Dear Reader

I come to you with a gift. The gift of a long chapter. yes

I was actually debating cutting the chapter in two, but then decided you have been waiting for a good ten days for me to finally give you what you've all been waiting for. I won't say more and will let you enjoy.

Chapter 9: Whispers in the Night.

A week had passed since Bella had sent the letter, and focusing had been harder every day. She wondered if she should expect a letter, a phone call or a travelling bat. How did the Kings of the Underworld communicate?

The dreams had given her more details, as if her revelation has uncovered a veil and that now new light was available to her. She found that hours of meditation in the early morning with her mother was just as efficient as dreams to focus on those memories, and much safer, as the abyssal forest rarely came to visit whenever she concentrated her mind on the bright memories of Volterra. She kept track of every piece of information, however trivial. It was a daily exercise she wrote in her notebook in Italian, which was now completely familiar to her... Though she wasn't as certain when it came to the grammar or spelling. It was like she was writing the way a child would, she knew the words, but not how to write them. In a way, Italian seemed to her like a long-lost mother tongue she was starting to remember.

She could remember so many things now, but all those memories filled her with more questions than answers. Her earliest memory traced back to when she was maybe three or four years old, but even at that time, everyone looked at her as if she was a member of their strange family, and her last memory was somewhere when she was six or seven, she couldn't really tell. She could see all those memories with the nostalgic haze of an early childhood you barely remember. Months of time would disappear in fog, while some specific moments shone bright and vivid, and colored by intense emotions.

She would play with aunt Dolores, and she would give her private lesson to teach her to read and write. They had their own room and bathroom, like a small apartment with a tall window with a view of the old medieval city. She remembered the enormous four posters bed with thick red velvet curtains that made her feel like a princess, and both her and Aunt Dolores would sleep in it. In her memories, aunt Dolores was warm, with beautiful grey eyes and black hair. Definitely human.

She remembered a young girl who looked no older than twelve, whose bright red eyes contrasted with her aunt's deep grey. Vampire, then. Her name was Jane, and she was one of her favorite babysitters. Her twin brother, Alec, was never really far.

When she concentrated on Jane and Alec, she remembered music, and dancing. Jumping around in a dark room with no windows, with mufflers on her ears as they played a really loud, intense music that would make her laugh. Alec playing the bass, Jane playing the guitar and singing - or screaming, depending on the song - and another man on the drums…. she couldn't remember his name or face somehow. She remembered how exhilarating it felt to scream her hearts content in that room, imitating Jane, and it would make her laugh a crystalline laugh. She remembered adulating her, like a cool older sister.

Other memories filled her. Dancing in a traditional music room, bright with sunshine as Jane and Alec would make her swirl to the music of a grand piano. A young man with dark curls would play, completely absorbed in the music, not paying attention to them. Marcus. Somehow, she remembered his name, but his presence was filled with a pinch of tension, as if she was impressed by him. She could see why she drew him with such a sad look on his face. Now that she gazed down at her memories with her young adult eyes, she could see the agony plain on his expression as he played. It was obvious...and contagious. She couldn't focus on him for too long before her own empty chest would scream its cold hunger again, and she had to switch her focus to another subject.

She had memories of Corin, a round and warm looking woman, who was always down in the kitchens with her, baking her cookies. "I missed having someone to bake for" she would say. Hers were the most delicious pastries she's ever eaten.

"Don't overfeed her" A sweet voice would say with a hint of warning. Corin would instantly look down and say "Of course master. I would never jeopardize her health."

Caius memories where those that filled her with the most warmth and love. Whenever her mind would recollect a moment with him, her heart would leap in her chest, and tighten with nostalgia. She remembered he had this silver armoire ring with a V on it, decorated with roses and thorns. She loved that ring. She remembered that she would cherish every moment with him with an almost clingy eagerness. She would raise her arms and he would pick her up instantly, and they would walk around in the corridors. She would ask about a painting, and he would give her details and stories that came with it. They would lie in the grass during the day, and she would gaze at his glowing skin with awe. He would take her to his workshop and teach her to paint. She would splash paint on the walls, and he would just laugh as if it was the most brilliant thing he'd seen in years.

She had memories that didn't make much sense. A time when Dolores wasn't with her, when she would spend all of her time with Caius. He would watch her eat Corin's delicious cooking in the kitchen. "You are not hungry?" she would ask, and he would give her a mysterious smile "I've already eaten". So many times, he just carried her when she was half asleep and she would wake up in her bed the next morning. Other times he would tuck her in and lie next to her, telling her stories. Her favorite stories where those of the old Gods of Greece. The story of Hades and Persephone, the goddess of spring who married the king of the underworld, and the story of Eros and Psyche, the god who fell in love with the maiden he was sent to curse. Sometimes, when the weather was warm enough, he would take her to the countryside at night, away from the city light, and they would lay in the fields. There he would show her the constellations, and the stories of the Gods they represented. As beautiful as those memories were, she couldn't understand how aunt Dolores would leave her alone like that, and yet, in her memories it seemed like months went by without seeing her, and she would spend most of her time with Caius, Jane, Alec and Corin.

