I hadn't noticed it at first.

It did not take long for me to change into the clothing I'd arrived in and throw my few possessions into my bag. I was ready within minutes after I'd been left to my own devices and I wanted to move quickly. I had no way to know how much longer I had before Alec's arrival. The vampire once again being forced to guard me while trying not to kill me. Which was apparently, inevitable.

A bitter part of me was glad that he was assigned to me for this next shift. If Alec was supposed to be guarding me, he would have to punish himself for my escape this time. Still, I wanted to leave before I had to see him. It would be easier that way.

However, I was held up by the presence of an unexpected item that had been placed on the vanity table. I stood admiring the intricacy of the black leather bound journal. A thin strap wrapped around and tied at the side to keep the pages tightly bound within it. Unlike notebooks at a commercial bookstore, everything about this one declared its history. It certainly owned up to its age and could have been classified as lightly used - if at all. My hand currently hovered above it, unsure of whether I should bring it with me or leave it behind.

"Mate in four."

"I see it in three." Jane declared smugly, knocking down the white king before resetting the table. As much as Jane abhorred losing, her real enemy in chess was her own patience. She had long since become fed up with the amount of time it took me to make a single move, a default of my human mind. Instead, she began to play herself and I was content to simply watch as the afternoon passed us by.

The giddy pride that surrounded her after every win made me smile. While we were decently matched, I rarely won. Somehow though, she seemed to find more pleasure in defeating herself. She wore a gloating grin every time she reset the board and it slowly shifted into a determined stare as another match began.

This time, my attention had shifted from the chess board to the stain glass window behind Jane. It framed her almost perfectly and though each held their own form of beauty, the glory of the glass only served to reiterate the exquisiteness of Jane's natural self. The vampire factor disappeared and there she was, clear as day.

Her features were defined by raised cheekbones, subtly decorated with a youthful amount of baby fat. It further projected the innocence that should accompany a young woman. Full lips set in an innate pout and a deep shade of pink, giving the impression that blood still flowed through her veins. Her hair was up in a favoured French twist and not a single hair was out of place. She blinked and scarlet flashed through long, thin eyelashes.

"What are you doing?" She was staring at my hand, which was darting around the counter's edge of the table.

I removed it before retracing the pattern. "I was drawing you."

"Into the table?"

I shrugged, "I don't have paper." It was a trick I had learned during the various art focused heists and schemes my father directed. I never really had paper on hand, so if I wanted to remember a detail of a painting I would physicalise it for myself. The tactic isn't unusual, equivalent to a piano player tapping their fingers as if playing the keys of their instrument.

She tilted her head at me and I could almost see the wheels turning in her head as she processed this. "Shame." It was all she said before she returned to her game.

It was a gift. She had provided me with paper and it hurt me to acknowledge that now, I would never get the chance to actually paint her in person. My sentimentality was showing and it was wasting time. An instilled habit of traveling lightly was likely one of the only values both my life with my father and my life at the convent taught me. I pulled my hand away from the book, denying myself the frivolous present.

I changed my mind, quickly picking it up and holding it to my chest. I quickly moved to exit the room, trying to make up for lost time. I pulled the door open, only to be met with a fist preparing to knock on the wood.

Standing in my way to freedom once again, was Prosper.

My eyes widened and I faltered, taking in the military presence of the man. "Prosper."

He nodded. Right - strong and silent type. Or was he still afraid, as he had been in Felix's presence upon our first meeting. I remembered a gentleness in him when Felix had gone. We were alone now, but all traces of any similar emotions had been masked if they still existed.

Instead, he held himself with a rigid stillness indicative of the same uneasiness he'd had with the higher guard member. A reaction that I could only assume was a response to whatever Alec had done to him. Whatever it was, it seemed to haunt him, as if the violent vampire could turn a corner at any moment and repeat the damage done just because he was with me.

Perhaps I was dramatically projecting my own storyline. I couldn't help it. I had so little of the story that it was all I could do to not interrogate the vampire in the middle of the hallway. I had the right to embellish, especially as I noted a few short scratches marring Prosper's neck. It almost looked like a bite mark except that the deepest part of it dragged along the skin nearly an inch. The further away from the origin, the lighter it got. As if the offending weapon had been ripped away before it could cause any real damage.

