.

19. TIME
(RACE)

My ankle was throbbing.

I hadn't really paid much attention to it during our mad dash out of Forks. I'd been too focused on the clock, on whether or not Alice could get us to the airport in time to catch our flight. We'd made it with only seconds to spare, but now we were sitting on the tarmac, watching our precious time bleed away as the crew made their last minute checks before takeoff.

I tried to stretch out my left leg, but the space was too limited. Rotating my ankle did no good either—it didn't move that way anymore—and I winced at the resulting stab of pain. Well, I deserved it, didn't I? This was my fault, after all. If I hadn't concocted my ridiculous plan to jump off a cliff, if I hadn't followed through with it so that Alice would see what I was doing, she would never have misunderstood what she'd seen. She would never have told Rosalie, and Rosalie would never have told Bella. And we wouldn't be racing to Italy right now in a desperate attempt to stop Bella from ending her own life . . . a desperate attempt that might very well be doomed to failure.

It felt like hours had passed when we finally began to taxi away from the gate. I watched the scenery roll by outside the window as we picked up speed, as the ground fell away beneath us, but there was no comfort in knowing we were finally on our way.

We were still gaining altitude when Alice reached up to lift the phone from the back of the seat in front of her. Her voice was low, but I was sitting right beside her. I could hear almost every word.

"I can't be sure," I heard her say. "She hasn't left yet, but her course is already set. She'll be there before we are." She paused to listen to the voice on the other end of the line. Was it Jasper? Probably.

"I can't see that, either, but she'll start by just asking. If that doesn't work, I've seen her attacking a member of the guard, lifting a car over her head in the main square . . . mostly things that would expose us. She knows that's the fastest way to force a reaction." She paused again.

"No, you can't." Her voice lowered. I had to strain to hear her now. "Tell Emmett no . . . Well, go after Emmett and Rosalie and bring them back. Think about it, Jasper. If she sees any of us, you know she'll just be that much more desperate."

She nodded her head. "Exactly. I think Edward is the only chance . . . if there is a chance. I'll do everything that can be done, but prepare Charlie . . . The odds aren't good."

She laughed softly, but the sound was hollow. "I've thought of that . . . Yes, I promise." And then some new, more pleading tone came into her voice. "Don't follow me. I promise, Jasper. One way or another, I'll get out . . . I love you."

Hanging up the phone, she closed her eyes and leaned back against the seat. She took a deep breath, then slowly let it out. "I hate lying to him," she said. Was she talking to me or to herself? I couldn't be sure. Maybe she didn't know, either.

"You told them not to come," I noted. Part of me wondered why—we needed all the help we could get—but part of me was afraid I already knew the answer.

"I've run it a hundred times. I thought we could try to stop Bella ourselves—if Emmett could get to her in time to grab her, we might be able to stop her long enough to convince her you're alive—but no matter how we do it, she always sees us coming, and she acts before we can stop her. She'll throw a Buick through a wall or something, and the Volturi will take her down." She opened her eyes to stare up at the ceiling.

"That's the other problem, of course, the thing I couldn't say to Jasper. Because if they're there and the Volturi kill Bella, they'll fight them." She turned toward me. "If there were any chance we could win, if there were a way that the four of us could save Bella by fighting for her, maybe it would be different. But we can't, and Edward, I can't lose Jasper like that."

I could see it in her eyes—she was pleading for me to understand, to forgive her. She couldn't risk Jasper, no matter what, even if it meant losing Bella. I nodded faintly.

"What lie did you tell him?" I asked.

"I promised him I would get out before they killed me, too." She smiled grimly. "It's not something I can guarantee, not by a long shot."

It felt like there was a knife twisting in my gut. My fault. My fault entirely. I swallowed down the guilt as best I could.

"Tell me about the Volturi, Alice."

The words were barely out of my mouth when a strange sensation began to creep up the back of my neck . . . the feeling that I was being watched. I turned my head just as Alice glanced over my shoulder toward the man sitting in the aisle seat. He wore a dark suit and an expensive looking tie—a businessman, obviously. His laptop was balanced on his knees, but he was looking down at the aisle as if he'd been paying no attention to the laptop . . . or to our conversation. We watched as he very carefully opened the computer and put on headphones. He never glanced in our direction, but something about his movements felt a bit too deliberate, like he knew he'd been caught trying to eavesdrop, and he was trying to look innocent.

I leaned closer as I turned back to Alice.

"I was surprised you recognized the name," she continued, her whispered words too close to my ear for anyone else to overhear, "that you understood so immediately what it meant when I said she was going to them in Italy. I thought I would have to explain. How much did Bella tell you?"