She had other memories, she could feel them below the surface, slightly trembling and agitating the wave of her consciousness, but somehow a strong hand would hold them under. A rush of fear and a desire to run would take hold of her, and Edwards' voice would scream "Be Careful Bella!" with the loudest intent that would take her right out of her meditation. Even her own self fought against them, as if she didn't even want to think about them. Every time she tried to make a conscious effort to remember, it was as if her mind would suddenly find something much more interesting to think about. She would suddenly want to draw, or sleep, or cook.

Not that she was eating much. But she would cook, and bake, and leave everything for Phil and Renée. Phil would munch on anything she'd make, but Renée always gave her twenty questions about what kind of milk she used, and if there was butter or eggs or how dark those chocolate chips were or if she really needed to add that much sugar. But in the end, everything would disappear from the kitchen table, and no one noticed the hadn't even touch it.

On their second session, Dr Susan O'Neil congratulated her on her endeavor to recall memories and on her new habit of meditation. Of course, she remained as vague as possible, saying that she was recovering some memories from a family summer house in Italy and the people she met there. She mentioned the darker memories that she couldn't access, and apparently it was normal and for the moment it would be best not to force it. For now, she needed to focus on how her memories made her feel, and keep a journal if possible. "Nothing is trivial" she said.

She then enquired on her eating habits, and Bella tried her best to deflect her concerned questions, but by the end of it she had to admit to a less than healthy habit.

"It's not that I don't want to eat." Bella said. "It's just...my stomach hurts...like. All the time."

Susan reassured her that it wasn't uncommon for breakups to cause physical pain as much as emotional one. But after four months of malnourishment, she faced several dreadful consequences. One being to simply not have the physical energy to recover, and the other to develop a long-lasting eating disorder she would have to fight for years. Apparently, it wasn't too late for her to change her path, and she gave her some basic recommendation to recover some of her energy, little by little. And for the first time after months of hearing "Just Eat Something", she actually listened. She's actually gone to the store, bought the supplements and the water bottle she was to carry around every day. She printed and pinned above her desk the menu of what she was going to eat for the week, with boxes to check. Part of her knew that her new memories of Volterra played a part in that change. When she had been just waiting, for months, now she actually wanted...something. She didn't know what, yet. But she wanted something. And she wanted the strength to accomplish it. It was as if something was driving her, literally moving her forward. Helping her wake up in the morning, not just with a dead autopilot, but with an actual desire to...to what?

To uncover. Unearth. Exhume.

Her memories?

Herself

For the first time in four months, she felt alive.

So that night, after she gazed one last time at the weekly plan pinned above her desk, which also included the date of when she was expected to go back to her local high-school -the following Monday - she didn't feel as much dread surround her as she went to sleep. She welcomed the dark, hoping to sleep through the night.

Sleep had not entirely taken over her that her phone vibrated on her desk. When she wondered who could possibly be calling her at ...11pm, her thoughts came right to him, and her heart leapt and carried her to her phone as if she was floating. She put it to her ear and, clearing her throat once, she breathed: "Hello?"

No answer. There was a loud - thump - and then the line cut.

Bella sat on the mattress, staring at the phone, and tried to call the number again, but a female android voice informed her that the number was no longer available. She stayed there for a few minutes, frozen in place with the phone in her hand, confused and completely awake, until the phone vibrated again in her palm.

"Hello?" She said softly, almost whispering.

On the other hand, a voice as sweet as honey made her heart drop in her stomach.

"Hello Piccola."

She remained silent for a moment, her gut clenching tightly as she recognized the soft voice that had travelled an ocean to greet her. "Caius." She breathed. She realized she had not said his name out loud once, in her week of recollection, and only heard it in her memories. Hearing his voice, speaking his name, knowing they were both actually talking, connected by this invisible communication line...she only realized then that she had not entirely believed that her memories had been anything more than fantasies and dreams. But he had called her Piccola, and she had said his name, and now he was answering:

"Yes, Bella. It is I."

The air was punched out of her lungs by the confirmation.

"You called." she gasped.

"You gave me your number." he answered, a smile in his voice. "Though I must tell you, the Kings of the Underworld rarely make phone calls."