I hadn't paid enough attention to know if it had been there before, but I thought vampires were invincible. It seemed impossible that he would even have a mark on him, especially not one so prominent and they clearly stood out if it was enough for me to notice. Perhaps it was the bite that had turned him - if classic vampire lore held any accuracy, though I was under the impression that vampires had fangs for that task.

He seemed to realize what I was looking at and quickly rearranged his cloak in an attempt to cover it. That wasn't suspicious at all. He didn't comment on the subject, only offering me a formal, "the Masters would like a word."

I swallowed, "again? I was just going to sleep..." He raised an eyebrow at my fully dressed form. I tried to casually hide myself behind the door a bit more. He didn't seem to buy it.

"I'll have to insist." He hesitated before adding, "you should leave your things in your room." Sheepishly, I returned the notebook to the vanity and slid my bag underneath it. When I reappeared in the doorway, he nodded in approval before leading me to our destination.

Yet again, my mission was put on hold. My daring escape would have to wait.

Instead, I spent the entire walk in mental distress. I wanted to apologise to him, for the trouble I had clearly caused him. For my selfishness. For Alec's rage. But I didn't know how and I could feel my mouth gaping open and closed like a fish as I came up with new ways to open the conversation. Yet, each one failed before it was even presented, none seeming to match the gravity I felt was owed to the situation.

I finally gave up once we turned the stairs and approached the throne room. The doors opened before we even reached them, the vampires on the other side both expecting our arrival and identifying our footsteps behind the massive barrier. We stepped across the threshold and I blinked to adjust to the change. The openness of the extravagant room was a stark contrast to the dark and empty halls.

Aro's familiar greeting echoed in the hall and my name bounced off the walls. "I do hope we caught you before your bedtime."

The infantile implication of his words bothered me. Not for the reason being that they were clearly older than me, but rather because I legitimately had the rights of a child. The rules were undeclared, but clearly not optional; Come when called, go where you're told, eat at a determined time, always have an escort.

I spotted three of my escorts sprinkled around the room. The absence of the other two let slip a sort of disappointment before I shoved it away. I'd done nothing but think and talk of the male half of the pair the entire day. Almost to the point of obsession and the disappointment faded into a squeamish nausea at this realization. I truly was like a child — a schoolgirl with nothing better to do than gossip and bicker with boys.

It was as immature as I'd ever been and I felt as if I'd mentally aged backwards. Still, there was a sort of exhilaration to it all. I'd never had the opportunity to be what one was at that age, a mix of naivety and a loss of innocence. I suppose most of that stage was influenced by friends. Which I'd certainly had, but I never formally attended school and if I did with my father, it was only for a short time.

The nuns had essentially taken care of my formal education. I would play with the children that came to mass at the nunnery every Sunday. But I'd always been a bit of an old soul and the personality didn't mesh with the others as we aged. Perhaps that was why Jane and I got along so well. All she'd ever had was her brother and while they were close, I wondered if she and I just happened to fill in a missing piece for the other.

My growing relationships within the Volturi appeared to be filling in the gaps of my social developments and education among a similar age group. Well, physical age group. And I think I was genuinely happy with them.

All three thrones were occupied by their constituents and Felix's royalty analogy won out again. For each man embodied an aura that could only be described as regal, in every sense of the word. Carlisle stood to the right of the thrones at the bottom of the stairs. His golden irises made him stick out like a sore thumb among the sea of red.

The guard hovered in designated spots against the walls. Many with cloaks and a far more formal wear than most donned around the castle when off duty. Their presence was solid, an undeniable force of power but as bleak as a well. I scanned over the group until something peculiar caught my attention.

In the far back corner of the room, a hunched form was covered by a coat or a blanket. It was only slightly hidden behind and in-between two members of the lower guard. It must have been alive, as the thing was making only the smallest movement, rocking back and forth on the hard floor. I tried to determine the nature of the figure, however, my attention was forced away from whatever it was to give the kings the respect they so deserved.

Aro was tapping the tips of his fingers together, waiting for my reply. "What's going on?"

Caius' raspy voice injected itself into the air, "you will witness your first trial under our laws." The vagueness of his statement was purposeful and he watched, waiting for me to squirm and question him further. I wondered if the so called 'trial' had anything to do with the creature across the room. Before I could think of a more specific question, Aro broke his false brother's icy intent.

"Exciting, is it not?" I nodded, to assuage his desire for something more than I could give him.

