The Collector

by jinnibelle

A darkish Christmas tale set in a world in which the Cullens were not the first vampires who crossed paths with Bella, instead, she met the collector of gifted immortals and his lovely companion.

17. Sheriff's Daughter

Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight.

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Warnings: Suicide, character death, heavily implied sibling incest, suicidal thoughts.

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00:31 a.m., Thursday, December 26, 1540, West Tower of the Castle of Volterra, Volterra

Such a lovely night.

The Volterra Clock Tower – which stood on the other side of Piazza dei Priori and was in clear line of sight from the Castle's West Tower on which he had been perched on for the last hour, inside an empty arch, his black clad legs dangling over the edge and his bare white feet creating a peculiar contrast – seemingly just swimming in the air of the dark winter night on their own, if he did not focus on them, – had struck its twelfth ring half an hour ago. The lovely stars were shining all around him. The winter solstice had come and gone five nights ago.

Aro loved high places. Air. The howling wind. The feeling of being on top of the word. Free as a bat. Granted, being on top of the Castle's highest tower could not be properly likened to gazing upon the planet from the Moon but still incomparable to the mundaneness of walking on the earth below.

"You are late." Aro interrupted the ringing silence.

"Brother." Didyme quietly hailed behind him before she covered the remaining distance between them and pressed herself to his back, her hands sneaking around his chest while she rested her cheek on his shoulder, that sweet, delicious scent of ripe oranges consuming his mind… and setting free a cloud of fluttering butterflies inside him.

"I'm afraid to ask what it is you wish of me, Sister." Aro guardedly confessed all the while drinking in each moment as if he were a parched vampire who had been deprived of sustenance for three and a half thousand years. It must be something extraordinarily diabolical for her to act like this, but-

"Such a lovely night." Didyme whispered by his ear, hugging him even tighter to herself. "Reminds me of all those hundreds of thousands of nights we spent stargazing on our Island." Aro felt Didyme's hands begin to lazily caress his chest over his shirt. And slip further down over his solar plexus- "Just like this."

Every muscle in his body tensed and Aro cramped his hands, which until now had been idly resting by each side of his knees, into the edge of the rock wall beneath.

"Didi… What are you doing." His words were rough. Vulnerable. Her hands did not pause.

"Bear with me. For a moment." His sister requested. "I shan't ask for more, worry not."

Her lovely hands kept stroking his chest and all he could do was attempt to not melt into a puddle and attentively listen to the words she continued to whisper by his ear, "I've been thinking lately."

"I've noticed."

"Of course you have." There was a smile on Didyme's lips when she spoke. But it was a sad smile. …Strange. Didi was never sad-

"You have always been the most important person in my life." …This was entirely unexpected- "Always, Brother." …and deeply troubling-

"Didi… what has brought this on?"

"I… want you to know. Had I woken… whole. We would be living our happy ever after. Even still."

Smooth silk gloves wiped away his tears. But they could do nothing to wipe away his ragged breathing.

"I can never turn back the last three and a half millennia. It is impossible." Her right hand pressed on his still heart while her left one leaned his head against hers. Their long blue hair falling together over his shoulder, mingling with his own, and making it impossible to tell apart. Aro never wanted her to let go of him-

"And while I wish it was in my power to take back even the last six millennia and start anew, know you are the very best thing that has ever happened to me, Aro."

"No, I'm not-"

"I wish there was someone to blame for my having been the worst to happen to you, Beloved-"

"No. Stella… no. You were never-"

"Let me speak!" Didyme snapped at him. Then she drew in a deep breath and calmly continued, "There is no one to blame. Least of all you. It was not your fault, Beloved. It was simply my Fate." Aro felt a loving kiss being pressed to his head and his eyes fluttered close.

It had been an eternity sinc-

"I wish you had killed me the moment I opened my bloody red eyes, Brother." Didyme confessed into the night, making his eyes pop wide open, freezing him on the spot. Making the earlier foreboding feeling intensify a hundred fold.

"Stella... you are scaring me."

"The world would have been better off. You would have been better off without me."

"No. No no no! Never. Never, Stella! Never think this! There is none I would have traded for you. Don't you remember our vow to each other? At the very beginning? You and I, together for all eternity." Aro looked into Didyme's face, the likeness of which was so close to his own they were often confused for twins, into her unreadable ruby eyes, seeing her sad… tortured smile, and had not felt panic like this rise within his soul in a very long time- "Sister. What has happened?"

"I want you to kill me."

Aro swore he heard only white noise while Didyme's lips continued to move, "…-thought you ought to be the one. …Please." His sister pleaded for him to-

Aro broke out of her hold and stepped away, seeing his horror reflected in his sister's begging eyes.

"Stella! Have you lost sense!"

"I cannot take it anymore. I want it to end. Everything. To end. Right here. On this tower. Please, Beloved."

"…Stella. No."

"I thought you might desire to do it. Don't you want to? Aren't you tempted? After everything I've done to you." Didyme said and watched him with teary eyes. He had never seen so much as a wet sheen to Didi's eyes before- "Then again, I suppose you wouldn't-"

"There is nothing you could ever do which would make me take your life!" Aro viciously hissed, "Do you hear me?!Nothing!"

"Because I've already done it all! Haven't I! And here I still am after all this time. Living and breathing and killing and wrecking everyone and everything in my path because you continue to love me too fucking much."

"Stella… what has gotten into you!" His hands were grasping her shoulders, lifting a hand to her face to see what had gone so terribly wrong-

"Don't!" Didyme swatted his hand away with her white gloved one and vanished to the other side of the tower.

"I don't want you to see… all that. Never again. You've already seen everything a billion times. I don't wish you to suffer through the billion and first, if I can help it."

"Stella. Love. You are not in your right mind. Let me help you." Aro levelly pleaded while his heart was aching and terror spread through his soul because he could not shake that foreboding feeling which shouted at him that something horribly wrong was about to happen, and he slowly approached his sister only to have her disappear and appear on the other side of the tower again.

"I don't want help! I don't want to exist anymore! Don't you get that! I wish to die, please-"

"Stop this madness! Come inside with me. Please. Please, My Love." He reached for his sister, begging with his whole being for her to listen to him- "Come here. Please."

"No, Aro." Didi vanished again. "It is my time."

Aro whipped around to see Didyme standing on the other side of the tower in the empty arch he had sat inside minutes before-

"Didi. La Mia Stella. Please. Please. Please. Come inside. Please, Beloved. I beg you. Come here. …Didyme."

For the first time in forever, Didyme's tears spilled over-

"I love you, Aro."

He blurred to her over the top of the tower but she had always, always been too fast for him to catch-

-and flung herself off the ledge

And then she was falling

Fallin-

One snap of her fingers

One lone spark shooting to her long, waving white dress

Fire swallowing her whole in less than a blink

Flaming as she fell down through the darkness from the West Tower

Her body turning to silver ash

And being carried away in the cool night breeze long before his sister's flaming body could hit the ground-

And then an abyss of pain voraciously swallowed him down when their bond which had outlived civilisations dissolved into vapour and he was cut off his feet to the harsh stone ground as if he had never been anything more than a stalk of wheat in the path of a reaper's scythe.

.

Four Hundred And Sixty Four Years Later

09:09 a.m., Monday, January 10, 2005, Highway 101, Forks, Washington State

Charlie Swan was driving thirty miles per hour over the speed limit, south out of Forks, his hands shaking on the steering wheel.

From the passenger seat Bella's shyly smiling photo was mockingly staring at him.

If that motherfucker had dared touch his kid-

'I'm positive it hasn't gone further than kissing. Sister would have told me.'

He slammed his fist on the steering wheel's horn-

"BEEEEEEEEEEP!"

That fucking bitch-

'I'm positive it hasn't gone further than kissing. Sister would have told me.'

A dry sob escaped him.

'I'm positive it hasn't gone further than kissing. Sister would have told me.'

Those fucking Italian bastards.

'Isabella's father… let's just say he has never been very involved in her life… she hasn't seen him in person once in the past three years. He calls, sometimes, but…' They'd been laughing in his face the entire time-

'I'm positive it hasn't gone further than kissing. Sister would have told me.'

'Uncle stayed behind to babysit her...' Please, God.

'...tucked Isabella in exactly at midnight.' Let it not be true.

'Uncle would never get caught-' Oh, they'll fucking see about that.

'I'm positive it hasn't gone further than kissing. Sister-'

Charlie could only hope that fucking bitch had not been lying.

But it had been eighteen days since Charlie had questioned Renata Volturi at the lodge house by Lake Crescent.

Now, – twenty minutes after having the enlightening phone call with his retarded ex-wife who was currently enjoying her belated honeymoon in fucking Honolulu of all places with her new husband who was seven years her junior while their daughter had been missing for the last three weeks-

-who'd let Isabella travel all the way from Phoenix to Forks alone, without informing Charlie, – he simply could not believe that that cold blooded killer had actually given a flying fuck about Isabella's age.

Hindsight was a heartless bitch.

Both of the Volturis had been having fun. He recognised this now. They'd known who Charlie was from the first moment he'd introduced himself. Perhaps even sooner. He felt like a fool.

All those little hints and coincidental facts. Those mocking remarks...

What made it even worse was that they had not even lied. About Renée and Charlie. No matter if their lies had sounded every bit as genuine as their truths.