"Not much. I know they live in Italy. I know Carlisle spent some time with them and that they're thousands of years old. And I know they have no respect for human life."

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her nod.

"You have to understand," she continued, her voice slower, more careful now. "We Cullens are unique in more ways than you know. It's abnormal for so many of us to live together in peace. It's the same for Tanya's family in the north, and Carlisle speculates that abstaining makes it easier for us to be civilized, to form bonds based on love rather than survival or convenience. Even James's little coven of three was unusually large . . . and you saw how easily Laurent left them. Our kind travel alone, or in pairs, as a general rule. Carlisle's family is the biggest in existence, as far as I know, with the one exception. The Volturi."

"There were three of them originally—Aro, Caius, and Marcus."

"The ones in Carlisle's painting," I murmured. Alice nodded again.

"Two females joined them over time, and the five of them make up the family. I'm not sure, but I suspect that their age is what gives them the ability to live peacefully together. They are well over three thousand years old. Or maybe it's their gifts that give them extra tolerance. Like Charlie, Jasper, and I, Aro and Marcus are . . . talented." She frowned thoughtfully. "Or maybe it's just their love of power that binds them together. Royalty is an apt description."

But I wasn't worried about the ties that bound this strange, new family. I was still focused on something she'd said just a few seconds earlier. "Talented how?" I asked.

My eyes followed Alice's as she glanced over my shoulder toward the businessman again. I turned to see that his headphones were still firmly in place. He didn't seem to be trying to eavesdrop anymore.

"Aro is a mind reader," she explained. "With one touch, he can read every thought you've ever had. Marcus can sense relationships. He can tell how strong or how weak a friendship is or how deeply in love two people might be."

I was glad she gave me a moment to process this new information. I wasn't sure what to think about Marcus, but the idea of someone knowing every thought I'd ever had was decidedly unsettling. Then again, if I ever encountered Aro, I'd have much greater things to worry about than whether or not he knew about the crush I'd had on my fourth grade teacher.

"I thought you said there were more of them . . ."

"Those are just the five who make up the family. That doesn't include their guard."

"Guard?" I asked. This hadn't exactly sounded good at the beginning, but it was sounding worse by the minute.

"There were nine members of the guard that were permanent the last time we heard. Others are more . . . transitory. It changes. And many of them are gifted as well—with formidable gifts, gifts that make what I can do look like a parlor trick. The Volturi chose them for their abilities, physical or otherwise."

"They don't get into many confrontations," she continued. "No one is stupid enough to mess with them. They stay in their city, leaving only as duty calls."

"What duty?"

"Bella didn't tell you what they do?"

I shook my head.

"There's a reason we call them royalty . . . the ruling class. Over the millennia, they have assumed the position of enforcing our rules—which actually translates to punishing transgressors. They fulfill that duty decisively."

"They're the police," I said, thinking aloud, "and the judge . . . and the jury."

Alice nodded.

"So, what are these rules, exactly?"

"It's not that complicated, really. There's only one core restriction, and you can probably figure it out for yourself."

It only took me a few seconds. "Keep the secret," I whispered. She nodded.

"It makes sense, and most of us don't need policing. But, after a few centuries, sometimes one of us gets bored . . . or crazy. I don't know. And then the Volturi step in before it can compromise them, or the rest of us."

"So Bella's plan is to expose that she isn't human . . ."

"And in their own city, the city they've secretly held for three thousand years, since the time of the Etruscans. They are so protective of their city that they don't allow hunting within its walls. Volterra is probably the safest city in the world—from vampire attack, at the very least."

I nodded, considering, but something didn't add up.

"If they don't leave, how do they . . . eat?"

"They bring in their food from the outside, from quite far away sometimes. It gives their guard something to do when they're not out annihilating mavericks. Or protecting Volterra from exposure . . ."

And scenarios like this one. Neither of us really wanted to finish the sentence, but we both heard the words, all the same.

"I doubt they've ever had a situation quite like this," she muttered. "You don't get a lot of suicidal vampires."

I leaned forward in my seat at her words. For a moment, I could barely breathe. My fault, all my fault. It took me several seconds to realize that Alice had leaned forward too, that she was rubbing my back sympathetically.

"We'll do what we can," she whispered in my ear. "It's not over yet."

"No, not yet," I managed to respond. But the odds were not in our favor. Even the understanding that I wouldn't have to live very long if we failed was little comfort. If Bella died—if I died—Alice would die with us.

She must have read that fear on my face because she sighed and gave my shoulder a gentle squeeze.