"But first —"

The doors through which Prosper and I had entered opened once more with a distinctive groan. "Wonderful timing, Jane. Alec." I bit my lip in an outward attempt to gain control of my nerve as Aro welcomed his favourite members of the guard. In the corner of my eye, the twins took their place on the left hand of the throne. Jane's face was unreadable, yet her brother was glowering at Prosper.

He's never going near you again.

Beside me, Prosper took a strategic, single step away from me. He didn't leave to join the other guard members around the room, however, and Aro didn't dismiss him.

"As I was saying, there is a matter we wished to discuss first. As you know, we have yet to decide the date you will officially become one of us." My eyes narrowed. Aro moved to the edge of his seat, a curious sprinkle of delight in his eyes. "How much do you know about the transformation?"

He spoke about it as if it were more than what Dracula and other stories had suggested. Not that I knew much vampire lore beyond the scope of factual events in history, but I had assumptions as one does. "It hasn't exactly been at the forefront of my mind."

His head swayed up and down in consideration. "When you shared your theory with us this morning, our dear friend, Carlisle, thought of an additional factor that we had yet to consider." He cut off and I raised my eyebrows, waiting for him to continue.

Instead, Carlisle stepped forward, hands folded behind his back. "Your theory may have more weight than you originally entertained."

I tried to keep my tone from being too rude as I interrupted him, "sorry, but, exactly how familiar are you with my disorder?"

"I've been studying medicine for a very long time, though I must admit I have never personally met anyone like you." A vampire doctor. A doctor vampire. The very concept was a contradiction in itself. One took lives, the other saved them. I had so many more questions, but the one with the loudest voice repeated in my head - was this the reason his eyes were gold?

"It is Carlisle's belief that the transformation process may not be as simple with you, as it would for any other human."

I frowned, finding myself automatically relying on Carlisle's medicinal title for my information rather than Aro's. "Why is that?"

Carlisle explained, "the change lasts for at least three days and is especially arduous. The minute the venom enters the veins, an individual is overcome with excruciating pain." He kept his voice even, as if he predicted his words would instigate an adverse reaction. As his eyes flickered to my right, I realized that it was not only my reaction he was concerned about. "Not everyone survives it."

I could feel all the eyes of the room on me. But I stayed locked on Carlisle, following his speech but only picking up on the words that seemed most important. I struggled to both listen and process what he was saying, but I could feel its weight and I think I already knew.

"With your unique condition, I suspect that if you were to undergo the change with your current inexperience with pain...you would not survive the transformation."

The fullness of the room became apparent to me then. It was odd to be having a conversation of such a sensitive nature in front of so many people. A conversation for three, being observed as if we were a play. Though I felt no need to put on a performance, I did wish for a blanket, or a hoodie. Something that would shield me from all the elements of the world as they picked on me with the arrogance of a bully. The only sound in the room came from the corner, where the large ball seemed to be sniffling. It sounded pitiful.

"I would die." My eyes flickered to Alec without prompt. His face was stoic, but his eyes caught mine and for the first time, he didn't immediately retreat to emptiness. Yet, I almost wished they had. I had never imagined the boy could ever appear so utterly helpless and it wasn't an expression he seemed to have the ability to hide. The suddenness of the news seemed to have crashed into him, disarming the protections he had placed around himself.

Was it possible that the near guarantee of my death scared him? Was it possible that he cared whether I lived or died? The schoolgirl in me shied away from the idea, not wanting to get her hopes up. Hope that I refused to acknowledge.

Jane grabbed his hand and I tore my eyes away.

"It is possible." Carlisle warned and I was sure he would rather be anyone else in that moment...A vampire doctor. Wow.

"I assume this doesn't change your minds, though." I eyed Aro, "does it?"

For such an archaic man, Aro didn't seem to get bitter sarcasm. Perhaps he'd chosen to ignore it, but it was most likely that he'd convinced himself I had no qualms with the life he was forcing on me. "Your transition will be delayed by this, I fear. Though Carlisle believes he may have a solution to remedy this inconvenience."

I allowed the men to continue feeding me information as Carlisle stepped in to provide the explanation to Aro's comments. "The actual feeling of the pain during the transformation is not dissimilar to Jane's gift. If you were to be exposed to it in structured sessions, gradually introducing incremental doses, your chances of survival may be much greater."

