Chapter 2

The week had passed by quickly and her internship had begun. Isabella dressed hurriedly in a simple cotton dress and thankfully, her curls decided to behave this morning, she was on the verge of being late. She had to look somewhat presentable even though she would be in a dusty library all day, rarely seeing another person. She missed college days of sloppy dressing; adulthood wasn't as welcoming as children thought it to be. Grabbing her travel mug, she ran out the door of her tiny flat above a bakery. If she was lucky the old baker would stop her and fill her arms with baked goods on the way out. The elderly woman tsked over how skinny Isabella was. Isabella was true to the starving college student stereotype, any money she did have was spent on books. Spoken in broken English and vivid hand gestures she would advise, "You too small, eat more. Men like the thick hips." Giulia would follow it up with a pinch to Isabella's hip. A very American Isabella had to quickly come to terms with the cultural differences. Italians were very affectionate. With a kiss to both cheeks and a basket full of food, Isabella hopped on her bike to the small dusty library she would be researching from for the next few weeks. Her professor mostly left her alone to do the hard labor while he did his own "research" at local cafes, bars, and restaurants. Isabella realized the first day of her internship that this would be the standard. She sighed catching a glimpse of the bright Italian sun shining through the stained-glass window in the nook where she worked. Maybe quitting and becoming Giulia's apprentice wouldn't be such a bad idea after all. She could still read on the side. She flipped another page, slowly translating each passage. Isabella was looking for a clue to where a book "pivotal to his research" was located. Her basic understanding was it a rumored journal, probably forgotten in a private collection, that had unheard of details of an Athenian war. Some barely heard of war from the so-called Greek dark ages written in Linear B. Basically she needed to hunt down and shoot a unicorn. Apparently, another researcher had found several pages and submitted them for authenticity testing before he suddenly vanished. At least that's the rumor Isabella heard, but she never put much stock into gossip. Take the vampire tales, for example, writers had everything wrong, based on rumors and tall tales. Isabella doubted that the pages even really existed.

The walk back to her studio was a slow one. She had stopped for an early evening coffee and slowly sipped the hot beverage while pushing her bike along. The air was sweet-smelling and a brisk breeze blew tossing a few errant curls around. No dense forest of trees like Forks, no dry, scorching heat of Arizona, no busy London streets just a gentle tread among the ancient buildings while the descending sun cast vivid colors into the sky. She wondered if the sky would taste like the sherbet it portrayed. Isabella stuck her pink tongue out testing her childish thoughts. No, nothing. She sighed in contentment; enjoying the feeling of freedom at the moment.

Soon, Isabella was back at her flat where Giulia had a large plate of food waiting for her. Subtly, for Giulia anyways, she would force one of her many grandsons to carry Isabella's large backpack up the stairs. Emilio was the victim tonight. Isabella was too bella to be without a husband and by the grace of Madonna herself, Giulia would rectify the situation. The poor child needed a family, Giulia worriedly thought while preparing tomorrows dough to rise overnight.

Bird song woke Isabella earlier than her alarm. Her professor had texted her late in the night telling her about another library on the other side of town that found more pages from the fabled journal. A small lead in a wild unicorn hunt. She checked the distance hoping she could bike the distance, luckily it wasn't too bad of a ride, but it would be an all-day affair. If she was quick enough, she could catch a ride out with Emilio on his daily deliveries. Changing into a sleeveless wrap dress, Isabella ran down the stairs. Grabbing the basket Giulia had left for her and a quick kiss on the cheeks, she ran outside waving Emilio's van to a stop. With a brief hello, he thrust open the door for her to jump in. Emilio dropped her off at the beginning of his morning route, promising to pick her up at five during his evening run. Isabella worked her way around the unknown streets until she found the small library hidden in a disused alley. Knocking swiftly on the aged-battered door, an elderly man opened it welcoming her in.

The librarian had found three pages tucked into another book acting as a bookmark, they resembled the pages that the other researcher had found. Isabella hesitantly picked up the ancient papyrus, reveling in the texture of the pages. She brought it to her nose to take in the aromatic, dry smell. A small smile tugged at her lips. It smelled like her first love, books. Careful not to disturb the ink, Isabella began pulling out her notebooks to begin translating. Soon though she found out she couldn't decipher the words on the page. It obviously was very old Greek. This was above her pay grade. She laid her face on the table trying to reign in her disappointment. That's why she was here right? To learn. To research. Spying the cover of the book the pages were left in, Isabella read the Title aloud.

"The History of Volterra"

The title sent a rush of familiarity, but Isabella couldn't place why. Maybe she had learned about it during undergrad? This felt promising, she thought. Why would someone hide these three pages in another book?

