Prologue

The sun was setting on Volterra as Laurent approached what could be considered the "visitor's desk" of the Volturi's dark and gloomy halls. There was a woman at the desk – a human woman – who looked up as he approached. She was pretty, and Laurent's mouth watered at the scent of her blood, but he stifled the thirst.

"What's your name, love?" he asked. The woman flashed a smile.

"Tiffany. How can I help you?" She had a warm Italian accent and beautiful, robust, blood-filled lips…he almost had to shake himself out of the stupor. Carefully, he pulled his hood back and let his dark red eyes meet hers. Tiffany stood from behind the desk and straightened her skirt, "Oh yes…right this way."

Her high heels echoed through the cold stone halls as she led Laurent deeper into the Volturi's den. A set of iron-wrought doors opened into a huge chamber and there they sat. The Volturi. Each with an intricate throne of their own, surrounded by books and art and devotees…. Laurent allowed himself to take in the lavishness. Oh, how he longed to be one of them. To study the ancient texts, to know the deepest secrets of Vampiric lore, to be a keeper of the Laws. And now, perhaps, he had a chance.

At the sound of their entrance, the Volturi looked up from their manuscripts. Aro rose from his throne and smiled, although as always, it seemed slightly pained. With his cloaked arms he gestured towards Laurent as though meeting an old friend.

"Laurent! My old friend, welcome, welcome!"

"You summoned me?" said Laurent, his tone questioning. The Volturi had sent for him a week prior via a letter handwritten in spidery script, but it had spoken only vaguely of an "opportunity."

"Yes, and you have come! Excellent, excellent!" Aro reached out and took Laurent's hand, closing his eyes as he took in the thoughts and feelings of Laurent's past. Aro liked to do this, Laurent knew, as a show of power.

With a deep breath, Aro let Laurent's hand drop and opened his eyes, still wearing the same smile.

"You have been on this Earth for a long time, my friend," said Aro. It was true; Laurent had been Turned over 250 years ago. "But," Aro continued, "You are not so old to have seen the Volturi at the height of our power."

"I imagine you were rightfully revered, even as you are now," Laurent murmured, unsure of what to say.

"We were respected." The voice was Marcus's. It was the first time he had spoken since Laurent had entered the room. He shifted his gaze to where Marcus sat poring over a large astral chart. His eyes were dark and heavy, and Laurent knew that he rarely spoke. In fact, those three words alone had probably taken an immense effort for him.

"We were feared!" Caius snapped. He was hotheaded and rather brash. Aro momentarily turned away from Laurent to give Caius a pointed look.

Laurent cocked his head ever so slightly. "Are you not still respected… and feared?"

Marcus spoke again, his voice hoarse from disuse. "We feel our power…drained. Our influence…weakens."

"I'm afraid I don't know what you mean." said Laurent. He didn't see what this had to do with him.

"Our coven, the Volturi, is the essence of our nature," said Aro, "We are the oldest, most prestigious Vampires. We are the keepers of our history, our culture, the Rule of Law."

"Our kind are indebted to you," Laurent granted, bowing his head.

"And yet…" here Aro paused, "there are some who would threaten our ways. Who consort with humans – even care for them. At a time when our kind is at its most vulnerable!" Aro had worked himself up into a kind of fervor, and nearly shouted the last sentence.

"Of whom do you speak?" Laurent asked, his tone curious.

"Carlisle Cullen." said Caius, as though he had been waiting for Laurent to ask.

Laurent couldn't help but raise an eyebrow. He knew of Carlisle, the so-called "vegetarian" vampire, and his coven of like-minded individuals. There were few who didn't. "I did not realize he was on poor terms with the Volturi."

"Please understand," said Aro, "it is not his…abstinence from human blood that offends us. But he has become more brazen of late. He shuns our kind. We, who he should care for the most, disgust him. Instead, he maintains open contact with large human covens. He even heals them."

"It's unnatural." Caius added.

"In fact…" said Aro softly, dangerously, "we even have reason to suspect that he is attempting to develop a cure."

Laurent scoffed. Rumors of a cure for vampirism cropped up every few decades or so. But they were never more than just that – rumors. He had no doubt that even Carlisle's bright mind would be no match for this age-old problem.

"Cure or no, he endangers us." Aro turned sharply, pacing, "Every interaction he has with the humans puts us all at risk. It's only a matter of time before our secret is no longer safe. You remember, Laurent, the way that we were once hunted by them."

Laurent did remember, when humans hundreds of years ago had been aware of their existence. There was a time that vampires had been hunted and killed by humans out of fear. He had lost friends to frenzied human mobs, centuries ago. Now those times had been reduced to little more than legend.

"Laurent," Aro began to pace slow circles around him as he spoke, "you have always been a loyal individual. We are of like mind. Never have you questioned the authority of the Volturi and the laws that we hold sacred. You are experienced…intelligent… and we share an appreciation for the history and culture of our people. In fact …I think the Volturi might find great value in your companionship…should you continue to prove yourself."

Aro's words were enticing. Laurent's eyes gleamed. Aro knew what he wanted.

"And how might I earn my place here?" he asked. He already knew the answer.

Aro smiled widely, almost grotesquely.

"Carlisle Cullen. Bring me his head."