I waited for an outraged response to expel itself from me at this news. They seemed to be oblivious to the fact that the other option was for me to live my life and not immediately die. Apparently, they wanted me to be a vampire so badly, that they were willing to risk my life without any guarantee. To design a step by step plan based on one doctor's theory that had been based on my own delusional, unsubstantiated idea.

I should be upset that I was expected to simply accept my fate and allow them to subject me to the most painful experience a vampire ever encounters not once, but several times on purpose. I should be livid that this was unnecessary torture, all in preparation for an event that did not need to happen. And I was. However, there was one detail of it all that I had little to no quarrel with.

Jane's gift.

I glanced over to the shorter twin, who had her entire focus on her leader. Carlisle picked up on this and added, "If you were both willing, that is."

"Master." Her voice joined our play, her role being one of uncertainty. Aro nodded and she made her way up the three stairs to offer him her hand. His head tilted down for a moment as she shared her thoughts.

He emerged from her mind, his eyes flickering to Alec before giving one curt shake of his head. "For now, there is no other way, dear one." The term of endearment surprised me, but there was no acknowledgement of the tenderness in his response from Jane. Instead, she retreated back to her position. This time, she kept her hands to herself and her posture grew even more stoic than before.

Aro seemed to pay her response no mind either, because he clapped his hands together gleefully. "Excellent! Then, I suppose there is only one final matter for this evening." His cloak spun around him as he returned to his chair. The retreat puzzled me, before Caius rose with the intensity of a Bond villain. As if this was their cue, two guard members dragged the whimpering form in the corner to collapse on the marble floor between me and the masters. At a painfully human pace, the form lifted its head.

Almost simultaneously, my heart seemed to shatter and enter what felt like what I assumed was cardiac arrest.

The door to the pub blew open with a gust of wind. A short, round man hobbled in, his left hand clutching a rather shiny cane. He sat at the bar and rested the cane on his lap, raising his right hand to get the bartender's attention.

Caius seemed pleased by my response. "You are familiar with Mr. Tima, are you not, girl?" I couldn't answer, my eyes taking in the sight of my father's friend. The confident, disgruntled, demeanour that the man had carried in the comfort of his friendly neighborhood pub had vanished. His eyes glistened, but not with tears - with fear. I'd never seen fear in someone's eyes as telling and haunting as it was in his. He was absolutely terrified.

"Aro —" Aro held up a hand to silence his friend. Carlisle hesitated, but stepped back, respecting the orders of the man in power.

"A short time ago, Victor Tima," Caius circled the man who cowered away at any angle he possibly could. None of which provided the distance he desired from the relic. "The Volturi allowed you to keep your life, provided you continued to procure a unique array of art for our collection and did not interfere in our affairs again. Was this not our agreement?"

I'd never heard Caius speak more than a few words at once. The sound his voice produced slithered through the air like a snake and I realized that his words weren't for volume, so much as they were intended to prolong the impending doom his victims were experiencing. We were his victims and he was relishing in our fear before he would deliver the first strike.

A whimpered, "yes."

"If not for Saffiya, you may have continued to exist under this gracious condition." Ouch. I should have rushed to the man's side, shown an ounce of humanity that was absent from the situation. But I was frozen. Caius was right, this was all my fault. They must have found out he was helping me. That I was to meet with him.

Aro. My mind flashed to the ignorance I had shown in the last few days. How easily I'd handed over my every thought to the vampire, without even a second thought. How could I have been so foolish? I closed my eyes, my head falling to the side as I drowned myself in shame and self-pity.

Caius took pleasure in my growing stress, continuing with his torment. "Last confession, human. Tell the girl the truth about her father." Victor was slow to answer him and the man's eyes didn't leave me. "Speak, human," Caius hissed.

The old man croaked, "your dad...he died."

I retreated from the claim, unwilling to give it any credence. Caius had to be making him say this. It made no sense. He'd asked me to meet him, which meant he had to have some information on my father. I reviewed his words from that night...'I'll get you out of here.' "But, I thought..." It dawned on me then that he never had any information to find my father. Getting me out of the castle wasn't about my father. He had been trying to save me from the monsters. 'Careful kid, boys like him never have good intentions.'