Charlie had been so focused on finding Tom Newton that he'd not even asked to speak to-

Charlie wiped his wet eyes.

-His kid had been crying for him not a hundred metres away in the arms of that psycho and Charlie had simply driven away-

…

…

…And it had already been eighteen days since Charlie had seen Renata and Aro Volturi at the Sinclair Lodge House.

...

15:18 p.m., Tuesday, December 28, 2004, The Cullen House at the end of David Mansfield Road, Forks, Washington

Charlie steered his police cruiser to a slow stop in front of the Cullen family residence.

He had not been here since the Cullens had moved in the empty house at the outskirts of the town, but he had been here a dozen times or so over the last five years to break up pot parties mostly organised by local teenagers and some visiting college students. The house had gained quite the rep within the town. It had never been up for sale, the owners, whoever they were before the Cullens bought it from them, had not visited once and only some of the senior citizens of Forks who had lived here their whole lives remembered a family of five who had taken up residence there for a few years way back when.

His mother and father had been seventeen years old when the young couple and their three younger brothers and sister had come to this town and had a large house built in record time. Helen and Geoffrey had always been very vague and tight-lipped about the mysterious white house at the end of Mansfield Road and the family which had lived there, whenever Charlie had asked them about it.

Billy and Harry had never gone along with Charlie's plan when he would suggest another place to spend time when the school had ended for the day. Or in the summers. They never went there together. Charlie had gotten the impression that both Billy and Harry as well as his parents had some kind of bias concerning the family and were relieved the owners had moved away and stayed moved away.

Later, when Charlie had started to work at the Forks Police Department, and had access to the archives there, he had rummaged through old case files, purely curiosity-driven, but hadn't found anything which would so much point to as to why the family had moved away. Or why no one wanted to talk about them. Even the townspeople who were not Billy or Harry or his parents. Charlie had never even succeeded in finding out the family's name.

Now, looking up at the house, Charlie could hardly recognise it.

The Cullens had transformed the spooky old stoner house into a new, sleek and most of all modern piece of architecture. But somehow it had retained its spooky aura. Even after the magical makeover. It was perfectly beautiful, the design flawless, but it did not leave the impression that people lived in there. Perhaps because it was newly renovated?

…Yes. That was the most probable explanation.

Charlie opened the cruiser's door and inhaled the fresh, crisp winter air. The snow which had fallen shortly before Christmas had not yet melted. The temperature had been holding just below freezing. The sky, however, had long since been hidden away behind the dense grey cloud cover.

He got out of the car, shut the door and began the short walk over the gravel to the Cullens' front door on which a holly wreath with a red ribbon was welcoming the family as well as unexpected guests.

Charlie pressed the doorbell.

It was eerily silent here. Not even the birds were chirping-

The door was opened by the good doctor himself. And the good doctor was dressed in a teal blue sweater and black jeans while wearing a pleasantly welcoming smile on his young face, his eyes widening a little in surprise at seeing Charlie at his door.

Charlie had always liked Dr Cullen. He was, perhaps, the best thing that had happened to Forks Community Hospital in the last hundred years. Or since the hospital's inception.

People of Forks liked him very much. Women of Forks loved him. For months talk about the new family and the incredibly good-looking new doctor was all people of Forks were talking about in 'The Lodge' when Charlie was getting his daily dinner, but...'Such a shame the handsome rich doctor was already married'. 'To a stunningly beautiful woman, no less'. The women of Forks hated her.

Perhaps for this reason the wife was never seen in town beyond those first few months when she had volunteered at a couple of local events.

Rumour had it she had applied for a vacancy at the one and only architectural firm which was based in Forks, she certainly had the credentials for it, but she had not been hired.

Rumour had it the firm's owner hadn't appreciated Mrs Cullen talking with the firm's owner's husband at the grand opening of the town's newly built public pool.

Rumour had it Mrs Cullen had landed a job as the Professor of History of Art and Architecture and as the Professor of Anthropology and Archaeology in Western Washington University in Port Angeles not long after being refused the vacant position at the firm here in Forks.

Point being, Charlie had always liked Dr Cullen. But that was before he knew that the good doctor was related to that bloody Italian killer. You couldn't choose your family, Charlie knew this, he still liked the young doctor but even while knowing this, it had left a permanent mark on how he viewed Dr Cullen. A permanent taint.

"Chief Swan. This is a pleasant surprise." Dr Cullen said in a perfectly polite and at the same time friendly tone.

Charlie gave him a small smile. "Hello, Dr Cullen. May I come in?"

"...Certainly, Chief." Dr Cullen opened the door wider, steeping back into the house and beckoning Charlie to enter. Charlie did, but he was still plagued by the uneasy feeling that no one was inside the house. A feeling which was obviously completely unfounded and false.

"What brings you to our home today?" The young doctor curiously asked as he led Charlie further inside the house through a brightly lit hallway which was decorated with detailed sketches of world famous architectural buildings.

Charlie's staring did not go unnoticed, "They're my wife's. She never leaves the house without her sketchbook, especially when travelling." Dr Cullen warmly said when he looked back to see why Charlie was not following and saw Charlie paying closer attention to the pictures. Charlie could tell in an instant that the young doctor was completely besotted with his wife. Ah… the wonders of young love.

"They're beautiful." Charlie truthfully voiced. They really were. Dr Cullen's wife was very talented.

"Thank you. I'll be sure to pass the compliment along to Esme."

"She's not here?"

"I'm afraid not. Esme's celebrating with her work colleagues and a close family friend in a ski resort in Portland this year." Dr Cullen smoothly replied. As if his wife not being home for the entire Christmas holidays was not a big deal.

The young doctor mirthfully grinned, "Someone needed to stay behind and watch the kids."

Charlie coughed a badly masked laugh. "I see."

They had finally reached the living room, by the looks of it, where two teenagers were playing a video game on the floor to the far left by a bookshelf which covered the whole expanse of the wall and was filled with books from top to bottom. It was about five metres high. Charlie saw no ladder.

The game on the TV screen was paused and the two 'boys' turned their heads back to look at Charlie.

"I believe I have not yet had the opportunity to introduce my sons to you, Chief Swan." Carlisle said by his right shoulder.

The 'boys', which looked very much like grown men to Charlie, instead of teens, dutifully got to their feet and came closer. Both had extremely pale skin and strikingly good-looking faces.

"This is Emmett." Carlisle nodded to a very stocky young man in excellent physical shape and who was a few inches taller than Charlie and had deep brown hair, honey coloured eyes and a cocky grin.

"Chief Swan. Are you here to take us away? I swear we have no knowledge about those bear traps. Or the Snicker bars placed inside them."

Charlie blinked.

"I have no idea what you are talking about." Charlie flatly replied just as the shorter and leaner adolescent whipped his head incredulously at his adopted brother- "The fuck, dude."

Charlie refused to believe he was only eighteen years old. That either of them was only eighteen years old. Impossible.

"Emmett! What in the Lord's name!" Carlisle yelped. "What bear traps?! Chief Swan. I have no idea what Emmett is talking about." Dr Cullen hurried to assure Charlie. He sounded genuinely thrown.

"Please. Don't listen to this idiot, Chief Swan." The leaner man, who without the slightest doubt was a lady-killer, said in a slight southern drawl while turning back to look at Charlie with a disarming smile on his handsome face, "Jasper Hale," and offered his hand for Charlie to shake. Charlie reluctantly agreed. But he had enough shaking of cold, hard hands for at least the next decade.

Charlie's initial impression of Dr Cullen's blond-haired son was not a good one. He vaguely reminded Charlie of that Italian bastard. Because he was dangerous. His hand, however was not nearly as chilly as that killer's had been. It was only slightly cool and while he had a tight grip it was nowhere near as tight as Renata's had been.

"If any bear traps will be discovered in Clallam or Jefferson Counties, you'll be in a world of trouble, young man." Charlie threatened only half-jokingly.

"Understood, Chief Swan." Emmett grinned.

"Right…" Charlie sceptically murmured.

"Chief Swan," Dr Cullen drew Charlie's attention, "I'm certain there is no need for alarm. Because there are no bear traps. Right, Emmett? Come, let us sit down," the good doctor led Charlie to the kitchen while the 'boys' went back past a fancy glass table surrounded by three leather sofas to their paused game.

"May I offer you anything to drink?" The Cullens' kitchen was spotless. Shiny and sterile. Charlie supposed it could be attributed to the doctor's professional habit of keeping his work surroundings surgically clean, even if it was only his kitchen, not an operating room.

"Uh. I'm good, Dr Cullen. There's no need-"

"Are you sure?" Dr Cullen retrieved two glass bottles of Barq's root beer from the fridge and set them on the kitchen island.

"…Alright."

Dr Cullen effortlessly popped off the cap of one of the bottles with his thumbnail and slid it closer to Charlie as both of them sat down around the island. "Thanks."

"So… what can I help you with, Chief Swan?" Dr Cullen asked as he pried off the cap of his own bottle by simply twisting it off and quickly disposed of both caps. One would think a surgeon would be slightly more fearful about damaging his hands, but apparently there was no cause for concern because the good doctor's hands had not suffered any visible damage.

Charlie wrapped his hands around the cool glass and looked up at the young doctor, "I suppose you have already heard about Thomas Newton's disappearance?"

