Chapter 4.

Southeastern Russia, 1949.

Jasper watched the waves thrash the rocks, occasionally glancing back to try and catch a glimpse of what Alice was painting. She was perched on a high rock, adding careful lines to a canvas, never looking up at the sea. It could be a painting of anything, really. Alice only wanted to be out there so she could focus on the churning waves. She said it awakened her 'artistic side.'

In two weeks, it would be their first anniversary.

He had gotten her a new canvas, the paints, and built this little cottage in Russia that bordered the Sea of Japan. She had to have seen it coming, but she was over the moon anyway. She took him to a football match in Moscow, predicting that it would be overcast the entire afternoon. She had shuffled through dozens, if not hundreds, of futures and found that he enjoyed the game more than any material gift. She claimed he would be a big fan one day.

Jasper planned to spend years there, wandering by the sea. It was one of the real gifts of immortality – no urgency, no worries that their time together would come to a gradual end. He enjoyed the sound of the water, the cry of seabirds, the smell of salt, and the peace radiating from Alice.

His plans for eternity were interrupted.

Alice stiffened up suddenly in the dead of night, dropped her paintbrush.

Jasper rushed to her side, found that faraway look in her eyes, felt her emotions lock up, shut down, as she entirely left the present moment. It only lasted a second, maybe less, before the future released her, and her worry, anxiety, and urgency washed over him.

She said, "It's the coven – they'll be here by dawn. Five of them. Old acquaintances. It looks like they want to take me somewhere…"

"Italy?" Jasper said.

"It's hazy." Alice was a world away, not looking at him, but his question evoked a flash of doubt in her. "I can't see much beyond the fight."

"Do you see us winning?"

Again with the doubt, and then fear. As much as she wanted to be in control, she was too emotionally invested to convincingly lie to him. She still tried. "Yes."

"You see us losing," Jasper said.

Alice shook her head firmly, "I see a lot of possibilities. It all seems to center around their reaction to seeing you. You employ different strategies in every encounter and it changes the outcome. Please choose one, if you don't mind."

Jasper said, "What have you seen that has scared you?"

She twisted her lips, "I wish you were easier to lie to."

"Tell me, Alice."

"I saw… I'm not sure where they want to take me, because in every instance where they manage to kill you, I die as well."

Jasper was baffled, unable to control his tone. "I thought they wanted you alive!"

"They do. Do you think I would just surrender if you were gone?"

Jasper imagined his dainty mate trying to fight off a coven of five – the thought of even one person trying to lay hands on her caused a visceral reaction in him. He imagined the coven would try to contain him, to use him to make her cooperate, but Jasper was very strong. He would have to be killed to be stopped.

He had a rudimentary grasp of how her abilities worked. She once described it as a thousand little strings, different paths, all diverging from certain decisions. She could work through them at an incredible speed, making decisions for the future while living in the present. It was the clearest for their own species, and particularly for herself and for him. She saw their family in the distance, the visions out of focus and always shifting. Since this encounter was such an imminent, pivotal moment, the visions were sharper. He could feel her focus pulling away from him.

Jasper fixated on the horrific image of his mate being destroyed, using it as motivation to find a strategy to save her. He used similar tactics when he fought in the war, though the stakes were never so high. His existence hinged on hers.

He hopped onto one of the taller rocks and surveyed their surroundings – the battlefield. He had almost a century of wisdom to fall back on and his unusual beginnings gave him an advantage over most others of his kind. Vampires were eternal creatures, generally adverse to fighting for fear of losing that eternity. Reputation and companionship were critical for some, and useless for others. Jasper did not employ the same fighting style as his kin, never giving himself over to his instincts, a born strategist who could work past the rabid hunter in his soul.

Alice came out of her reverie only a minute into his planning. She said, "You have your mind made up. It was fascinating, watching things change while you thought it through. It was almost like the way I look into the future. I never stop being amazed by you."

It was an odd statement, considering she was the amazing one in the relationship, but Jasper appreciated the praise. Hers was the only opinion that mattered. "You see a way to win?"

"We win," Alice said simply. "You are the way."

"What changed?"

"Your motivation, I imagine."

Her destruction. He could probably accomplish many impossible things to keep her safe.

Alice laid out the strategy – his strategy – in great detail, describing their opponents as if she had already met them. She confirmed his suspicion that they would all come for him first, and decided it was best to divert their attention from her. Alice was small, diminutive, easy to overlook. Her abilities made her a deadly opponent, and as far as they knew she was completely unique. No one would suspect their enemy could see the future, anticipate every move.

When the coven arrived, Jasper and Alice were waiting for them on the beach.

He recognized the vampire from New York and sacrificed his composure, letting out a snarl. Michael. He was the reason these other vampires were here, the reason Alice was in danger.

"Funny seeing you again," Michael said.

He was trying to be cocky, confident, but no amount of confidence could steel him against Jasper's cold stare. Jasper was letting his emotions radiate, projecting his hostility while promoting a certain weakness and vulnerability for Alice. It was a strategy he had not tried before, and he was pleased to find that the other vampires seemed almost incapable of focusing on his mate. He made her insignificant, barely there, and made himself a beacon for the eyes.

He had their singular focus.