Victor's voice never lost its gruffness, "he was on his way to meet me, but the story was he got nabbed by Interpol." The story. Inside secrets passed through criminals to keep up on the current happenings of the crime world. Straight from the horse's mouth. Like a game of telephone, the messages could easily be distorted. But there wasn't much room for conspiracy with something as finite as 'dead'. "He tried to run, but..."

Running when cornered was messy. Slipping under the local cops' noses added to your resume and kept you off the grid. While reinventing one's identity was a nuisance, it was better than escaping custody. Which, when prepared for could be smoothly coordinated, but a con man's credibility favoured an invisible record over a flawless prison escape.

My head began to shake of its own accord. My breathing was rough as I insisted, "my dad would never run."

He was never without a backup plan. And there was always a backup plan for the backup plan. No room for error. It was our promise, so that we would never lose each other. I'd seen him caught up with the police. He could charm his way out of any situation and if he couldn't he'd figure out an escape before they could contact any international authority to transfer custody to.

My view of my father, even now, painted him as invincible. It is an idea that we all have of our parents. Until the moment we realise that they're not superheroes. They were just our parents, only human. Flawed and human. My father was just my father. He was only human. But humans...humans can get caught. This was that moment for me, when I had to wake up to the reality that my father was not all powerful. He was dead.

Caius waved a hand, as if suddenly bored with my grief, and returned to his seat. "Prosper."

"Wait - no!"

With an exasperated sigh, Caius instructed, "control your human, boy."

I lunged forward, but my hands were secured behind my back in an instant. I struggled against my captor but the grip held firm, preventing me from interfering in the Volturi's sentencing.

Caius jeered mockingly at me, "if only you did as you were told."

Victor cast one last sorrowful look at me, "I'm sorry, kid."

Without so much as an acknowledgement of my protest, Prosper obeyed his unspoken order. He flashed to Victor's side and lifted him up by his shoulder. The plump man, dangling and before he could react, the vampire sunk its teeth into his neck. A tug on my hands tried to turn me away from the horror, but I stood my ground. I wanted my father's friend to see something not entirely evil before he died.

Though I didn't see myself as 'not evil' right now. And I think as much as I tried to convince myself my observation was for him, it was not. I was punishing, forcing myself to face my greed and the result of my actions. I watched as each sip the vampire seemed to take encouraged the older man's body to fade until his body slid back down to the floor. Lifeless. Gone. Taking all hope of finding my father with him.

I slowly tore my eyes away. Each of the three kings were watching me, but Carlisle had hung his head to the floor.

My knees wobbled and I relied on the person behind me to support my weight. I was extremely grateful for their presence. The hands had released mine, one settled on my hip and the other at the middle of my back to support me without it being obvious to the leaders before us. He had become more of a protector than a captor.

The room was waiting for my reaction and I didn't want to give them — especially not Caius — the satisfaction of a breakdown from me. This was a very different side to the Volturi than the one I'd been exposed to. Yes, I'd seen glimpses, heard the screams down the hall, and Felix had insisted but Aro had always given me the show. And I'd been too distracted by foolish escapades to defend myself against it.

I was messing with a world I did not understand. One in which I had no control. To have believed I could have escaped was arrogant and it seemed everyone but I, had paid dearly for the mistake. My future had been decided and though I was loathe to even entertain the thought, I had to consider giving up and giving in.

Victor's body still lied on the floor in front of us.

I had to choose my next words carefully.

"I'm tired."

Caius' lips twisted up in satisfaction at my demure attitude. I could feel the tension exit out of my protector behind me and a squeeze on my hip brought another wave of comfort.

"You are dismissed." I had hardly turned an inch when Aro's voice shattered the world once again.

"Saffiya." His eyes were dark, power seeping out of his every pore, "you would do well to accept your fate. The Volturi do not give second chances."

Carlisle was watching me sadly from the sidelines, but he didn't dare intervene. There was nothing he could do. None of the guard were looking at me. Their faces all entirely empty, mindless. Jane was standing alone now, eyeing my protector carefully. My protector. Alec.

Alec began to lead me from the room, when Marcus contributed his first sentence of the conversation. In a hollow tone, he offered, "our condolences for your father."

"And his friend," Caius hissed. My head moved from the other men to the most sadistic of the three kings. A cruel grin hailed his face. He was baiting me. It worked.

Fire whipped through my veins, but Marcus must have seen it because he acted before I could.

"Alec."

With that, I was swept into the air and carried away from the scene of the crime.