Dr Cullen blinked, his light countenance dimming a little as he lowered his honey gaze to his own Barq's bottle, "I have. The nurses at the hospital were talking about it yesterday. As did Doctor Child. She's good friends with Karen."

Charlie watched the young doctor for any sign that he knew anything more about Tom's disappearance, but Charlie honestly could not tell in he did.

"Has there been any sign-" Dr Cullen's head whipped up, "No… Please tell me you did not find- You're not here to request an autopsy, are you? I've been informed Dr Ross has appointed me as his substitute until-"

"No, no." Charlie hastily assured the distraught doctor. Charlie would have called. Not came here himself if that were the case. "We haven't found Tom yet. …Or his body." Charlie should have considered before visiting the Cullens that Mr Newton was most probably Dr Cullen's patient, given his errant heart.

"…Oh." Dr Cullen said in relief, but immediately his expression shifted to puzzlement.

"On December 23rd – the day Tom failed to return home – the station received an anonymous tip about a car speeding away from where Tom's truck was later found, abandoned by the side of the road."

"Anonymous tip?" Carlisle took a sip from his bottle and Charlie remembered he had one himself which he promptly lifted to his mouth and took a sip of the bitter soda himself.

"Yeah. Some bloke with a fake Spanish accent calling from a burner phone."

"How… peculiar."

Charlie heard distant sniggering from the living room.

"Well, this tip led me to question Renata Volturi on the twenty-forth. She had been the one driving on that road in a red Maserati. I hoped perhaps she had seen something which might help…" Charlie trailed off, lazily watching Dr Cullen who had gained a slightly rounder eyes than usual. Why was that? Interesting. "While I questioned her and her uncle-" Dr Cullen's expression did not change, but the grip on his root beer bottle tightened, "-they led me to believe they were here, in the peninsula, because they were visiting your family, Dr Cullen."

"Khm, yes. They were. A very unexpected visit. I hadn't seen Renata and Aro in quite some time." Dr Cullen said while taking another drink from the bottle.

"Only them? And Renata's sister?" Charlie lightly prompted, causing the young doctor to pause for a bit before hastily swallowing.

"…you mean Isabella. Of course. No, I had not met her before."

"Mr Volturi said they had needed to leave soon after arriving here on the twenty-third because your son, Edward, had a seizure and needed to be sedated." Dr Cullen was mutely gaping at Charlie while hearty belly laughter echoed from the living room. All the way to the kitchen. Charlie chose to pretend he did not hear it. "How is he?"

"He's… better. …Thank you for asking."

"I'm aware you are not required to report epilepsy or any seizures, Dr Cullen, but I must insist that your son does not drive for the next six months." The laughter from the living room became increasingly louder. "And that no recurrent seizures happen during this period of time."

"Of course, Chief Swan. You have my word. I wouldn't have let Edward drive anyway." Charlie seriously doubted that. "He hasn't experienced a… seizure in years."

"I see. But my point still stands."

The stocky 'teenager' casually entered the kitchen and headed to the fridge.

"Can I talk to Edward? To make sure he really understands how important this is," Charlie requested. He'd found out long ago that teenagers were much more susceptible to being threatened into complying by the police than by their parents.

"I'm afraid-"

"Father shipped Eddie to a private clinic in Norway." Emmett offhandedly said as he opened the fridge and took out two root beer bottles. "He's getting better as we speak," Emmett flashed a shit-eating grin to Charlie and danced out of the kitchen.

"Is everything a joke to you?" Carlisle exasperatedly called after his son's retreating back while rubbing his forehead with the top of his palm.

"Norway, huh?" Now this was interesting.

"They have a wonderful clinic in Bergen, Chief Swan." The good doctor quietly, seriously said, "They will be able to do far more for Edward there than I or any hospital in the vicinity ever could, back here in the States."

Charlie knew he most likely had a rather disbelieving expression on his face but Dr Cullen should understand that this was a very baffling thing to hear. Very baffling indeed.

"It's all very temporary. A few weeks. Until he gets the help he needs. I'll be sure to take Edward's keys away, Chief Swan, when he gets back home." Dr Cullen tightly smiled.

The Cullens were weirdos too. Good to know.

And the longer they spoke the more uncomfortable the good doctor seemed to become.

"I… Why are you- What's this really about, Chief Swan?" Dr Cullen cautiously asked.

"I volunteered to lend a helping hand to the Port Angeles Police Department as they've been invaluable help with the search for Tom."

Dr Cullen was patiently listening to him, "I'm not sure you've heard, but on Christmas Eve, during a Christmas Carolling event at the Queen of Angels church in Port Angeles, a little girl died. Four years old. In seconds. Without any apparent cause." Dr Cullen had not known this. Alright.

"The coroner's report had 'Sudden and extreme exposure to low atmospheric pressure' listed as the cause of death. She was the only one affected while sitting next to her parents in a room full of four hundred other people."

"That's… impossible." Dr Cullen said with a deep frown.

"Don't we know it." Charlie tapped the kitchen island's surface and looked back into the doctor's face.

"The Department's been tracking down everyone who were present at the concert and taking statements. They'd been able to track down everyone except for Aro and Renata Volturi and Renata's sister Isabella, who were seen sitting only two rows behind Amanda Fisher and her parents."

Where before the doctor's expression was more or less neutral, the young doctor seemed to become truly confused. But his light honey colour eyes had gradually lost their brightness.

"Renata's sister had expressed a wish to listen to live carols on Christmas Eve. They – Aro, Renata and Bella – had agreed on going to a church the next evening." Dr Cullen quietly revealed while Charlie was yet again unpleasantly reminded of his daughter.

"Bella."

"…Yes. She said she prefers Bella." Dr Cullen said to his half empty bottle. "Did you meet her, Chief Swan?" ...What strange thing to ask.

"She was skating somewhere on Crescent among the crowd. I talked only with Mr Volturi and Renata. Should I have?"

"Oh. Not particularly, no. She was quite upset at seeing Edward… like that." Dr Cullen explained, lifting his strangely coloured eyes to meet Charlie's, "I just hope she was not still upset by it."

"I imagine her uncle was quick to offer a shoulder to cry on." By Dr Cullen's startled expression Charlie knew he had hit jackpot. Charlie lightly snorted and drank a bit more of the cool soda before explaining further.

"The deputies of Port Angeles Police Department went to question the Volturis last Sunday, but they were long gone from the Sinclair Lodge House by then. Mr Volturi had said they planned on staying until the New Year, when I asked them about it last week. I find it odd they would leave so soon."

"Yes, they had planned on staying at least for a week. Initially. Closer to two weeks, in fact. Unfortunately, they were called back to Italy prematurely. Trouble at home."

"Hmm. The deputies tried calling the number Mr Volturi left the Sinclairs but it cannot be reached anymore. Nor can Renata Volturi's phone number after some bloke named…" Charlie racked his memory for the name- "Caius answered my call and started cursing Ms Volturi in colourful Italian before hanging up."

Dr Cullen's face did a complicated set of micro expressions Charlie could not follow but which most definitely had started with amusement and most definitely ended in a grimace.

"That would be Aro's brother. He's… got a temper."

Charlie had been able to tell as much himself.

"And your cousin - Aro?"

"My cousin?" Dr Cullen asked, seemingly bemused. Something was not right here-

"Yes."

"Aro's… got a temper as well. But it takes a lot more to set him off." Dr Cullen pensively divulged while taking another sip. If Charlie did not know better, he would be convinced Dr Cullen's root beer bottle was of endless volume capacity. "Most of the time, you'd be hard pressed to find a more high-spirited person than Aro."

"And the rest of the time?"

"It's a long and hard fall from those high-spirits, Chief Swan."

"You make him sound almost human."

The good doctor's head whipped from the almost empty soda bottle in his hands to Charlie's face and let out a string of quiet, mirthful chuckles.

"Never let him hear you say that. I can't think of an insult that would offend my cousin more."

"So… he's bipolar?"

"Chief Swan." Dr Cullen leaned back from the table, uncomfortable again, "I won't put labels on my friends." Which was as good as confirmation.

"He's the smartest person I know. Such brilliance always comes with a cost." Dr Cullen fished out his phone from his jeans pocket, pressed a few buttons and turned the display for Charlie to see. "Is this the same number you tried calling?" And sure enough the exact same number the Sinclairs had provided to Deputies Maya and Jose were in clear view under the contact name 'Aro'.

"Yep. That's the one."

"I'm sorry. I don't have another one. Well. His brother's."

And sure enough under the contact name 'Caius' was the same number which Renata had penned down on his wrist. Lovely woman.

"Will you let them know we wish to talk to them, next time they contact you?" Charlie felt he was obliged to ask, but knowing full well the chance of either of them voluntarily contacting Charlie or the Port Angeles Police Department was slim to none.

"Of course, Chief Swan." Dr Cullen easily agreed. "I'll let them know."

The young father looked to his right at the lone and strikingly childish drawing of a badger which was stuck on the metallic fridge door by white, round magnets, "Such a tragic death. In a church of all places. I cannot dare to fathom what her parents must be going through right now."

"Yeah." To lose a child like that? It was every parent's worst nightmare. And to add insult to injury, it happened while all the gathered people in the church were listening to "…Coventry Carol." Charlie mumbled, shaking his head, and drank the last of his root beer.

"Pardon?"

"The Coventry Carol. It was being sung by the choir when the girl was ki- died. Shook very many people."

