-MAISIE-


The first thing I learned about the Volturi was that they were dramatic, as I felt was only befitting of ancient vampire rulers. 'Dress appropriately', my summons had said. Jasper had rolled his eyes at that but hadn't initially elaborated. He didn't need to. The day after the summons came in the mail, a package arrived.

It was wrapped in tan butcher paper and tied with twine, not the typical cardboard box or plastic bag that usually served as shipping fare. I pondered vaguely how much money the Volturi had to be paying shipping and customs fees to mail from Italy to Alaska, but I was more interested in the contents of the butcher paper.

I bit through the twine, unfurling the paper as I carried the package into the living room. Soft white fabric greeted me on the inside. "What is this?"

Unfurled, the masses of white fabric revealed themselves to be monochromatic outfits. A plain dress, a button-down shirt, pants. All white.

"Trial clothes," Jasper answered without looking up from his writings. Adding carefully recalled details to that initial timeline we had made. "Innocent until proven guilty."

"…Oh. And, um, how do you know that for sure?"

Now he lifted his head, meeting my eye with a measured gaze. "The last time we paid a visit to the Volturi, we bore witness to a trial. The accused wear their white clothes to signify the benefit of the doubt the Volturi graciously extend before evidence is provided. If that evidence should prove sufficiently damning, the white clothing is ceremoniously covered by a red robe, marking the accused with conviction and death. Only the Volturi and their guards may wear shades of gray and black in their own robes."

The twist of his mouth was almost wry. Almost. "On St. Marcus' Day, the whole city of Volterra wears red robes to celebrate St. Marcus driving all the vampires out of the city. An ancient holiday…for humans and the Volturi alike. It's a feast day all around."

Jasper didn't need to say more than that for me to understand that the Volturi feasted on the humans celebrating the expulsion of vampires. How cruelly ironic.

"Won't we be kind of suspicious wearing all-white clothing through the city?"

"We won't travel straight through Volterra. We'll travel through the catacombs."

Catacombs? I knew that the underground burial sites existed to this day beneath many European countries. It had never occurred to me until just then, though, that all the cases of explorers never returning from catacombs could have a vampiric explanation.

Jasper caught on to the astonishment in my expression. "There's no hunting allowed in Volterra, save for St. Marcus' Day, and even then, only foreigners. Rules for the catacombs are much the same. The Volturi keep very accurate accounts of the human residents of Volterra. They are never harmed. Honestly, Volterra is the safest town on this Earth—at least in terms of vampire attacks."

It was the most I had learned about the Volturi so far, an in such a small breadth of time. I nodded hollowly at Jasper, running the soft fabric of the dress between my fingers. The more he had spoken, the heavier the pit in my stomach grew. I raised my hand, waving away whatever words were going to come out of Jasper's mouth next. "I better go pack our…trial clothes, before we forget."

In addition to the clothing, we also received train ticket vouchers for the Pisa Centrale railway station and reservation documents for the Hotel Molina D'Era in Volterra itself. The Volturi, it was becoming increasingly clear, loved their control.


I didn't get to see Gunner or Leah before we left. There was only a phone call, though me and Gunner sat silently on opposite sides of the line for most of the call. We listened to each other breathe after our greetings, both of us at a loss for what to say in this case.

"Maisie," Gunner finally said, after a considerable stretch of silence. "Try really hard not to do anything stupid, okay?"

A nearly hysterical laugh slipped through my lips. "I do kinda have a tendency to make stupid choices, huh?"

My brother's snort, incredulous that I wouldn't acknowledge my full idiocy in the past, I'm sure. "I could think of a few examples."

"At least I know better than to run from danger in a straight line." When Maria had made a break for him that night in our yard, Gunner's escape path rain arrow straight.

"Serpentine. That's easy to remember. Will it be so easy for you to remember to keep your mouth shut?"

But our jests soon faltered and we lapsed back into that companionable quiet, our breathe the only sound. I liked to think that even though we weren't saying anything, Gunner could feel the way my heart twisted in my chest at the thought of leaving him forever. While I listened to his breathing, I looked down at my arm, where my half of our matching tattoos would mark me forever. I traced the moon with my finger.

