After Midnight
Chapter Seven
Carlisle Cullen rushed into the large suite in the Days Sun Hotel in Atlanta, Georgia. "Alice? What's the emergency?"
Carlisle didn't look a day older than twenty-three. He had light blond hair and soft honey colored eyes that were narrowed with worry and his pale face was, like his children's and wife's—there was no other word for it—beautiful. He had just returned from a hunting slash business trip, taking care of a few loose ends in South America because of Edward and Bella's hasty departure and doing a bit of hunting on the side.
Alice sighed, her golden eyes a bit frantic with worry. Quickly, she told her adopted father what she had seen, and with every word, Carlisle's face grew tighter and his eyes more worried. After Alice had finished, Esme looked up at her husband and asked, "What do we do?"
"I remember what happened with the Volturi," Carlisle mused quietly, almost as if he were talking to himself. "It wasn't pretty, and Fenton Hardy and Charlie Swan are lucky to be alive, and lucky that Aro had more important things on his mind than getting revenge."
"Why had we never heard?" Rosalie asked, her light amber eyes confused.
"It was all handled swiftly and secretly. Anyone who had seen anything in the immediate area was killed. The only people who know the real story are Fenton and Charlie, Marcus, Aro, and Caius, and me, and I believe that we all planned to—theoretically—take it to the grave."
Edward chuckled humorlessly at some unspoken joke.
"But we don't have time; not now," Carlisle said, his words coming out in a rush. "We've got to stop them before the Volturi gets a hold of them. They may have been too busy to go out looking for Fenton or Charlie, but I don't think even Aro could resist revenge when it stands so close and vulnerable…" He paused. "The Volturi will know if we enter the city and will do away with them if we do. What we need is someone who can possibly go in a more subtle manner. We can wait outside the city limits to aid with the escape, but I think that Jacob, Seth, and Leah should actually be the ones to find the young men and escort them to safety, and, if by some great misfortune, they are already in the hands of the Volturi, can alert us and we can go in for the rescue. Bella, you need to stay here with Esme; we don't want the Volturi to be reminded that they need to check in on you just yet; and make sure you keep Renesemee safe. The rest of us will stay right at the city border, ready to jump in to help if it is absolutely necessary."
Alice cringed, her eyes blank for a moment, then murmured, "It will be."
She walked quietly down the street, black hood covering her pale, young, beautiful but frightening face. Her eyes were the darkest black as her eyes scanned the crowd, looking to see some out-of-town folk that might be interested in seeing some ancient ruins. A wry smile touched her small mouth. Maybe they would even stay for dinner. Of course, dinner was an occasion that no tourist lucky enough to visit the Volturi's tourist attraction could ever pass up.
As her black eyes scanned the crowds, she saw a group of people coming out of the Venice Airport. She smiled. There were several French people, a few Hungarians, several Brits and Scots, and, of course, the never-ceasing flow of American tourists with their cameras and funny clothes and floppy hats and ludicrously overlarge sunglasses. Perfect.
Two young men who got off the plane didn't look like your average tourist. One had dark hair, the other light, one with brown eyes, the other with blue. They didn't have fanny-packs or bulky backpacks or mountains of luggage. They had no cameras attached to their belts, nor unpractical, ugly open-toed shoes. And their clothes weren't that funny; at least they didn't wear the bright orange shirt with tiny blue palm trees dotting the already distasteful color, the kind of shirt that seemed to be very popular with American tourists. They were actually quite nice-looking, she noted. If she cared about such things. But looks were not what she cared about. It was about what was on the inside that counts.
She chuckled softly at her secret but morbid joke and decided that this group of travelers would be the Volturi's guests for dinner this evening.
How exciting for her, too bad for them.
The brothers fought through the throng of people, most of them looking to be tourists from surrounding countries. "Wow, Italy," Joe commented. "I'd be psyched out to take a tour, only we've got to go track down what the painting's plaque said—The Volturi, whatever that's supposed to be."
Frank chuckled. "C'mon, hopefully we'll have time for sightseeing later."
"Don't get me wrong," Joe said, "but what are you expecting to find in Italy, Frank? I mean, I know that the picture in the doc's office was a little on the freakish side, but we're not trying to figure out exactly how freakish the Cullens are. We're supposed to find Bella Swan—erm, Cullen."
Frank sighed. "I know. But something's really bugging me about the whole thing. Like all along the answer lay in Venice, but we didn't know it. I just want to figure out what's up with that family. Knowing them better will probably help us figure out where they've got Bella and why."
Joe gave his brother a crooked half-smile. "I thought I was supposed to be the one who relies on gut instincts." Frank shrugged, grinning. Joe went on, "But you don't think Bella's in Venice, do you?"
Frank shook his head slowly. "But I just have a feeling that this is where we need to be to get some answers."
Joe sighed. "I suppose since you've stolen my job as the hot-headed brother that relies on his heart, I should start griping about how you should think things through before hopping on a plane and running off to Italy—Italy of all places—to figure out some mystery that really isn't ours to solve." Frank looked at his brother, frowning. Joe went on, "Too bad I'm just as hooked on the Cullen Factor as you are. So, where do we start?"
She was about to approach the tourists when her ears picked up three words—or rather, names—she hadn't been expecting to hear.
'…painting's plaque said—The Volturi, whatever that's supposed to be… exactly how freakish the Cullens are...supposed to find Bella Swan—erm, Cullen…'
The Volturi. The Cullens. Bella Cullen. