felt the burn on my skin compared to the burn in my throat...

"What's going on?" I muttered, gritting my teeth together. "Did a tourist trip and hurt themselves?"

Alistair snorted derisively. "So innocent. They're feeding. They do this every day. Lure in a group of tourists with the promise of seeing ancient ruins..."

"Well, they're ancient ruins, all right," Alistair deadpanned, clearly insulting Aro, Marcus, and Caius.

"Every... Every day?" I whispered in disbelief. The horror of the situation slapped me in the face, slapped me awake.

I shook my head and backed away from the bars.

Even though I was desperately thirsty, I was morally repulsed by what was happening.

"You're just like him," Alistair scoffed. "Both of you think it's the end of the world if a human dies."

He sighed and murmured, "Both of you get me in trouble with the Volturi."

I glanced back at him curiously. "Alistair, how did Carlisle involve you with the Volturi the first time?" This had been a question in my mind ever since Alistair mentioned that he was on the run from the Volturi because of Carlisle.

Alistair replied reluctantly. "It's a long story..."

"Maybe it will help distract us from our thirst," I said. I sat down besides him again. I couldn't quite ignore the parched feeling in my throat, but it helped to focus on something else.

Noticing my steadfast gaze on him, Alistair shrugged. "Carlisle brought together a coven of vampires. He calls them 'family'. One of his so-called family members, Edward, fell in love with a human girl."

"Did he expose us to her?" I wondered.

"Worse. He married her and had a child with her, all while she was still human."

My mouth fell open. "I didn't know that was possible."

"Human-vampire relationships don't work well long-term," Alistair agreed. "But it's true. It happened. She was changed after she gave birth, meaning her child was half-human, half-vampire."

"A hybrid child?"

"Yes," he said. "Only someone saw the child and thought it was a full vampire, an Immortal Child. We have a history of Immortal Children and the havoc they wreaked. They had no mental development, so they could never curb their thirst or temper. But they looked so angelic that whole covens would die trying to protect them. Battles raged."

"So the Volturi believed the Cullens had created an Immortal Child," I realized.

He nodded.

"But how do you enter the story?"

"I'm getting there," he said, annoyed. He probably hadn't talked so much in a long while. I shut up quickly.

Alistair screwed up his eyes, as though forcing himself through a particularly painful exercise as he recited: "The Cullens thought they could prove that their child was not immortal because in fact, she grew with each passing day. So they gathered witnesses to watch her change, in a way no true Immortal Child could. They asked us to testify that the child would not be a threat to the existence of vampires. I was one of the vampires who gathered."

"The Volturi came, but they came with a further purpose. They wanted to destroy the Cullen Coven, which had grown enough to challenge theirs. That is the kind-of respect Carlisle has earned from vampires around the world. The Volturi saw Carlisle as a threat and wanted to get rid of him. It didn't work, though. The Cullens' plan succeeded. I didn't know until later because I didn't stay."

"You didn't stay as a witness? You left them?"

"Of course I left them. I didn't want to get entangled with politics ever again."

"What? Were you a politician as a human?" I asked, laughing. I could not imagine a less stereotypically political-like character than Alistair. Alistair was the embodiment of a nomad - refusing to be caught under anyone's net of power, a far cry from wanting to gain that power for himself.

But Alistair didn't laugh. Instead, he said, "England in the 1300s was a bloody time for the aristocrats. But my father didn't need to go so far as to sell his whole family to a sadistic vampire."

"Oh." The heaviness of what he'd just told me suddenly weighed on me. I bit my lower lip, feeling guilty for having laughed. "I'm so sorry."

Alistair shrugged. "That was a long time ago. But even when I was a human, I knew I preferred the peace of solitude."

He looked at me. "You and Carlisle are just further proof of that."

"Alistair..." I said quietly, fully intending to express my regret and responsibility for landing him in such an unfortunate situation.

But before I could dredge up the words to confess, Alistair said, "I don't care anymore, though." He stared out at the empty space in front of me. "Deep down, I think I've always been waiting for my time to go. It will be a release from everything."

a/n: to Great Job: Okay, but I really laughed when I saw that your name was "Great Job". I know it's part of the comment, and I'm super thankful for it, but it made me laugh to think of you as the embodiment of good will for fanfiction authors - popping around to leave little compliments for us. Anyways, thank you very much for your correction. I've gone back and replaced the incorrect "daughter-in-law" with "granddaughter". Thank you! I'm so happy to hear that you're enjoying the story, and Leah and Jacob are a dream power couple for sure.