"Maisie?" Gunner said again, this time his voice lifting with question and uncertainty. It was the same voice he used to use when we were five and four, when he was convinced there were ghosts in his bedroom. The voice he used, all those years ago, to ask me to make pillow and blanket piles on the floor of my own bedroom so we could sleep in that nest of bedding.

"Yeah, Gun?"

Now his voice was thick, no longer the little boy. "You know I love you?"

My own throat tightened at his words, so that I had to work to force the words up and out of my mouth.

"I know, Gun. I love you, too."


Seeing Jasper's side of our family was a totally different affair. Carlisle and Esme came to Alaska for the weekend, under the pretense of house sitting for us and visiting Edward and Jasmine while we were gone. Alice made her way back from her travels—through the Asian continent, this semester—and Rosalie and Emmett came from New York, too.

Having all of them there the night before our plane ride made it just a tiny bit easier. Rosalie sat on the couch, with me on the floor bracketed by her legs, practiced fingers creating intricate braids in my hair. She had done the same after the fight with Maria, and I wondered vaguely if the braiding was a comfort thing her human mother used to do for her.

Thinking about Rosalie's mother made me think of my own, though. Which led me to Dad, which led to Ava…I had to push those thoughts aside before they could tear me at my seams. Instead, I made myself focus on Alice and Edward, enthralled in their game of poker. Emmett had taken bets on Edward, while Jasper had gone with Alice.

We all liked to watch Edward and Alice play games, because only they knew the extent of the stakes. Edward could see Alice's hand through her mind, of course, and Alice could see Edward's next moves through her visions—which Edward could also see. The majority of their matches took place in hypotheticals, with so little talking and movement that we all sat in rapt silence for any hint of an outcome.

This outcome came in the form of Edward blowing his breath and letting the cards flutter from his fingertips across Alice's face. She smiled brightly, batting the wayward cards and laying down her own winning hand. Emmett gave a dramatic groan, letting his whole weight slip from his chair to land heavily on the floor.

That heavy thump of Emmett's weight hitting the floor startled me, making me jump and my eyelids shoot open. I hadn't realized until that moment that I was starting to drift off. Rosalie's fingers stilled in my hair, a soothing, quiet shhh escaping her lips.

"Stop that," Jasper chided him, holding out his hand for the money Emmett now owed him. "It's a long way from your heart, brother."

There was a smile on his face, bless him. It had been so long since I had seen a genuine smile on Jasper's face. Jasper picked up the abandoned cards, shuffling them in a blur between his big hands.

"C'mon, Jasmine, let's give Emmett another round to bet on. Maybe this time he'll have a chance in hell of winning."

Our evening past deceptively cozy. I was incredibly sleepy, obviously, between the roaring fire that Carlisle tended in our fireplace and Rosalie's fingers in my hair. Anyone on the outside looking in would have simply seen a family gathering. My vision kept blurring, my head growing heavy before it would snap back up. And each time, Rosalie shushed me, her voice lilting and soothing as the slow, rhythmic work of her fingers in my hair.

Under the jovial appearance was a deep, pulling strain that I was certain we all felt, though we all ignored it, too.

We were the picture of a perfectly happy family until my head fell heavy against Rosalie's knee, no longer able to fight off the sleep trying to pull me under. Being the only member of the family that still needed sleep definitely had its benefits. I was only vaguely aware of the goodbyes going around, as I had largely lost my battle with my eyelids. Jasper hauled me from the floor to the couch, I know that much, and there were hugs and Esme pushed my bangs aside to kiss me on the forehead, and some snippets of conversation.

"…she'll be able to behave herself," Rosalie.

"…perfectly confident…she'll charm Aro, at least." Alice.

"Be safe, honey." Esme.

"…get in a fight without me and Eddy.." Emmett.

No one else tried to wake me up either, though. I did catch Jasper saying it was the first time I had fallen asleep on my own in weeks, which was true. Having a mood-altering boyfriend had come in handy with my latest bout of insomnia.