It was a pairing of two covens, with Michael being the odd one out. His companions were matched pairs. One pair consisted of a very large male with a tracking ability – Alice saw him guiding the group to their home, always finding them, no matter where they were. His mate was near to his size, her features distinctly angled. Both had sinister smiles on their faces, grim amusement in their minds. Perfectly matched hunters. The other pair was much younger. Jasper felt their youth in their mindless aggression, their excitement – too much excitement for combat, for a vampire with any sense. It was not unusual to see these two pairs associating, but they were not a functional unit. Not an army. Not a team. A mob of misplaced wild animals following the only one with any purpose – the big male. He was the lynchpin.

Jasper knew that none of them were Volturi, because the battle would have ended already. Maria said the Volturi did not fight so much as slaughter. Jasper thought, then, that Michael could detect abilities in their kind, and that he intended to bring Alice to the Volturi as a tribute. He might want to gain favor, or perhaps absolve some past crime. He knew little about their politics, only that they were ancient and powerful, and unforgiving.

He assigned them ranks, values, reaffirming the plan he had worked out with Alice. Her descriptions were flawless.

Jasper let a long silence follow Michael's taunt, and then said, "Leave now."

Jasper had experienced a life of brutal war, but for many vampires, open aggression was avoided. It was easy, then, for Jasper to grasp their emotions, to make sure they felt the threat he posed. As their eyes poured over the scars on his arms and throat, their confidence withered. Jasper promoted those feelings, pressing his will upon them. It would not be enough to turn them away – Alice had predicted as much – but she had asked him to try, anyway.

The tracker stepped forward. "We haven't introduced ourselves. I am Henry." His voice lacked the mocking arrogance of Michael, expressing only an honest curiosity. Jasper had met a few of his kind over the years, finding trackers to be the most unattached and inhuman of their race. It didn't make them evil by default, but they tended to treat life like a game.

Jasper never bothered to have an opinion of them until now. It was not of consequence, because none had ever be unwise enough challenged him.

As serious as the situation was, Jasper found a little excitement in this encounter. He said, "I'm not interested in who you are."

Henry narrowed his eyes a fraction, contemplating his next move.

Alice spoke up, "He's quite serious. I advise you return to Florida."

Henry beheld her with wonder. It was very hard for him to keep his focus on her, his eyes constantly trying to trail off as Jasper toyed with his emotions. Uncertainty followed, though it was absent on Henry's face. Alice had said that giving some hint of her ability would unnerve them further, but also intrigue them. Little curiosities drove trackers to extremes.

"You were right," Henry said, looking incredulously at Michael. His focus returned to Alice, hunger tainting his innocent curiosity, "Can you read minds?"

Alice played helpless very well. She took a half-step behind Jasper, feigned nonchalance, "I think you and your friends should leave."

It was uncanny, how accurate her visions were.

Alice had it all worked out, and Jasper had complete faith in her.

He turned his back, as if to leave, and the coven suddenly attacked. Jasper whipped around, got hands on the tracker, and threw him at Alice. She had already moved several yards away, evading one of the females, and as the tracker came toward her she moved like a viper, freeing his head from his body, like he was made of paper rather than stone.

In the seconds that followed, Jasper took on the second male, who failed to react to the demise of his companion. Jasper only felt the flicker of surprise in the other vampire before his eternity came to a screeching halt, his body dropping into the sand. Jasper turned on his heel, closing the gap between him and Alice. His mate was dodging around with the aggressive female, almost seeming to enjoy predicting her every attack, wearing her down and frustrating her. While they danced, the older female had attempted an attack – Alice never reacted, because Jasper cut the female off, grappling with her only briefly before he finished it. When three were down, Jasper joined the dance, making quick work of the exhausted young female.

Only one remained.

Michael.

Jasper beheld the coward, who had hesitated in the initial rush. He was standing there, frozen, a few seconds of indecision bringing his group down to one. And by the time he realized he should have acted, should have run, Jasper was upon him. He locked him in place, assaulting him with tendrils of paralyzing fear, hopelessness, digging into his body like a parasite.

Michael accepted his fate, aware that Jasper was not going to spare him. He was a bug caught in a spiderweb, giving in as the web closed around him, as the shadow of the hunter darkened the sky.

Jasper said, "You intended to take her to the Volturi?"

Michael was a fool to come for them. He knew that now. Jasper encouraged the turmoil within the other vampire, twisted it, poisoned it, "Yes."

Jasper knew the answer, but it still provoked him. He could be kind, loving, forgiving, but he was also capable of cruelty, rage. Michael sunk to his knees, his face becoming blank, as Jasper burned a lifetime of agony, grief, and devastation into his mind. Jasper had rarely used such force on the battlefield, because most needed far less persuasion to give up the fight. Surrender was not the intention here. Jasper already had that. He wanted Michael to suffer.

He approached his prey, and said, "Did you tell the Volturi about her?"

Michael's eyes were distant. "No."

"Does anyone else know about her?"

"No."

Jasper ended it, carefully severing his connection to Michael before he killed him.

Alice appeared at his side, slipping her hand into his. "I told you so."

Her presence entirely dissipated the storm inside of him. It was remarkable, the effect she had. Jasper squeezed her hand. "I had to be sure. I'll burn the bodies. Finish your painting."

She hopped back up to her perch, pulled a fresh paintbrush out. It was nearing dawn, nearing a time when they might have to go home as humans began to explore the beaches. Alice was never in a hurry. She had the future down to an exact science.

She flipped her canvas to show him what she was working on.

It was a painting of his face, the exact expression he was currently wearing as he looked up at her.

He would never quite get used to that. She had been working on that painting all night.

Alice said, "Spooky, huh?"