Ignoring the book, she looked back to the pages. The symbols were mesmerizing and perfect, almost like a computer had recreated someone's personal font. The irregularities in the ink were the only indicator that it was handwritten. Searching the pages for a clue, she ran a hand slowly over the surface of one. How could she resist? The texture was mostly uniform for a manually formed paper but something stuck up gently on the edge of the paper, almost like the page had a raised watermark. Glancing around to make sure the librarian wasn't watching; Isabella covered the ancient text with a fresh sheet of paper. Carefully, very carefully, Isabella began rubbing the clean paper with her pencil just like she was taught as a child. As a child, the focus was a leaf she had found at the park, now a priceless, irreplaceable artifact. With scrunched brows covered in her nervous sweat, the picture began to form. A shield nestled into a "V". Glancing closer, Isabella saw the distorted shape of a bird and maybe a tree? She wasn't exactly sure and it did not ring a bell. She would look it up during lunch because her cell phone received no service through the thick stone walls of the library. Nestling the pages back into their hiding place, she grabbed her basket and decided to walk to a nearby fountain to enjoy the beautiful day. Spreading out the contents of her lunch, Isabella began munching on her Caprese salad, eyeing the dessert Giulia had packed. Giulia was soo good to her. She hummed her appreciation at the fresh homemade food. She never had someone take care of her as Giulia did. Isabella learned she had to cook for herself as a child because Renee wasn't much of a homemaker. In her younger years, Isabella mostly ate cereal or fast-food, that's if Renee remembered to buy cereal or leave money for McDonald's. McDonald's even until this day still made her gag. Isabella after seeing how much Charlie tried to be a real parent, only held resentment for her mother. Renee could barely take care of herself let alone a child. Their strained relationship never truly mended because that would mean Renee would have to work at something for once. Pushing her mom issues to the back of her mind, Isabella grabbed her phone. She had a crest to research after-all. Searching the web, she was having trouble finding information, it may just be a really old, unimportant family crest. Remember the book she typed in Volterra. It couldn't hurt, they both started with a 'V'. Isabella scanned through the information. A walled town that once was a fortress. It had a very long history; probably where the crest came from. Around an hour away. Volterra had a museum; maybe she could start there. Isabella formed her plan; she would travel to Volterra tomorrow and stay the night. She could visit the museum and see if they had a public library, maybe even an old bookstore. Hopefully, she could find where the crest originated from, that could spur her into the right direction. She scooped the last of tiramisu into her mouth, humming in satisfaction.

o0o

Bright and early Isabella set off on her journey to Volterra. Luckily enough, Giulia had another grandson that's business drove near Volterra; he was willing to drop her off. Once again, she ran down the stairs to receive a kiss and basket for her journey. This time she had her small duffel bag, which she would drop at the hotel as soon as she checked in.

The journey was short by car; her company nice but quiet. Giving him a wave, she ran up to the small hotel to check-in and discard her duffel. Isabella set out to the museum; the skirt of her navy dress swung as she strolled leisurely through the streets. Volterra was beautiful with its cobbled streets and sienna walls. Isabella stopped at one of the walls peering over the see the gorgeous view of rolling hills. She really did love Italy, even in the short amount of time that she had been here. It called to her. A new place to start that wasn't tainted with her past.

Viewing the pottery and little trinkets at the museum were delightful. The rich history of the town mesmerized her and sparked her curiosity. She wanted to stay at the museum all day but her stomach growled embarrassingly loud. She had completely forgotten about lunch and it was now early afternoon. She had spent all morning investigating, finding no clues at the museum to where the crest could have come from. She shook her hair out trying to decide her next plan. Maybe a late lunch? She left the museum only the be startled by a crowd of red cloaks. Waiting patiently for a break in the crowd, she headed to the nearest café to grab a snack.

"Why is everyone dressed in red?" She asked the waitress.

"It is St. Marcus day. Big celebration," the waitress spoke in broken English. Isabella nodded and nibbled at her lunch. She watched the sea of red move steadily through the streets, enjoying watching the families celebrating. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw two figures dressed in black cloaks slip through the crowd heading the opposite direction. They must have not gotten the red cloak memo, she chuckled to herself. They sparked her interest though and she watched as the glided through two massive doors at the end of the street. The building itself was looming; like an ancient castle. For its age, it was immaculately kept. She waited for her bill and to ask the waitress some questions.

"What building is that over there?" Isabella pointed to where she saw the black-clothed figures disappear.

"Old castle. Sometimes they have tours." Ah, so it was a historic building. Maybe they had a private library she could get access to. The waitress came back with her change and a red cloak.

"Here for you. To celebrate." Isabella tried to turn down the gift, but the kind waitress refused to take no for an answer. Slipping on the cloak, Isabella decided to check out the old castle.