If I was good at nothing else, I was extraordinary at avoiding things I didn't want to face, and I didn't try whatsoever to keep myself awake. Whatever parting words were said to me were wasted, because I wasn't coherent enough to retain them. Alas, I was only vaguely aware at best, and then Jasper carried me upstairs to bed.


Travelling to Italy was spent mostly in silence. We lucked out in having a direct flight from Anchorage, but the downside of that was that the flight was just over twenty-three hours long. I napped. Jasper pretended to. We spent a few of those hours staring at our little screens, not taking in an ounce of the movie playing.

After those twenty-three some-odd hours, we landed at the Galileo Galilei international airport in Pisa, Tuscany. From the airport, we walked to the Pisa Centrale Station. We were wearing our travelling clothes, which for Jasper had included jeans and a sweater, covering as much of his skin as possible as a precaution. The sun had set far enough that Jasper was in no danger. The last rays of the day were too weak to fracture and shine against his skin, instead just bathing him in golden tones.

In one hand, Jasper easily lifted our singular, shared suitcase. He wrapped his free arm around my shoulders, pulling me close into him. It was all too easy, after three years together, to fall into the rhythm of his steps as we walked. I thread my fingers through his where his hand rested over my shoulder.

We walked through the gathering night. Stretching my legs felt good after sitting on the plane for nearly an entire day. It was balmy outside, but I shivered despite the warmth. I didn't mind at all walking cuddled up with Jasper. Despite the falling dark, I tried to look around as we walked, trying to make out the details of the old buildings around us. Before travelling to meet the Volturi, my only concept of Italy came from The Lizzie McGuire movie.

It was a good distraction, keeping my mind off the fact that the train—once we reached it—would take us straight to the belly of the beast. A lot of the buildings were made up of old bricks, some of them whitewashed. Others were painted shades of blue or yellow or orange, their colors still discernable for me despite the gray tone night brings with it.

I was just deciding that I liked how many windows there were in these buildings when I felt a tug on my shoulders.

"Maisie," Jasper murmured, something close to amusement coloring his voice. "Where are you going, mi amor?"

I blinked up at him, realizing I would have continued going straight on my little sightseeing adventure. But to get to the train station, we needed to turn to the left, which I would have missed entirely. I laughed on reflex, and we both had the good grace to ignore the hysterical edge to it. Jasper led me in the correct direction, only disentangling from me long enough to fish our tickets from his pocket.

Our train ride was another two hours of travel. Our car in particular was nearly empty, which was surprising for a Friday night. I was thankful for it regardless, laying my head on Jasper's shoulder much the way I had on the plane.

"You should sleep," he breathed against my hair. "We leave just before dawn."

Ever the vampire overlord gentlemen, the lapse over Friday night had been allowed to give me opportunity to rest before facing my judgment. I had been able to snooze on the plane, but now that we were here on Italian soil, I felt far too on edge to even entertain the thought.

"No," I argued. "You don't get to sleep."

A bark of a laugh. "That's irrelevant."

I rolled my eyes, though he couldn't see. From the side of my eye, I watched Italy blur by us. The anxiety was rising in me like a cresting wave. I clung to Jasper's arm, but I didn't realize my fingers were digging into his skin until he gave a sharp intake of breath. His own fingers slid under mine, loosening the grip. He raised my hand to his lips, gently kissing the fingers that had just hurt him.

"Oh my God," I choked out. "I'm so sorry."

Jasper's forearm was still marred by the imprints of my fingers, though his skin slowly righted and healed itself. I had made Jasper promise not to alter my moods while we were in Italy, no matter how bad it got. I would ride any and all fear and pain out with him, refusing to stick him with the brunt of it while he soothed me.

I forced myself to take a deep, slow breath to calm myself down.

"I'm sorry," I repeated. To my surprise, Jasper smiled at me. My favorite smile. Not the smirk or small grin that usually graced his lips, but the usually hard-won smile that stretched wide and seemed to diffuse his whole face with sunshine.

"Looks like someone doesn't know her own strength." Despite his smile, I could see the cold edge in his golden eyes. The one that always foretold some sort of scheming, plotting, or analysis on Jasper's part. When he got that look in his eyes, Emmett would call him 'Major Whitlock', a callback to Jasper's days in the Confederate army during his human life.