"…I imagine it must have." Dr Cullen whispered, suddenly looking so tragically world-weary and saddened that Charlie got a peculiar hunch that Dr Cullen had realised something about the case Charlie had not-

"Khm… Many people claimed they saw your cousin crying for close to half an hour up until the girl's passing." Charlie reluctantly shared. He was not even sure why he did it, "Then their attention fully shifted to the child and they didn't remember seeing Mr Volturi or his nieces again."

"…what?" The good doctor look shocked. And deeply perturbed. Worried. So, so worried. For that bastard-

"Yeah." Charlie uncomfortably shifted on his chair. "Everyone in the church who had seen him cry kept calling him the 'Weeping Angel'."

...

Charlie did not know what to make of that fucking child abductor crying his eyes out while listening to children singing carols (nor did he want to find out). Or the fact he had not been smited on sight upon entering the church-

After, on the same evening as the Christmas Carolling Murder, when the Port Angeles Police Department had been robbed and sensitive video evidence permanently destroyed, the footage of the city's street surveillance and that of most local business entities had been wiped as well. The last two weeks of footage - gone.

In one evening they'd lost the material evidence of several investigations, including Thomas Newton's disappearance, Amanda Fisher's death and... and street CCTV footage of the 'three' Volturis outside 'Port Book and News' bookshop… and that of Forks. And hadn't that been fantastic to wake up to – the news that Forks had been caught in the same attack. They – the Port Angeles Police Department – had tried finding the guilty parties but they'd had no leads to go on from. Same for his own station in Forks.

But Charlie was certain it had been the Volturis.

Now more than ever.

In order to destroy the evidence of his daughter's kidnapping.

Even if the scope of the damage was impossible to have been accomplished just by the two of them, because apart from Forks and Port Angeles' systems having been hacked by someone even Seattle Cyber Crime Division had not been able to trace, there was monstrous quantity of deleted data and stolen hardware. It was simply impossible for two or three or ten people to have done this in a span of a few hours. It was impossible. But it had been done.

The Data Wipe had shaken everyone who knew about it.

All they had been left with were their memories. And the things they had written down and put somewhere well out of sight.

But not the Olympic Medical Center.

That place had been wiped down with diligence and clinical precision.

It should have been a major red flag but after the Data Wipe, they'd been so derailed-

It should have been a major red flag at once, when Port Angeles Police Department deputies had gone to question the Volturis two days later about the death of four year old Amanda Fisher, but upon arriving at the Sinclair's lodge house, had found it empty. And spotless. Wiped down.

According to the Sinclairs, everything had been left in order (well, except for twenty-seven wine bottles which had vanished from their wine cellar, but according to the older couple, that motherfucker (Mr Volturi) had called and thanked them for the lovely accommodations, informed them that some kind of trouble at home had unfortunately 'beckoned them back to Italy', and apologised for pilfering their wine cellar).

Later, a couple of days after Deputies Maya and Jose had questioned the Sinclairs, Charlie had talked with (interrogated) Olive and Francis Sinclair himself but they had not been exactly cross with that fucker. Just the contrary. Apparently, that fucking alcoholic had fully covered the cost of those bottles minutes before calling the older couple and telling his goodbyes.

Charlie liked the Sinclairs. He really did. And after what happened to Tony... they'd had it rough. Charlie understood. But they did not have a single bad thing to say about those Italian bastards. Just the same as Mr Donnelly. Charlie grudgingly accepted that they would be of no help to him or to the Port Angeles Police Department.

Just the same as Doctor Brooke Woodstenhulme.

Charlie had gone to the Olympic Medical Center on the second of January to question the doctor who had set… his daughter's… broken arm after Undersheriff Fitzsimmons had called him to relay his suspicions about Renata and Isabella not in fact being sisters. Of course they fucking weren't! Fitzsimmons hadn't had any photos printed before the Data Wipe but he remembered how the 'youngest of the sisters' had been taken to the hospital and that her arm had been set into a splint when she'd been led out of the hospital. It had all been a tad too soap-opera-ish for Charlie's liking but he had gone to talk to the doctor anyway.

...

"Have you by chance heard of something called 'doctor-patient confidentiality', Chief Swan?" Dr Woodstenhulme asked.

She had brought Charlie up to her office on the second floor of the hospital.

Doctor Brooke Woodstenhulme was a very beautiful woman. In her early forties. Dark curly hair and dark brown eyes. And also very married, judging by the band on her left ring finger-

"I have, Doctor. I'm not asking for Isabella's medical file or her medical history. I simply wanted to know if there was anything you could recall about the couple which were accompanying her when she had been brought in here. And your view of the relationship between the three of them. …They are persons of interest in an ongoing murder investigation."

Dr Woodstenhulme coolly judged Charlie for several long moments.

"Alright. But I will not disclose any sensitive medical information to you, Chief. Not without a warrant."

"Thank y-"

"This conversation is strictly off the record. I'm not giving a statement."

First Mr Donnelly, now Dr Woodstenhulme…

"I understand. One might be required later on in the course of the investigation, however. Or it might not."

"Until then, Chief Swan." Dr Woodstenhulme gave Charlie a crooked, slightly amused smile. "Ask your questions." Dr Woodstenhulme- Brooke (her surname was a mouthful) leaned back in her chair.

"What can you tell me about the girl – Isabella – who was brought in on December 22? I've been informed by Undersheriff Fitzsimmons of Port Angeles Police Department that she'd fallen down the stairs in a bookshop here in the city."

"Yes. I remember the girl. She was brought in with a broken arm. Unconscious."

"Did you suspect foul play?"

"You mean whether someone pushed her down the stairs?"

Charlie vaguely nodded.

"No. I did not."

"And the woman who rode together with her in the back of the ambulance?" Charlie asked. "Could she have-"

"No, no. Chief Swan, she was very upset. Scared, even."

"Scared."

"Yes."

"For her sister?"

Dr Brooke took a moment to answer.

"Yes. But not only that. I'd gotten the impression that she had been instructed to look after the girl."

"By her uncle. Aro Volturi."

"Correct."

"Was the girl's full name Isabella Volturi?"

"I have so many patients, Chief Swan. I don't remember their names. But yes. I believe the girl could have been named Isabella. Her surname, however, was not Volturi. That much I do recall."

"Interesting. The department has been informed about the hack on the systems here, as well as the theft inside the hospital-"

"Everything in gone, Chief Swan. The last two weeks. Erased. As well as any hard copies of patient files. The hospital has reported the theft, as you said."

"Any notes?" It was a long shot-

"I'm afraid not. Everything's gone. Patient files, I mean. And the visitor journals at the receptionist's desk. The thief had not been interested in anything else. A colleague of mine had been keeping a diamond ring in a red velvet box in the top drawer of his desk, worth a quarter million. He'd been waiting for the right moment to propose, you see. And the top, second and third drawers had held patient files."

Charlie rubbed his forehead, "All the files had gone missing except for the ring, I take it?"

"Exactly. He was very relieved. Took it as a sign and proposed the same day."

"Right…" So the thief had no need for material gain. "What else can you tell about the couple? And the girl."

Dr Brooke sighed.

"Mr Volturi joined us about half an hour after the girl was brought in. …The girl had a crush on him."

"Aro Volturi."

Dr Brooke nodded again.

"You know who he is, don't you." Charlie shrewdly observed.

"I do." Was her clipped answer. Lovely. "Valerian Incorporated is one of our biggest benefactors."

Was there anyone left who was not already bought by those criminals?

"He was very good with her, Chief Swan." Dr Brooke added. "She was talking embarrassing nonsense because of the painkillers… he knew just the right things to say to calm her down. I had to give her morphine for pain relief. The hospital had her medical file here." Charlie perked up, "Had – Chief Swan. Morphine was the only strong painkiller on site to which she was not allergic to."

Charlie frowned. Just the same as his daughter. Bella was allergic to quite many painkillers. It had made her frequent visits to hospital all the more stressful because of this.

"It's not a bad option, Chief Swan. Contrary to popular belief, properly dosed morphine is not as addictive as mainstream propaganda would have you believe. It's relatively safe. Even for children."

"I've no doubts Mr Volturi would have any problem with keeping an eye on how much Isabella is taking."

"…Right." Charlie gruffed to Dr Brooke's desk.

"I wish every parent were as good with their children as Mr Volturi was with Isabella." The doctor candidly added.

"Is this how you'd describe their relationship, Doctor?"

"No. Just that Mr Volturi definitely have children himself. Not Isabella. You said she was his niece?"

"That's right."

"I highly doubt that."

Charlie's eyes narrowed.

"Could you elaborate? Please."

"A friend's daughter perhaps? The girl was American. Did not look anything like the Volturis. Not sure what else I can tell you."

"And Mr Volturi?"

"It has become quite clear to me in the course of this conversation that you have met Mr Volturi yourself. And that you did not like him. You must understand, Chief Swan. Valerian Incorporated only exists because of Mr Volturi and his brother. They've helped millions of people since its foundation in 1979. Hundreds of millions, Chief Swan. It's one of the very few corporations within the medical field which truly have people's health in mind. Good health. You will not find a sympathetic ear with anyone they've helped."

"Even if they are criminals?"

"We're done here, Chief Swan. You can let yourself out." Dr Woodstenhulme curtly nodded to the door.

...