"Now, let me concentrate. I'm going to try to see what she's planning."

She leaned back, letting her head fall against the seat. Closing her eyes, she pressed one hand against her face, massaging her temples with her fingertips.

I watched her carefully for several moments, waiting for some great revelation that our situation had changed, that something had increased our chances of saving Bella, but Alice said nothing. Eventually, she grew so still that I imagined the other passengers on the plane just assumed she was asleep. Only I knew otherwise, but as the minutes ticked by, I was left with nothing but my own thoughts.

How had everything gone so terribly wrong? I had never intended for any of this to happen. I had only hoped to get Alice's attention, to get someone's attention so they would come to check on me. How else could I tell them Victoria was back when I didn't know where they were? How else could I let them know the pack needed help when I didn't know how to get in touch with them? But as the plane flew slowly eastward, I was forced to admit that I'd been lying to myself the entire time.

I hadn't jumped off a cliff to help Sam or any of the others, and while stopping Victoria would have been a welcome bonus, it wasn't why I'd been so eager to risk my life jumping into the angry waters of the Pacific as a storm rolled in. I'd been trying to get Alice's attention, yes, but only because it was the only way I had of getting Bella's attention, too. I'd been trying to make her see how miserable I was, how desperately I needed her to come back, even if it was only for ten minutes. Or five minutes. Just long enough for me to beg her to stay.

But nothing had worked out the way I'd wanted it to. And now Bella wanted to die, and there might be nothing I could do to save her.

My misery had reached entirely new levels by the time we finally landed in New York City. Alice didn't move, not even after the plane touched down with a jarring impact. I had to call her name several times before she opened her eyes.

"Anything new?" I asked. Beside me, the businessman was putting away his laptop. He seemed to have lost all interest in us.

"Not exactly," she whispered. "She made some calls, and then she destroyed her phone. She'll be in Italy very soon, but she hasn't decided what to say to them yet."

We had to run to catch our next flight. As soon as the plane left the ground, Alice was on the phone again. This time, her voice was so low that I could hear only scattered words of her conversation.

"What did she say, Finn? . . . Yes, I know . . . No, he's fine. He's with me . . . yes, truly . . . wondering . . . . ask you . . . . No, I was watching something else . . . I see . . . thought it would be something like that . . . No, don't come . . . If this doesn't . . . what you promised . . . Yes, it is. . . . I will. . . Thank you." She hung up the phone and leaned back in the seat. I waited for her to say something, but she remained silent.

"That was Finn, right?" I asked after a long moment. I recognized the name. He was one of the members of Tanya's family in Denali, but aside from the fact that he had a reputation as a bit of a lady's man and had recently returned from a trip to Iceland, I didn't know much about him.

Alice nodded.

"She called him, didn't she? She asked him to do something for her . . ."

"Yes," Alice answered. "She did." I waited, but she didn't elaborate any further.

"Is that bad?" I finally asked.

She didn't answer, but her frown told me everything I needed to know.

"Someday, if we get out of this, Bella will explain it all. I would tell you but . . . I promised her never to speak of it." Still frowning faintly, she patted me on the shoulder. Then she settled back in her seat and closed her eyes. I waited for several moments, but as before, she was as still as a statue. I eventually gave up, turning toward the darkened window. The next thing I knew, Alice was shaking me awake. I hadn't expected to fall asleep, but I didn't feel like I'd been under for very long. I must have only just nodded off.

"What is it, Alice?" I whispered. I tried to keep my voice low, but it seemed unnaturally loud in the otherwise quiet cabin. Everyone else was asleep.

"It's not wrong." She was smiling. "It's right. They're deliberating, but they've decided to tell her no."

It took me a few seconds to completely understand.

"They aren't going to . . ."

"No. They haven't told her, but I can see what they're going to say."

I sat up straighter, suddenly alert. Noticing that we weren't asleep, a flight attendant crept softly toward us. "Can I get either of you a pillow?" he asked quietly.

"No, thank you." Alice's smile was bright as she beamed up at him. He looked dazed as he turned and stumbled away.

Annoyed by his poorly timed interruption, I glared at the back of his head as he made his way back down the aisle. When he was a safe distance away, Alice leaned over to whisper in my ear.

"They're interested in her," she explained. "Do you remember what I said about Aro's gift?"

I nodded.

"For thousands of years, his ability has never failed him, but he can't read Bella's mind. There are others, other members of the guard, whose gifts don't work against her, either."

"Why not?" I asked, pulling away just far enough to meet her eyes, but Alice had no answers.