I narrowed my own eyes at him, a warning. Cut that out. I had precious little information about the Volturi, but it had been reiterated to me time and again that Aro would be able to view all thoughts and memories either of us had ever had during the trial. The last thing we needed was for Major Whitlock here to be getting any bright ideas that could count against us in just a handful of hours.

Jasper raised his eyebrows in response, affecting a false innocence over his features. I shook my head at him, earning one of his usual smirky-smiles before laying my head back on his shoulder. Despite the soothing motion of the train, I refused to let my eyelids droop. If these were my final hours on earth, with Jasper, I wasn't going to waste a second of it asleep.


When we got off the train at the station in Volterra, there was a man waiting for us. I would have pegged him for somewhere between his mid-twenties and early-thirties, shorter than Jasper and barrel-chested. He peeled himself away from the other people milling around, catching Jasper's attention immediately.

His red eyes were apparent as soon as the man lifted his head to meet our gaze. He gestured with his head for us to follow him outside. I glanced at Jasper once the man's back was turned, but he only nodded to me. We were led to a nondescript dark car parked on the street outside the station.

We hesitated outside the car for only a moment. Leaving the engine idling as he sat in the driver's seat, it was obvious we were expected to get in. I gave Jasper another incredulous look, but, ever the gentleman, he merely opened the car door for me. The interior was expensive despite the plain exterior; I immediately sunk into plush leather seats as Jasper slid in beside me. The man drove us to Hotel Molino D'Era in silence, not once asking our names nor offering his own. It was only when Jasper was proffering his hand to guide me from the car that he spoke.

"I'm sure you're aware Caius detests tardiness."

His voice, gravelly and deep, startled me so that I jumped. Jasper's fingers curled around mine, giving me a reassuring squeeze. "Of course."

With a final nod, the man pulled the car away from us, leaving us to walk into the accommodations the Volturi had made for us. A plaque beside the door of Hotel Molino D'Era boasted that the establishment had been family-owned for more than a century.

"Who was that?" I whispered to Jasper as we walked through the front door of the hotel.

"A member of the outer guard, likely. The outer guard is…transient. I didn't recognize him."

The lobby met us with a cool gush of air conditioning, chilling the sheen of sweat on my skin. I hadn't realized until that moment how nervous I had been. Jasper kept his solid hold on my hand as we moved forward to the front desk. A woman with thick auburn hair smiled at us from behind the desk, but I was unnerved by her eyes. They were an unnatural shade of green, looking artificial in the contrast against the blush she wore on her cheeks.

"Our honored guests have arrived!" She enthused in lightly accented English, thrusting her hand forward. "I'm Caterina."

When I took her hand in mine, the oddity of Caterina's eyes clicked into place. Her skin was cool and solid beneath mine, smooth as silk and very, very vampiric. The green of her eyes were contacts, surely, to mask the red underneath.

"Maisie." My name slipped out between my lips on reflex, propriety preserving my politeness while my mind spiraled. Jasper had explained that Volterra was a hub of activity for vampires, but was it possible that so many of them were in public and the humans still so unawares?

Caterina continued to smile, personally escorting us to a ground-floor room with a glass door that led onto a private patio. Though it was nighttime, Caterina made a point of extending the tour beyond the quaint room—containing a huge four-poster bed that looked ancient despite it's elegance, clashing with the flat screen TV on the wall—to a garden out back of the hotel.

"This statue is a condensed replica of a Michelangelo piece," I guess she thought we were especially stupid or uncultured, because though the garden was unlit in the nighttime, it was obvious the sculpture was Michelangelo's David. "He guards the catacomb interest, but worry not, he's rather easy to move. I'll be along before sunrise, of course, to move him back before the guests wake and the day staff arrive at Hotel Molino D'Era."

Caterina left us then, in the garden. The replication of David looked towered over me, though she had described it as 'condensed'. I titled my head back to look at the way the moon glinted off David's marble features as a wave of dread washed over me.