She repressed an embarrassed moan as she remembered her letter, written before most of her memories could resurface. But she stilled herself and said "What do the Kings do then, instead of calling?"

"We usually call on people. In person."

She could hear a scratching sound deeper in his voice, constant tiny vibrato that colored his tone. Now that she really thought about it, he sounded almost...British.

"I don't recall you ever paid me a visit. But then again, I figure Phoenix is a bit sunny for you." Though in that regard it holds nothing on Tuscany she almost added.

There was a pause on the other end, followed by:

"So, you know." The voice suddenly lost its playful sheen. She knew what he meant.

"I do." she breathed.

"How?"

"I…" the void in her chest threatened to scream "Last year I moved to live at my father's place. In Forks?" No reaction, he was still waiting. "I met other... people, there. the Cullen's."

"Oh. I see."

Suddenly she remembered something. Something Edward had told her, about the rules.

"They did not break the rules. They didn't reveal anything to me, I'm the one who snooped."

He chuckled, a sound that stilled her completely.

"Why am I not surprised." He spoke. Bella smiled despite herself. "So, you know about the rules?"

"Some of them. Carlisle, he told me about...about you."

Royalty, ruthless, powerful. Sophisticated and cruel. Somehow this went against everything she remembered. But she did remember the bright red eyes...and knew what they meant.

"And that is how you started to remember?"

"No... I started to remember recently." She somehow knew that it would be difficult to tell him the whole story.

"And what did Carlisle say, when you told him?"

Bella had to gather her thought and calm her breathing before answering.

"I didn't tell him. We are not... in contact anymore. I moved back with my mother, in Jacksonville."

"Yes...the address you gave said as much. There seems to be a story there, bambina."

Bambina. Child. Piccola. All those endearment titles that echoed in her heart with a warm light. She hunched her head on her hand "Yes." she said, and her voice was shaking.

Another silence.

"You're coming to Volterra, Child." His voice was hard as stone. It wasn't a request.

She felt panic taking over as she stood and went to face the window. "Caius, I can't."

His voice shook a little with a sort of hesitation "Do you...wish...to stay away from the fortress? From us?"

She should, Bella thought. In normal circumstances, with what she knew of the Volturi. But her answer was steeled in certainty when she said "No, I don't wish that."

She could swear she heard him sigh on the other end "Then why?" he asked.

"Caius, I still have to graduate, and I just came back to my mother's house. She would worry."

He scoffed "No she wouldn't worry. She didn't worry in the first place when she let you go alone to Italy with Dolores all those years so that she could go back to University, remember?"

Bella had to think for a moment. Did she remember that? It is true that she wondered why her mother wasn't with her in all those memories. Somehow the only memories that she had of her mother during that time period were...summertime. Vacations.

"I didn't…" she trailed off. "I didn't realize. I'm still trying to remember."

"Didn't everything come back at once?" He asked with a hint of concern in his voice.

"No. I'm still trying to put all the pieces together…Caius...It's strange. Carlisle told me one thing, and I remember another...Somehow it doesn't make any sense"

She hadn't realize how confused she had been, how much she needed to make sense of those paradoxes. She leaned her forehead on the cold window and tried to breathe evenly. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 in, 10 out...

"Then do you remember…"

She waited for him to finish his sentence.

"...what do you remember?" his voice was hoarse, all honey dried up.

Bella sighed and looked deep into the distance. The house was facing the ocean, shining under the moonlight.

"I remember...Jane and Alec, how they would make me dance. Marcus playing the piano. Corin baking cookies. Dolores teaching me how to read. You...I remember you, mostly. The Garden. The painting lessons. The stories under the stars."

"And how do you feel?" his voice was so chocked up it was difficult to make up the words, but she felt them, swelling in her chest, and she realized she was crying when she answered:

"I feel...I want to come back. I-I want to come home, Caius."

Because it was home, she realized. Not Phoenix, not Forks, not Jacksonville. Those places were not her home. No one cared for her there, taught her, fed her, held her...Home was Volterra. It had always been Volterra. Her knees gave way and she claps a hand on her mouth as the sobs kept coming is shaking waves, choking her.

"But I can't just leave, there are...things. I need to... continue my education. There are so many things...I don't know…"

"Now, Child, listen." His voice compelled her, and her full attention was on him "You don't have to worry about that. I will take care of it. You will continue your education here. Your parents will not have to worry. Everything you need, you will have it, and more. Just wait. Can you do that?"

She nodded frantically, and remembered he couldn't see her "Y-yes."

"And, Bella." he said, and the honey was back in his voice, softer and so sweet you could hardly hear the scraping sound in his accent. "I've missed you."

xXx

Dear reader.

You can scream now.

See you tomorrow