"Bella has always been immune to some of our gifts. We know that she's a shield of some kind, but she's never been able to figure out how to control it. It just . . . happens."

I nodded faintly. Bella had explained it to me once.

"Aro thinks her talent could be useful. They're going to offer her a place with them. They're going to offer to help her learn to use it."

"What will she say?" I asked. It was an unnecessary question. I already knew she would refuse.

"She will politely decline." Alice grinned again. "This is the first good news—the first break. They're intrigued. They truly don't want to destroy her—'wasteful,' that's the word Aro will use—and that may be enough to force her to get creative. She'll know they don't want to do it, so she'll have to come up with a plan that will leave them with no other choice. The longer she spends on her plans, the better for us."

"So what does that mean for our chances? Are they looking better now?"

The edges of her mouth still curved faintly upward, but I could see the grin leave her eyes.

"We'll have to wait and see," she answered carefully. "It all depends on what she decides to do and how long it takes her to make that decision."

So, no. Apparently our chances hadn't improved.

"I'm sorry, Alice."

"Why?" Her grin slid away.

"This is all my fault. I'm the one who caused this. If I hadn't jumped off that cliff—"

"Don't you start." She sighed. "Edward, trust me. I've seen so many futures that could happen and so many that never will. I watch people's decisions constantly. It's easy to think that we can control everything, but we can't, even when we can see what will happen. Hardly anything ever happens because of just one, single choice being made. Sometimes it's a hundred different little decisions all working together."

"But if I hadn't jumped, she wouldn't be doing this." I shook my head. "If she dies . . . if you die . . . that's on me."

"You could just as easily blame it on Bella. If she hadn't left you last September, we wouldn't be here now, either."

"I know why she left, Alice."

"You're about to say it was to keep you safe."

I nodded.

"That's only partly true, you know," she said carefully.

"What do you mean?"

"Bella leaving wasn't the only way to keep you safe, Edward."

I turned to stare at her, puzzled for a moment before I realized what she meant.

"You saw that, didn't you? Me becoming one of you?"

"It was a possibility at the time. Actually . . ." She hesitated for a moment, then lifted her chin slightly, as if she'd just made some sort of decision. "Honestly, I think it's all gotten beyond ridiculous. I'm debating whether to just change you myself . . . if that's what you want."

I stared at her for a moment. For so many months, this had been the decision I'd been avoiding, but then that option had been taken away entirely. It had been so long since I'd thought about it, about the possibility of forever with Bella, that it seemed strange to find it back on the table again.

But even if I did decide, would Bella accept that decision?

"Did I scare you?" Alice wondered.

"No." I shook my head. "I was just . . . thinking."

I glanced up to see the flight attendant looking in our direction again. I slid down lower in my seat. Following my lead, Alice leaned down beside me.

"It's purely hypothetical at this point," she admitted. "First we have to live through tomorrow."

"Good point."

She watched me for a moment, clearly considering something. "Go back to sleep," she finally said. "I'll wake you up when there's something new."

"Okay." I didn't really think I'd be able to sleep, but Alice had enough to worry about. I settled back in my seat as she pulled her legs up and wrapped her arms around them. She leaned her forehead against her knees and began to rock slowly back and forth.

The next thing I knew, Alice was pulling the shade closed against the faint brightening of the sky outside the window. Apparently, I'd been wrong about being able to sleep. It took only a second for me to register the expression on her face.

"What happened?" I asked.

"They've told her no," she said softly.

It was what we'd been hoping for, but Alice didn't seem very pleased.

"What is she going to do?"

"She hasn't really settled on a plan. She's . . . still considering her options. I think she's trying not to think about how much this will hurt Charlie . . . and the rest of us."

"What kind of options?" I asked. I didn't want to imagine what Bella might do, but if we had any chance of stopping her, I needed to know.

"She considered—very briefly—going hunting."

In the city. Bella was going to go hunting in the city. I shook my head.

"She'd never . . ."

"No," Alice whispered, "she wouldn't. That was only for a second. As soon as it crossed her mind, she dismissed it. She doesn't want to hurt anyone. She's trying to figure out how to reveal what she is without endangering any humans. She doesn't really want there to be any witnesses, just in case the Volturi have to . . . dispose of them. She's hoping the threat of a spectacle will be enough to make them intervene before anyone can see."

"Will we have time to stop her?" As I spoke, I felt the angle of the plane change. We were descending now.

"I'm hoping so—if she sticks to her most recent idea. It's the most likely at the moment."

I took a shaky breath. "What is she planning to do?" I asked.

"Step out onto a balcony and scale a stone wall."