"Jasper?" I wasn't entirely sure what I was seeking, just then. I moved toward him, until my back was flush to his chest, his arm wrapping around me.

"I told you, mi amor, the Volturi own this city." He kissed the top of my head, holding me in the moonlight. "We are thoroughly entrenched in their territory."

I took a shaky breath and nodded, my head bouncing against his chest with the movement. "I can see that, now."

Again, Jasper attempted to convince me to get some sleep, but I refused. It was after midnight by this point, but I didn't have time to waste with sleeping. Instead, I went in the bathroom and splashed cold water on my face until I no longer felt like sobbing. I took a deep breath and raised my eyes to the mirror, evaluating myself. Memorizing my face as it was.

Bangs no longer too long and overgrown—thanks to Alice, who had insisted on cutting them a few days ago. Dark blue eyes. Would my eyes look that unnatural with contacts layered over them if I leave this place a vampire? If I leave this place at all.

Maria's scars, one on my cheek and one on my lip. Thin, silvery marks, hardly noticeable if you weren't looking for them. My short, slightly upturned nose, the one I had inherited from Mom. The same that centered both Gunner and Ava's faces as well, that feature marking us physically as siblings. This would be the face I showed to the Volturi in just a handful of hours.

I had worn the last, simple French braid Rosalie had plaited my hair into for traveling. It hung heavy and solid along my back. I grabbed the tail end of the braid, unwinding the hair tie and working my fingers through the strands to free them. The braid left my hair gently waved as it floated around my shoulders.

Carlisle had suggested I remove my jewelry before appearing before the Volturi. The more unassuming you appear, the better. I started pulling out my earrings from my multiple piercings. They clinked against the marble countertop that housed the sink. I was reluctant to take off the promise ring and bracelet Jasper had given me what felt like a lifetime ago, but Carlisle had been adamant, so I added them to the pile of jewelry.

Perhaps Caterina would enjoy them if I never returned.

Next, I took off my own travel clothes, which consisted of leggings and one of Jasper's hoodies. I replaced this with the dress that had been mailed to us. It was white as freshly fallen snow, made of an eyelet cotton. Though it was knee length, the dress left me feeling exposed. The cotton was airy, the straps thin and delicate, with a low dip that left much of my back uncovered. No shoes had been sent.

This was not an oversight, Carlisle assured us. We were not expected to wear shoes to the trial. Looking in the full-length mirror on the back of the bathroom door, I looked like I was going to a garden party. If you ignored the buggy quality that my eyes had taken on as my anxiety grew, or the grimace my mouth seemed to be set in.

Jasper looked likewise airy and springy in his white button-down shirt and bleached linen pants. He had left the first three buttons undone and rolled up his sleeves. It was not at all lost on me that this styling of his clothes left a good bulk of his scars exposed. Still, I was struck by his handsomeness and the way his golden features were complimented by the pale color palette.

He reached for me when I left the bathroom, taking me and folding me into his embrace. We stood there holding each other. Whole lifetimes could have passed with my head on his chest, Jasper soothingly running his hand over my hair. Eventually, he pulled away just enough to cup my face in his palm, bringing his mouth to mine.

The kiss was pressing and desperate. I gripped Jasper's shirt in my hands, trying to pull him closer to me. He responded likewise, a hand splayed across my bared back to draw me nearer. Our attempts to consume each other in that kiss was thwarted by Jasper's ever rational mind. He pulled away from me again, his breath heavy when it washed across my face.

"We had best be going," he said reluctantly. "It's still several miles worth of walking through the catacombs."

The grass was lush under my bare feet as Jasper led me through the garden. Caterina was right, of course; Jasper had no problem moving the replica statue. Just beneath the base was a gaping hole in the ground covered by a rusted metal grate that groaned as Jasper opened it.

"Ladies first?" I asked, trying to make a joke, but my voice shook too much. Jasper shook his head before releasing my hand and dropping into the hole feet first.

"I'll catch you," he said from the darkness. Taking a steadying breath, I let myself fall through the hole the same way Jasper had. The descent made my stomach flip, ending in a jarring halt when I slammed into Jasper's waiting arms. He righted me on my feet, taking me again by the hand.