After that lovely chat Charlie had tried digging up everything he was able to find about Valerian Incorporated founders.

He had not found much.

Valerian Inc. had been founded by Aro and Caius Volturi in 1979.

Caius Volturi was born in 1960.

Aro Volturi in 1957. That bastard was forty-seven years old. Charlie found it hard and at the same time very easy to believe.

None of them had a criminal record here in the States. Or in Italy. Or Europe. Or anywhere else as far as his and the Port Angeles Police Department's investigations had discovered. None of the Volturi family had a single speeding ticket. They were squeaky clean. Impossible.

Apparently, Aro Volturi had two children. Their names and ages were unknown.

Caius Volturi did not have any children. Which contradicted Mr Volturi's claim about the company's heirs. But given the scarce information, especially about Aro Volturi's children, Charlie would not be surprised that it was simply not public knowledge. Yet. Perhaps Caius' daughter was very young. Some people chose to keep their kids secret from the world as long as they were able. To keep them safe. So that they did not get kidnapped-

Charlie's hands cramped around the steering wheel, causing it to give up a pained creak in protest-

The good doctor had said that the Volturis had been unexpected guests.

Charlie did not know when or where those two killers had met his daughter but according to his retarded ex-wife, Bella had been flying from Phoenix to San Francisco where she had intended to transfer to a flight to Seattle. And from there take a bus to Forks.

They could have met during one of the flights. On a plane. Or in an airport. It was certainly possible and likely what had happened.

Charlie could practically see in his mind's eye the two Volturis offering to take Bella along to Forks with them, if they had, for some to Charlie incomprehensible reason found out they were all heading to Forks. Charlie could not understand why they would do something like that. Nobody did that.

But Charlie had no illusions those two were not capable of sweet talking practically anyone, if they wanted to. And for all that Bella was a smart kid, she was not good with people.

Charlie doubted Bella would have told them as much as they seemed to know about her. His daughter wasn't that chatty. She wasn't. Even if she had a crush on-

Charlie sucked in a sharp breath and focused on taking the sharp turn to the well hidden Mansfield road.

The doctor had said she'd been drugged. God only knew what she'd revealed during those hours.

But the fucking worst thing was the covetous look in that killer's hellish eyes.

Renata had said her uncle cared for her 'sister'.

That may be true. Charlie hoped it was true. That Bella was still alive. Unhurt.

And this was why Charlie was driving to the Cullens.

Charlie knew Dr Cullen or his wife, if she was currently home – if either of them were home on a Monday morning – and had been at home when those Italian bastards had dragged his daughter with them to the Cullens' house, could identify Bella by her photo.

She'd been there.

Charlie was certain of it.

His intuition did not lie.

It was a much shorter trip to the Cullens than to the hospital in Port Angeles. Charlie had called Undersheriff Fitzsimmons first but he had been informed that the undersheriff was investigating another case somewhere in the Olympic National Park. No computers, no phones and no internet. Getting in touch with the hospital would take a while. And Charlie was not their favourite person at the moment.

So the Cullens it was. The children should be at school. But it was very likely Dr Cullen or his wife was home.

At least Charlie was counting on it.

.

09:09 a.m., Monday, January 10, 2005, The Cullen House at the end of David Mansfield Road, Forks, Washington

Carlisle had come to love Monday mornings.

Anticipate them.

The 'children' were off to school until four in the afternoon; his night shift had ended at six in the morning as usual; his wife did not have to give lectures on Mondays. All of which meant they had eight precious hours all to themselves.

Life was good sounded through his head like a mantra while he was relishing in the feeling of being at the absolute mercy of his amazing wife who was currently carding her fingers through his hair with unparalleled skill while his head was laid in her lap.

Life was good.

He'd been approached by the Quileute shifter Sam Uley while Carlisle had been out hunting near the treaty line on Christmas Day and politely (as much as Sam had been able, which had really meant asking without barely crossing the invisible line of becoming flat out rude) requested that in future he be informed when any other friends of theirs were intending to visit and to brief those friends about not crossing the treaty line or against preying on the tribe's people again.

Sam had been far more cautious and subdued than ever when talking to Carlisle. Certainly far more than he had been the first and last time a few months after they had moved here from Alberta.

Carlisle could not understand why. By all means the shifter should have been foaming at the mouth after he'd surely been told in explicit detail by his girlfriend about Aro feeding from her in Port Angeles. And what were the chances of Aro having run into Sam Uley's girlfriend in Port Angeles? It was such an incredibly, astronomically slim possibility. Frankly, it sounded ridiculous. But sometimes life played such cruel jokes that the absurdly unlikely happenstances were later on never believed to by others who had not been there and witnessed or lived through those ridiculous coincidences themselves.

It was strange not having inside knowledge of what Sam had been thinking at the time. Carlisle had grimly realised that they (he) had been relying on Edward's gift far too much, if the difference could be felt so acutely.

Carlisle had agreed (after Carlisle had elicited a reluctant oath from the shifter-wolf to warn off any trespassing vampires by giving them the chance to peacefully leave, regardless of their eye colour, before trying to rip them apart). Carlisle squashed the small voice at the back of his mind that tried to whisper to him that vampires were a vengeful kind and that they never forgot and that when the Volturi will let the word travel about the dangers of the Olympic Peninsula, it was very possible those vampires whose loved ones had gone missing around the area would come looking for 'answers'-

Life was good.

Life was good.

He had always loved Esme's attic studio. All that light, shining through the eighteen skylights built into each slope of the gable roof above them. On them. And on the pitch black ebony floor they were currently settled down on.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Esme softly asked from above him.

"I was thinking that life is good." Carlisle opened his eyes to find Esme's warm gold ones gazing down in his own, "And that I love you." Esme's lips curled up into an adoring smile and she leaned her head down and drew him into a deep upside down kiss.

"I love you too, honey." Esme breathed on his lips and then put a kiss on the tip of his nose before straightening back up and continuing to run her lovely fingers through his hair.

It felt like floating on a cloud, blissfully surrounded by Esme's lovely mock orange scent.

He could spend whole days just lying like this. Weeks. Months. Y-

"How was your shift?"

"Boring. But it was good boring. Aro sent me another batch of their research projects. Some prospective ones as well. I could spend all night reading them, practically undisturbed. …I think he is trying to tempt me into joining one of their hospitals, if not their research labs."

"Perhaps he is." Esme teased, smiling. "And? Is he succeeding?"

"He is." Carlisle laughed. "I feel like I'm being tempted by the devil."

"And? Will you let yourself be snared in by his courting gifts, Carly?" Esme mirthfully sang.

"Argh! Not you too! I already have to suffer through Emmett's endless jokes and taunts. He's getting bolder." Carlisle felt like complaining so he complained for he should not be suffering through such harassment in his own home. "Do you know what he asked me yesterday? In front of everyone?"

"Tell me."

"If Aro was my first kiss!" Carlisle hissed. "Can you believe him!"

Esme bit her bottom lip, her mouth turning into an even larger grin.

"Noooo… The audacity!" Esme dramatically exclaimed.

"It's getting way out of line."

"How did he find out?" Her voice was layered with such thick compassion-

"Aro was not my first kiss! You're just as bad as Emmett." Carlisle grumbled. A moment later he heavily sighed, "Edward."

"Oh, dear."

"He's being petty. Because I sent him to Tanya and took away all of his car keys."

"He feels unjustly punished. He'll come around, love."

"He's so unreasonable. Sometimes I wonder if he even wants to grow up-"

His eyes flew open the moment Carlisle's ears became aware of the sound of a rapidly approaching vehicle on their driveway aka David Mansfield road. Esme's wonderful hands ceased their movements in his hair and a light frown clouded her face.

An elevated heartbeat was drumming from within the loud car.

Carlisle pulled himself up from the floor and so did Esme. They quickly moved to the window which provided an amazing view to the driveway, the lawn in front of the house, the surrounding dark green spruce forest and saw a police cruiser come to an abrupt halt just below the front stairs of the porch and a few seconds later Charlie Swan leapt out of the car and rushed up the few steps to their door.

The doorbell rang.

Carlisle's eyes met Esme's.

"This cannot be anything good." Carlisle needlessly muttered right before they left the attic studio and rapidly descended to the ground level and walked to the front door while the doorbell kept on ringing.

Esme stayed a few feet back while he opened the door to let in Chief Swan. The man did not look well. He looked crushed, seriously shaken by something. …Something truly awful must have happened-

"Chief Swan?"

"Dr Cullen! You're home. Thank God." The sheriff sounded relieved. Carlisle noticed he was feverishly clutching a piece of white paper in his hands.

Carlisle stepped back to let Charlie walk in past him, "Sorry for barging in here like th- Oh. Hello, Mrs Cullen." Their sheriff greeted in surprise after he quickly stepped inside the house.

"Good morning, Chief Swan." Esme cordially greeted back, "Or maybe not such a good morning after all?"

"No. It definitely isn't." Charlie desperately agreed. A little angrily as well.

Carlisle carefully closed the door. He was not stalling-

"Mrs Cullen, were you here when the Volturis visited before Christmas?" Chief Swan hopefully asked. Carlisle did not like the implications of that question.

"I was. But I don't believe whatever has you looking so haggard should be discussed in our foyer, Chief. Please, come, sit down." Esme led them to the living room.

Esme lightly steered Charlie to sit down on one of the sofas around her glass table and promptly settled down on the opposite sofa where Carlisle joined his wife.

"Haggard. That's a nice way to put it." The sheriff humourlessly remarked as he dropped his car keys to the glass table but was still tightly clutching the paper to his chest. It was a photograph. But Carlisle could not see what was printed on the other side which was held close to the sheriff's white sweater. Carlisle realised the Chief had turned up without his uniform. He was dressed in house clothes. Carlisle had a feeling he would not like where this was goin-

"The girl. Which was here with the Volturis. Isabella." Carlisle felt like a bucket of scalding water was emptied on his head and hoped it did not show. For her credit, Esme did not react in any visibly perceptible way (either).

"What- What can you tell me about her?" Charlie was looking into both their faces with thinly masked desperation. "You said you hadn't met her before, Dr Cullen."

Carlisle knew this would happen.

He had been lulled into a false sense of security the more time passed and the ill-anticipated Amber Alert was never issued for Bella.

"No. I had not met her before. Truthfully, I had no idea Aro had another niece." Carlisle helpfully replied.

This was not so bad. Not so bad-

"Didn't you find it odd, Dr Cullen?"

"Well… It certainly was a little surprising, but considering I had met Renata only a couple times before I moved from Italy to New York seven years ago-" Carlisle bluffed. He had no idea what bullshit Aro and Renata had told Charlie Swan. Damn those two cunning, lying, mischievous bastards! "-it wasn't out of the realm of possibility."

"Why are you interested in Isabella, Chief Swan?" Esme kindly asked from his right. "Is she in some kind of trouble?"

Charlie covered his mouth with his left hand which was not clutching the very interesting photograph. And suddenly with a sinking feeling in his gut Carlisle realised whose photo it was. Charlie rubbed the hand over his face and then ran his fingers though his messed up dark brown curls.

"Was Isabella okay? When she was here." The sheriff quietly asked.

"She was fine, Chief Swan." Esme assured. "A bit shy and nervous at first but she was cracking jokes for a while before Edward's epilepsy attack."

"And her arm?" With these three words Charlie Swan demolished any hope of Carlisle that they will not get fully dragged into the mess Aro and Renata had created by kidnapping a minor and left behind for Carlisle to deal with. The sheriff knew about her arm. It was very possible Chief Swan had visited the hospital to which Isabella had been taken after her unfortunate fall and had talked with someone there. Or had seen something Port Angeles video surveillance had caught. Mainly Isabella's short-lived broken arm. If they lied and said she had a broken arm when they had seen Bella, it would look bad, them not mentioning it earlier, but definitely not as bad as outright denying it.

"She had her left arm in a splint, yes." Carlisle said without any delay, "They had stopped for a bit in Port Angeles before they had intended on arriving in Forks. Bella said she was in a bookshop and accidentally dropped the books which were in her hands and fell down the stairs, after she tripped over them."

Chief Swan nodded. Carlisle noticed the sheriff's chocolate brown eyes had slowly become covered with a wet sheen. He drew in a sniffle and looked down to the photo- Chocolate eyes? Carlisle had seen those same exact colour eyes on-

"Is this her?"

The sheriff finally revealed the photograph by leaning forward and placing it on the table in front of Carlisle and Esme. It was definitely Bella. Perhaps a slightly younger version of her, if Carlisle had to guess, sitting on the lawn, Chief Swan's blue-grey house clearly visible in the background, and smiling shyly at the camera, an open book in her hands. The photo had clearly been taken out of a photo frame.

Carlisle could not believe-

How could Aro do this to him-

Carlisle could not believe he had missed this-

HOW THE FUCK COULD HE HAVE MISSED SOMETHING LIKE THIS. NO. THIS EXACT THING

He vaguely registered how his wife placed her hand on his knee and applied considerable pressure while she slowly leaned to take Bella's photograph from the table.

'It was supposed to be a surprise, you see. My coming to see him for Christmas. He is expecting for me to arrive only mid-January.'

'The doctor who set my arm almost got the CPS involved. The only reason he didn't was because my dad's a cop.'

'You might even give your ballerina career another go now, my Odette.'

'Your Odile, more like, as I would be liable to eating all the other swans by the end of Act Three.'

'My Black Swan.'

All those Swan Lake metaphors. Aro was such a despicable bastard-

'I promise there will not be another missing person in Forks or its vicinity other than Mr Newton while we stay here.'

While we stay here. That fucking evil Italian vampire-

…

Those fucking Italian bastards kidnapped the daughter of the Forks Chief of Police.

…

Aro and Renata likely knew who she was from the fucking start.

…

They could not lie.

Carlisle and Esme could not lie.

"My daughter's missing. For the last twenty days. Her mother let her fly alone from Arizona-"

Chief Swan would see right through them.

There were too many coincidences.

There was a mountain of coincidences, all of which pointed to the same exact conclusion.

And what were the chances of Aro and Renata meeting Charlie Swan's – Forks Chief of Police's – daughter in a San Francisco airport…?

Bella had already been heading to Seattle. To Forks. They probably offered (insisted, a small voice corrected him) to take her along with them.

Lord.

Carlisle vaguely recognised that he was quietly panicking.

And while he was panicking he could tell Esme was not shocked by this turn of events in the least. Namely, the fact that Bella was Charlie Swan's daughter. When had she realised?

"My daughter Isabella should have arrived here on the twenty-second of December. She never did-"

Carlisle dreaded to imagine what kind of mess awaited him and his family in a few short hours. All that spotlight. The investigations, interrogations, the police would probably get a judge to issue a search warrant or ten to search the house-

They'd be questioned about their connection to the Volturi-

No, they could not tell the truth-

They could not draw such attention to themselves or to the Volturi-

They needed to buy time to disappear, however short time it should turn out to be.

"I'm very sorry about your daughter, Chief Swan." His wife said with such heartfelt compassion, even Carlisle would have believed her, if he was currently not drowning in panic and didn't know better. "I hope you'll find her, but I've never seen this girl before," Esme put Bella's photo back on the table.

Esme sounded so genuinely sorry.

Charlie Swan froze. "…What."

"This is not the girl who was here with Carlisle's cousins. This is not Renata's sister."

Charlie stared at Esme, shocked. Incredulous. Then devastated. The sheriff had been fully convinced that they would identify Bella from the picture. Then his despondent gaze travelled to Carlisle and those pained chocolate eyes met his. (Carlisle knew he was a bad liar. Pretending. He could do pretending. That was much, much more easier. But shamelessly lying? He'd been stunned how smoothly it had gone the last time Chief Swan had visited. Alice had been of invaluable help in preparing Carlisle for the sheriff's visit, and so had Emmett.)

And Carlisle saw. With a sinking feeling. That Chief Swan saw right through him. Right down to Carlisle's guilty conscience.

Charlie's eyes turned a little unseeing for a brief moment after which he paid a quick, cautiously-reassessing look to Esme. Likely because she had fooled him completely. Charlie swiftly leaned over the table and retrieved the photo of a smiling Bella.

"Chief Swan-" Carlisle called as Charlie shot to his feet, remembered about his car keys and grabbed them off the table. But he was so distraught that he lost hold of the keys and they fell to the polished cedar floor with a soft metallic chime and slid forward a bit, coming to a stop under the bookcase to Charlie's right.

Chief Swan quietly cursed as he took a few steps to the bookcase and got down on the floor to retrieve the keys from under the bookcase.

"Where… are… they…"

"Can you reach them?" Esme helpfully inquired, "Should I get a broom?"

Carlisle heard the sound of Charlie's hand brushing the keys and something else which sounded very much like-

"No, no. I think I got them-"

Carlisle was on his feet instantaneously, moving a few steps closer to Chief Swan who was slowly getting back up from his knees to his feet, the car keys in his left hand but in his right one an orange prescription pill bottle. The angle allowed Carlisle to glimpse the printed label. Morphine. Prescription date: 12.22.2004. Prescribed by Dr Brooke Woodstenhulme for Isabella Marie Swan.

And while Charlie was staring at his daughter's name on the orange painkiller bottle which was still full of pills, likely never even opened, Carlisle was swept into the memory of Edward flying through the air and crashing into the table and in the process upturning the sofas, including the one on which Aro, Renata and Bella had sat and taken off their coats on and placed them over the back of the sofa… and in Isabella's case, her black jacket. The morphine must have been in her jacket pocket before the bottle had fallen out of it as it was thrown to the floor and in the ruckus rolled under the bookcase unnoticed, while everyone's attention was on Edward-

Charlie finally lifted his head up.

There was such rage and raw pain in his eyes which promised literal hell for both Carlisle and Esme. And their family.

Carlisle did not know what to do. What could they do? The bottle was a damning piece of evidence, an indisputable proof that Charlie Swan's daughter had been here-

In their living room-

With their Italian 'family'-

Life was not good anymore.

They had never been in such a tragically- shitty- bad situation before-

One moment Chief Swan was glaring at them, opening his mouth to say something, and the next one the keys and the orange morphine bottle were falling to the cedar floor because Esme's hands had wrapped around Charlie from behind, effectively immobilising him within a stone hard grip and her brilliant teeth sank into his neck without hesitation, the move so practiced he could not help but think she had done this a thousand times before.

Carlisle watched in horror as Charlie tried struggling, his eyes wide and gaping at Carlisle in pure terror, while his sweet, kind, loving wife was also watching Carlisle as she drained a human dry of his blood in their living room.

Carlisle… could not… move. This was… not real. Could not. Be real. This was. Not happening. Could not be happening-

Esme would never-

No.

She. She wouldn't.

This could not be.

Could not be.

Then the light in the sheriff's chocolate eyes dimmed, soon leaving them entirely and his heart stopped pumping non-existent blood through dry veins.

Esme let go of Charlie Swan's drained body and it fell down with a soft thud, not a drop of blood left in or on him to accidentally stain her softwood floor. His wife's golden gaze fell to the orange morphine bottle which was still rolling back and forth and then back up to him with still impossibly golden eyes and that universally satisfied smile every red-eyed vampire in Volterra had always, always had after a very pleasant meal.

Esme slowly licked the sheriff's blood off her lips. "He knew too much, honey."

Carlisle still could not move. Or utter a single sound. This could not be true.

This was impossible.

His beloved wife let out a soft sigh, giving him an endlessly kind yet resigned look before she bent down, picked up the plastic bottle, which had finally stilled a little to the right from the sheriff's chalk white face and empty eyes, and flopped down on her back on the sofa Charlie Swan had been sitting on five minutes ago.

Esme lifted the small bottle above her eyes, label down, and slowly read aloud, "Isabella Marie Swan," before letting her head fall to the side, deep amusement shining on her lovely face and within her rich honey eyes, "What were the odds, honey."

.

Two Weeks Earlier

01:00 a.m., Sunday, December 26, 2004, Somewhere 50,000 Feet Above The North Atlantic Ocean

He'd relived the memory of Didyme's death (and every other of his beloved sister) for billions of times. Just as Didi had said.

Aro blinked the venom from his eyes and let his gaze drift from the starry sky outside to his sleeping angel who was soundly asleep in the seat diagonally from him, closer to the window, still dead to the world after she had exhausted herself from her hour long heart-wrenching wailing after the jet had took off from Seattle-

To find Didyme sitting next to Isabella. Wearing that maddening royal blue veil dress which had always driven him crazy with-

Aro blinked. Closed his eyes. Opened them. And again, but Didyme was still there on the double seat beside Isabella. Studying her apathetically. Without missing a single thing about her. A few moments later his sister's human, lightning blue eyes which did not fit the memory of her immortal face but belonged in it like no crimson could ever dream of doing, travelled from Isabella to him.

"She will never make you truly happy." Didyme's harp tones loudly chimed within the jet. But they did not wake Isabella, nor did they succeed in drawing Renata's (who was still writing her romance novel on her laptop) attention. They had long ago renamed their mother tongue as 'Aro and Didyme's Language' because no one else spoke it anymore. "She is not-"

"No one is you, Didi." Aro whispered back. His sister's lips slowly stretched and the corners of her mouth curled up into a devilish grin and Aro desperately drank in the sight of his beloved sister – the straight midnight hair which encased her angelic face, her blue eyes shining full of magic, just as they had done for six millennia, under her long dark bangs-

"Mmm. She reminds me a bit of that Celtic harlot you brought home. Let's just hope power will not corrupt dear Bella like it did Sully. For your sake, Brother."

Didyme kept staring at him with that infuriatingly familiar, naughty grin, unfailingly adorning her lips. Minutes of them unblinkingly staring each other down ticked by until the corners of his lips started twitching and eventually rose up in an identically mirrored Cheshire grin to his little sister's.

"You must know I would never let that come to pass, Stella." Aro made a show of preening his metaphorical feathers by carding his nails through his hair and brushing it over to his other shoulder-

Didi's ebullient squeal filled the jet. Aro swore he had never heard a lovelier sound, "Sweet Darkness! I know that! You'd do it yourself this time. Won't you? Third time's the charm as they say. And by the way-"Didyme's diamond sharp teeth sank into her soft bottom lip, and she was grinning from ear to ear and he could not take his eyes off her, nor did he ever want to- "Did you know Mum wanted to name you Bennu but reconsidered at the last moment? A flaming phoenix, rising from the ashes… Personally, I think Magpie would have suited you so much better, Brother. All those rivers of wine and your pet collection of gifted vampires! And don't even get me started on your countless secret caves filled with gold and shiny jewels!"

Aro snorted. His shoulders were shaking. "That's dragons, Didi."

He supposed if was a good thing he had decided to abstain from imbibing alcohol during the flight (he wanted to arrive at Volterra with a completely clear head) for he'd surely be choking on his beloved wine right now and only proving Didyme's words.

"You're incorrigible." And impossibly here. And it was her. Not an illusion or delusion concocted by his fractured mind. The genuine, real Didyme. His little sister-

"How is it that you're here, Stella?" Aro reluctantly asked, feeling his earlier merriment washing away. He did not want her to leave, but he knew she could not stay here indefinitely.

"It's my Death Day. And it's night. We're so high up and you were thinking of me. I saw an opportunity to slip through for a bit and I took it. Your magic shines so bright, Brother. I don't think you realise. And I knew you'd be able to see me." Didyme's lively eyes shone with pure excitement.

"…How long do you have?"

"An hour. Give or take a few minutes. Until we lose altitude. Time has become a slippery notion."

"I've missed you so much... Words don't suffice."

"I know. I'm forever sorry it needed to happen this way."

"Are you well?" For him, to finally find out the answer to this simple question rose above all else, nothing mattered more, and Aro was forever in a state of dread that she was still tormented by her past life on this world and still suffering, wherever she had gone after she fell-

"I am." The wave of relief after hearing this left him dizzy; and all he could do was hold onto the vision of his sister and try to keep himself from falling apart in wake of the absence of the crushing weight he had not even noticed he had been carrying with himself for so long and which had unexpectedly lifted from his soul after half a millennium. He did not have time for that now. Later.

"I'm glad," was all Aro managed to get past his lips.

"I've been watching over you. And the family. Whenever I could." Didyme added, her mesmerising voice filling the air between them, calming him further.

"The wolves were a nice touch." Didyme complimented. "Marvellous execution."

Turned out Aro's calm was short lived.

"…You really think so?"

"Unquestionably. Couldn't have done it better myself. And the added bonus of finally having a legitimate enough excuse for purging the world of those bloody abominations should not be overlooked either. Beautiful work."

A truly high praise, coming from Didyme, so Aro nodded a little, graciously accepting the compliment.

"I could not endure it anymore, Stella. …After, I convinced myself none of it had ever happened. That those fifteen years never happened… All those dead girls who loved me more than my own wife did… I caught myself daydreaming about Mongibello again. Over and over again. How easy it would be. Just a few moments and I'd be with you again! The temptation was nearly impossible to resist. I could barely think of anything else..."

"But Brother had made you promise to never ever go up there again." Didyme softly spoke.

Aro mutely nodded, blinking away venom from his eyes and let his gaze be drawn to the starry sky and took deep, measured breaths before turning back to the impossible sight of his little sister who was emitting the kind of frighteningly endless love and compassion for him he'd not felt from her in such a long time… Aro never wanted to take his eyes off her again lest she suddenly left him again-

A wretched laugh escaped past his lips, "I could not even afford to do it myself, Stella. Not after how the world believes you died."

Didyme grimaced before a quick, apologetic smile was flashed his way. "Sorry. You wouldn't have needed to go through all that charade. Make you yourself believe the lie you fed to the world." Her sharp teeth angrily ground together.

"I had to. I saw no other possibility for the world to fully believe it too. And the family."

"And Athey?"

"Sister should learn when to keep her fucking mouth shut. It was a good lesson for her."

"Both of them could have died." Didyme challenged, wicked, neon flames dancing in her eyes.

"Sister could have gotten rid of all five of those pests in seconds all by herself, Beloved." Aro spitefully hissed, knowing his eyes were flashing bright red, but what did it matter here, fifty thousand feet above ground. "As you well know."

Didi's Cheshire grin was back, and was followed by one of her deliciously obscene moans-

"Gods… The double betrayal…" Her eyes fluttered closed in palpable euphoria-

"…pity I missed that bit."

"Ultimately, Athenodora had had good intentions," Aro quietly divulged. "…She had been drowning in guilt ever since she realised the full impact of her careless words."

"Just as it has been drowning you, Brother, for the past hundred years." Didyme knowingly remarked. "You should not feel that guilt, Aro."

"She was my wife. My child. I'm not-"

"You are not me." Didyme warmly interrupted. "And I love you for that, Beloved."

"And I you, Beloved."

Aro kept staring at his most favourite person in the world-

"I've missed you so much."

And he could not stop-

"Why did you leave me?" The one other question which had not left him be for the last four hundred and sixty-four years.

"I could not endure it anymore," and that dreadfully sad smile was back on her lips. "…I met someone."

Aro felt his throat constrict and his dead heart die a little more-

"Not like that, Brother. She… tied my soul back to me. Properly. Turns out it had drifted too far away during the change and missed the very last beat of my heart by a million's part of a second. Still vaguely tethered to my body and mind but… never… quite… there. Always casting only a barely there-"

"-shadow." Aro whispered. "I had wondered. Had you truly lost your soul, I would not have been able to glimpse your mind. Most importantly, you would have been dead without a soul."

"Suddenly I felt everything again. Not those feeble feather brushes of bleak, selected emotions. Or those rare overwhelming splashes of extreme, mind-blowing feeling. After six thousand years." Didyme bitterly laughed, "All the unspeakable- unforgivable! things I had done over those six thousand years. I was drowning under an ocean of guilt, Aro. The regret. The agonyof it all… I'd never felt such pain. But there I still was. Nothing had changed. I still ruled by your and Caius and Marcus' sides. …And then there was you." Glimmering tears rolled down Didi's cheeks. "All the things I had done to you. Put you through. All those- …Marcus.

"I thought I'd die from the pain. But days turned to weeks and I was still there. The same as I had always been. Not a hair out of place. Still dying from the pain and seeing you with that spoiled, ungrateful bitch. Every. Damned. Night-"

"Stella-"

"I know. I had no right to meddle. So I didn't. Not after-" Didyme broke away from his eyes and lifted her shiny ones skywards, blinking them free of venom before looking back at him with that dreaded, painfully sad smile which had haunted him for such long centuries.

"You did not say good-bye to him. Marcus has never recovered from his grief, Didi."

"I know… I couldn't. He would have realised at once, just as you did." Didyme shook her head, her crystal blues still glimmering, "I could not say goodbye to him, Brother. It was you or him. I chose you."

"…How long do you have left?"

"Not long. A few minutes more." She sounded sorry.

This was surreal. He would surely be thinking of her as an imposter if he were not entirely convinced by her unique magical signature which permeated the air around them, constantly clashing and mixing with his own.

Didyme turned her head to look over her right shoulder to where darling Renata had closed her laptop and was silently watching him from her seat on the other side of the aisle. Had been for a while it seemed.

"She, on the other hand, is the very best thing that has happened to you, Brother."

"Yes. She is." Aro warmly said, "She is my best friend."

"You should tell her."

"I think she knows-"

"About Sully. She will understand." His sister sounded uncomfortably certain about this- "It will do you good to have one more person to talk to about this. Especially her and especially now when those memories have re-surfaced. Do not allow them to bedevil you any longer."

"I don't think I can talk about it, Didi."

"Of course you can." And insistent.

Aro shook his head.

Didyme tilted her head to the side, evidently hearing something beyond his hearing range.

"My time has run out." The words he had dreaded for the last hour.

"Where will you go?"

Didyme rose to her bare feet and regally sauntered up to him with unparalleled grace, coming to stand right in front of him, looking down in his eyes for a beat, the static of her lightning magic spinning around her. She leaned down and pressed her forehead against his, never taking her eyes away from his- "Home."

He did not know what he had expected, if he had expected anything at all, but to see every thought and memory of Didyme up until this moment was not among his most audacious expectations.

By the time he once again became aware of his own self and his placement in this reality, his sister was long gone.

"Who were you talking to?" Darling Renata quietly drew his attention to herself, as not to wake their abducted human.

"My sister." Aro quietly confessed. Caius was right, he'd tell Renata anything she wished to know. Very inconvenient. But he wouldn't change it for the world.

Renata looked to the empty seat next to Bella and then back to him.

"She still here?"

"No. She left. Before we lost altitude." And not a moment later both of them felt the gradual decline of the jet. "The veil between the astral and the physical plane is so much thinner this high up than it is at sea level… She slipped through for a bit."

There was a shrewd look on her lovely face when she hesitantly asked with tightly controlled curiosity: "…What did she want?"

"To say hello. And that she is at peace. Why she… left me. Us. Mocked my taste in women." Aro dryly laughed whilst Renata's eyes drew into very thin slits. "Nothing new there."

"Not you, dearest. According to my sister, you are the very best thing that has ever happened to me." Aro affectionately revealed.

"On that we can definitely agree on, Master." Renata brightly chirped and relaxed, a sunny smile shining once more on her face as she regarded him with a calculating look and leaned back into her seat.

"There is something different about you." Renata rested her chin in one of her hands while holding her laptop with the other one on her folded knees. "I can't exactly put my finger on it… Lighter. As if the weight of the world has been lifted off your shoulders. And…"

"Yes?" Aro lazily smiled.

"And the ever-present unstable energy is gone. …No. Not gone. Gone to sleep-"

"Girl-"

"Don't argue! We've all been walking on eggshells, feeling like potential vampirewood to your fireplace, for the past year."

Aro rolled his eyes. "Don't be dramatic."

"Your Brother will be thrilled! As will everyone else. Heidi's been getting grey hair. Literally, Aro. I didn't know that was possible!" Aro grimaced.

The jet fell into a pleasant silence. Their human was peacefully sleeping. Aro had thought that turning her at the earliest convenience would be the best course of action, but now he was not so sure anymore. He really wanted for her to grow a little older. Even those nine and a half months until her birthday would be invaluable.

"…Master?"

"Yes, dearest?"

"What happened in that church?" Darling Renata cautiously asked, squinting her eyes at him.

"Such a tragic accident, Renata." Aro despondently sighed.

Renata could not help but roll her eyes at him herself, "Master…"

Aro grinned. Nevertheless, a few moments later, his smile dimmed.

"Little Amanda…" Aro pinched his lips, "…dragged forth a memory which had been safely locked away in the deepest pits of my mind. And with it, all the others which had been buried in the exact same place, alongside that particular memory of mine. I had not viewed them for a century. I'd… almost made myself believe none of it had ever happened."

Darling Renata did not ask. She was still curious, her eyes betrayed her, but she did not ask, the sweet girl.

Aro turned his head to the dark window and began watching the night sky over France.

They will be landing soon.

Aro ensured that his angel was not faking being asleep but was actually still deeply sleeping, not that she understood Italian, but Aro did not wish for her to hear this conversation in any form- "My wife did something she should never have done. She knew how much it would hurt me, did hurt me, but she did not care and she did it anyway."

He heard Renata's teeth click tightly together, her jaw tense.

"You see, I'd always given her everything she had desired. Within reason, of course." Aro hastily added.

"Then. One day. She asked for something unreasonable." His gaze fell to the jet's floor, clouding over. "And she did not take 'no' for an answer."

"I wanted to give her the world, Renata. Even then. At first. And. I thought. If I went along with it. For a little bit. She would… change her mind. Realise what a horrible mistake she had made, asking such a thing of me. See how wrong it was for her to pressure me into-" Aro squeezed his eyes shut, feeling the shudders run through his body, and when they passed, dragged his eyes up to meet Renata's enraged ones.

"When was this?" It never failed to stun him to see such ice cold rage on his behalf in darling Renata. It shouldn't be a surprise anymore, he knew. But he could never help his initial surprise. Perhaps one day he won't be surprised anymore.

"Eighteen eighty-eight."

It was clear as night by her own unfeigned surprise and immediate dismay that darling Renata had assumed it had happened sometime before she had started living at the Castle. He knew very well that none of the family had any suspicions apart from Dora and his brothers who all knew exactly what had unfolded before His Darling's death.

"I still held hope, you know. So I waited. I gave her time… so much time. Years. For years I went along with it, Renata! But she did not change her mind, dearest," Aro sang in a fake-cheery voice. "Sulpicia never. Changed. Her mind."

"And then… Fifteen years later, I could not bear to live like that any longer."

As seconds ticked by he watched Renata piece together every little snippet he had revealed tonight, tying it together with the little girl's death yesterday and everything she herself remembered of that time and that which had come after. Dismissing impossible scenarios and conclusions, filling in the missing puzzle pieces using that wonderful imagination of hers which allowed Renata to write such brilliant novels and Aro caught the exact instant she figured out the truth-

How her laptop clattered to the floor because she had her hands pressed over her mouth-

The noise of the computer hitting the floor waking up his angel from her deep slumber-

"WhatdidImiss?" His angel asked while yawning, looking from him to an uncommonly white and speechless Renata.

"Nothing of importance, angel." Aro warmly assured, magicking up a kind smile to play on his lips.

"There was a noise." Isabella's smudged cat eyes narrowed accusingly. "I'm positive there was a noise. Woke me up from a really cool dream. I don't get a lot of those."

"Darling Renata forgot to save the last four chapters of her novel before the battery died. Happens to the best of us."

"Oh. That's fucking awful." Isabella compassionately said to Renata who had yet to take her deeply shocked eyes off him. "I feel for you, Renata. And that poor novel."

"Do not lose heart. Renata has perfect recall. She'll type them right back up again in no time. You'll see."

"Will I?" Isabella excitedly turned around in her seat to darling Renata who slowly leaned down to retrieved her laptop while she bought time to collect herself and finally revealed her face on which a bright smile awaited his angel-

"Of course you will, Bella." Renata kindly promised. Then she threw him such a downright lethal glare Aro was surprised he did not drop dead at once, and hissed at him, "When it is finished."

"Certainly, darling. Certainly. But I was thinking earlier… when I was walking over Crescent… would you mind terribly sending a copy to dear Carlisle when it is finished? I'm certain he'll enjoy it."

The corners of darling Renata's blood red lips curled upwards, "Oh, you're bad," Renata drawled, thoroughly amused.

"What's it about?"

Renata crossed the aisle with her laptop in her hands and settled down right next to him, pulling her legs up on the seat and leaned her shoulder and head against him, "The book tells this gloriously dark love story between a half-vampire-half-human girl and a priest in Gothic England…"

.

---

Notes: I am in no way endorsing or glorifying the use or abuse of prescription painkillers. I literally don't know anything more about morphine than what I could find on the Internet, and which suited the plot of this story.