That didn't sound too bad.

"If anyone saw her, wouldn't they just think it was some kind of a stunt?"

"She's going to do it at noon, in a square crowded with people. If anyone looks up, they'll see her in the sun. She's hoping the threat will be enough that the Volturi will stop her before she can do it . . . and without anyone seeing her before they do."

A hazy memory rose to the surface. A meadow and a beautiful girl, a girl whose skin sparkled like diamonds in the sun. No, the Volturi wouldn't take a risk like that, not if they wanted to keep the secret.

"Noon?" My eyes drifted toward the brightening glow that crept around the edges of the window shade.

Alice nodded.

I had just opened my mouth to ask how we could possibly make it in time when the pilot's voice came over the intercom. He announced our imminent landing in French, then in English. The seat belt lights dinged and flashed.

"How fast can we get from Florence to Volterra?" I asked.

"That depends on what you're driving."

. . . . .

Everyone on the crowded airport sidewalk took a quick step back as the bright yellow Porsche screeched to a stop. Well, everyone but me. I barely glanced at the word TURBO emblazoned across the back of the car. At another time, I might have taken a few moments to admire it, but now wasn't that time.

"Hurry!" Alice shouted through the open window, but my hand was already reaching for the door.

"Did anybody see you?" I asked as I threw myself inside. Before I could reach for the seat belt, Alice was already speeding through the heavy airport traffic, squeezing through impossibly narrow spaces. Maybe I should have been worried about her driving, but all I could think was that we needed to be going faster.

"Have a little faith. Besides, the important question is whether I could have stolen a faster car, and I don't think so. I got lucky." As if to prove her point, she pressed her foot down on the accelerator, and the car shot forward.

I stared at the road ahead, not even registering the sights as we sped through the city of Florence. All I could think about was Bella, about the clock that was ticking down to noon. As the Tuscan landscape flew by outside the windows, I did something I hadn't done in quite some time. I prayed.

I wasn't particularly religious. My mother wasn't either, and aside from a Christmas Eve service every few years, I couldn't say when either of us had ever been to church. Still, we needed all the help we could get, and if there was a God in heaven, He might be the only one who could save us now.

"Do you see anything new?" I asked Alice when I'd run out of ways to beg whatever higher power might exist to help us get to Bella in time.

"There's something going on," she answered. "Some kind of festival. The streets are full of people and red flags. What's the date today?"

I took a moment to do the math in my head. "The nineteenth."

Alice frowned. "Well, that's ironic. It's Saint Marcus Day."

"Saint Marcus Day?"

"The city holds a celebration every year. As the legend goes, a Christian missionary, a Father Marcus—Marcus of the Volturi, in fact—drove all the vampires from Volterra fifteen hundred years ago. The story claims he was martyred in Romania, still trying to drive away the vampire scourge. Of course that's nonsense. He's never left the city. But that's where some of the superstitions about things like crosses and garlic come from. Father Marcus used them so successfully. And vampires don't trouble Volterra, so they must work." A cynical smile crossed her lips. "It's become more of a celebration of the city and recognition for the police force—after all, Volterra is an amazingly safe city. The police get the credit."

"So, they're really not going to be happy if she does this today, are they?"

Alice shook her head. "No, they'll act very quickly."

I looked away, trying to judge the position of the sun as it climbed higher in the sky.

"Is she still planning on noon?"

Alice nodded, but she kept her eyes on the road ahead. "Yes, and they're watching her, waiting to see what she'll do."

That complicated matters even further. I glanced toward the speedometer, wondering how fast we were going, but I couldn't tell. The needle was as far over as it would go.

"What do I need to do, Alice?"

"I've been playing it over and over again in my head. There's only one way that this will work. She'll be in a building to the right of the clock tower. You'll have to go inside and up two flights of stairs. She'll be in the first room to your right. You have to get to her before she steps out onto the balcony. And you'll have to call her name. I don't know why, but that's what will make her pause just long enough for you to get to her. If you aren't calling her name, this won't work."

Alice pulled into the oncoming traffic lane to pass a small red car. We were going so fast that it seemed to be moving backward as it disappeared behind us.

"I'll follow you as soon as I can, but I'll have to hide in the shadows." She blinked. She must have just seen something else. "I'm going to get you as close as possible, and then you're going to run in the direction I point you."

I nodded, my eyes trying to ignore the trees that flew by on either side of the road. Not even our speed prevented me from noticing that their shadows were growing dangerously short. We were running out of time.

"There," Alice said, pointing toward a walled city sitting at the top of the closest hill. "Volterra."