I could see only a few feet in front of us. Even with my enhanced sight, the darkness of the catacombs was too absolute to discern anything. I would be moving blind, with only Jasper to lead me.

"Right on time," a voice came from deeper in the shadows. This voice did not belong to the unnamed man who drove us to the hotel, nor to Caterina. Actually, it sounded like a young voice… a little girl. "My masters will be so pleased."

"Hello, Jane." Jasper greeted into the dark. I recognized the tone of voice: placating, dripping with his honeyed accent. It was the tone he used on most humans. "It's nice to see you again."

If this Jane had any nonverbal reaction to his greeting, I couldn't see it. I did, however, hear a swish of fabric and soft footsteps on the hardpacked earthen floor of the catacomb. "Follow me."

And so we did. We followed this Jane through the dark, cool catacombs while I tried to puzzle out the vampire we were following. She sounded like a child, yet was able to effect such monotonous boredom in her voice that her tone was for all the world like a forty-year-old socialite.

Jane didn't speak to us as she led us. More than once, I tripped over what I hoped desperately were rocks, though I had a sneaking suspicion the hard masses were something else entirely. Each time I tripped, Jasper gripped my hand tighter to keep me from falling.

I wasn't entirely certain, but I thought I heard Jane scuff each time, too. The dark was so absolute for me that my senses were nearly in overdrive trying to compensate. There was a dull roaring in my ears as they strained to catch anything. The musky, earthy scent of the catacombs walls was heavy in my nostrils, so much so that I could nearly taste it. My skin felt electrified, sparking each time my dress brushed against my legs or my feet encountered something other than the cold, soft dirt.

Jasper said we would have miles to walk, and I don't doubt that we did, but the darkness had robbed me of sense of time. It felt like only minutes had passed when we came to a stop. There was another metallic groan, another opening of a grate, it seemed. Jane had led us to another opening in the catacombs, yet there was no increase in light. Jasper began to unwind his fingers to mine, but I panicked and clung to him.

"Maisie," he soothed. "Let go. Reach up, and I'll pull you to me."

I did as he asked, though my heart felt like it was in my throat to have him leave me. Sure enough, though, I felt Jasper's hands close over my wrists and my feet lift from the ground.

There had been no change in the light though Jane had opened the above-ground passage because it was still night outside. We were in an alleyway, it seemed. I could see better here, once my sight adjusted, by the pale light of the moon and stars.

Here I got my first look at Jane. She was just as tiny as Alice, if not a smidge smaller, swathed in a dark cloak that covered her from chin to ground. The face above the cloak was young and devastatingly beautiful, despite her scowling full lips. Her wide eyes gleamed a dull red in the moonlight, beneath hair that was no longer than Jasper's. it was impossible to determine the color, silvered as it was by what light the moon and stars provided.

She waited impatiently, pursing her lips, while I adjusted to being above ground again. I wasn't blind to the way her eyes roamed over me, assessing me.

"You sure she's human? She hardly smells it."

"Human enough," I retorted instantly, making the full lips shift from a scowl to a smirk.

"We're early. You took the travel through the catacombs better than expected. Didn't even lose composure when you tripped over bones."

I felt myself pale at her words, this confirmation of what I had suspected beneath the earth. My reaction brought a close-lipped smile to her face next before she tossed her head. "This way. Nothing makes Caius happier than eagerness, though Aro may be a bit upset we've come so soon."

For the first time I looked at what was around us. This alley was claustrophobically narrow, lined on either side by worn rock walls that seemed to have seen better days despite their whitewashed cleanliness. Jane pulled a long metal key, ancient-looking, from the sleeve of her cloak. I could hear the heavy click of the lock as she opened a solid wooden door, holding it open for us to pass through.

"Welcome to the heart of Volterra."


A/N: Thank you all so much for the patience as I update this irregularly all the time! I don't think I could ever commit to an actual posting schedule. Bless all of you for your patience.

This part of the story has been slow coming because I am a stickler for details. A lot of research into Italy and the Volturi has been going on. I hope y'all are enjoying it! And I hope y'all are ready for what is to come!