It was there that she saw it. The reason she had traveled here. The symbol intricately engraved in the stone above the large castle doors almost made her drop her coffee. No way, she thought. The crest did originate from this town, but why couldn't she find any of that information online? She hesitated at the doors, unsure of whether to attempt to go inside. The waitress did say they offered tours? It couldn't possibly hurt to ask, could it? Screw it. She slowly pushed the heavy door open taking it as a good sign that it was unlocked. The hall was long and dark with only the dim lamps lightening the way. Blinking to help her eye adjust, Isabella wandered through the halls. Immaculate pillars lined the hall, an occasional statue perched in an enclave. Isabella held her hands to her side to restrain herself from touching. Everything screamed money, from the floor to the furnishings. All the architecture was obviously original. Eventually, Isabella saw a reception desk, where a secretary typed away at her computer. She moved to drop the hood of her cloak but thought better of it.

"Excuse me? Where is the library?" Isabella asked in Italian. It was one of her better phrases she could speak. The secretary jumped but didn't look up almost as if she would get into trouble.

"Take the right hall, and then the second left hall, sixth door on the left."

"Umm… thank you." Isabella couldn't believe that worked. She wasn't trying to sneak around but the secretary made it so easy. Maybe it was open to the public, she mused. Isabella kept walking down the hall until she approached the large doors of what she hoped was the library. It had taken a good fifteen minutes to reach the doors. Glancing down the hall, Isabella didn't see anyone that could stop her so she walked into the library.

Here her heart surely stopped. She couldn't believe her eyes. The library was the largest she had ever seen. Tall shelves almost reached the cathedral ceiling; hundreds of shelves filled with precious books. Plush seating areas spaced through-out, a large fire roaring in the huge fireplace. It was so beautiful. Never in a lifetime could she read every book here. Isabella walked down one of the rows, fingers dragging across the spines of the books. The books were old, probably the oldest she had ever seen. She barely recognized the languages on them. Pulling a random book out, she sniffed the aged cover before opening it. Inside the book, she spotted a script similar to the loose pages that had brought her here. Isabella had been successful where other scholars had failed. Smiling, she clutched the book to her chest like a newborn baby then made her way back up another aisle toward the entrance. Who owns this library, she asked herself? She stopped to admire at small vase resting on a pedestal at the end of a row. The vase reminded her of the classical Greek piece she learned about in an art history class. She picked up the small vase, tucking the book under her arm so she could get a better look at the piece. She really couldn't help herself; it was too pretty to not touch.

"Giana, what are you doing in here?" A deep, velvety voice asked in Italian. Isabella spun around fully startled; the priceless vase shattering to the floor. His red eyes held her in place, not that she could flee if given the chance. He was larger than Emmett, wider than Emmett. Isabella choked on her scream too frozen in fright.

"Who are you? How did you get in here?" The man demanded in rapid Italian.

"Is-Isabella," she stuttered, answering only one of his questions. He knew instantly that she was American, but she had understood his Italian. At his appraising stare, her heart beat wildly, trying to escape the confines of her ribs. She couldn't breathe. The golden crest taunted her from its chain nestled against his broad chest. Her curiosity had got the better of her. She had unknowingly walked straight into a castle filled with vampires.

It hit her suddenly. A very vague memory from her teens. Edward had mentioned something about laws and vampire kings. What were they called?

"Volturi," she had answered herself aloud. The predator cocked his head to the side. Interesting, he thought, she knows.

"Oh god, I walked right in the fucking Volturi." Isabella couldn't help the babbling that spilled forth.

"Of course. How could I be so stupid? Volterra. Volturi. Fuck me." She was panicking much to the amusement of the strange vampire. He let her have her moment.

Felix hadn't been surprised in centuries, and this girl was a treat. She obviously knew of vampires if she knew what his coven was called. What a pickle this little Isabella had gotten herself into. This was going to be a lively day. He couldn't wait to deliver her to Aro and if he was quick enough the entire guard would still be in the throne room. Demetri would get a kick out of this. But who had broken the biggest rule they had? This was surely going to be a shit-storm, a hilarious shit-storm. Many people would be punished. Felix smiled at the thought.

"Well, Miss Isabella you will have to follow me," He ordered, breaking her out of her emotional breakdown. She looked up at him, brown doe eyes wide with fear. She was pretty… for a human, he mused. Holding out his muscular arm, she surprisingly took it but continued to clutch the book to protectively her chest. She was astoundingly calm, almost too accepting of him escorting her to what would probably be her death. Her fluttering heart was the only thing that showed him that she knew she was fucked. He just hoped when Aro decided to kill her, he got the honor. Isabella was a mouthwatering treat.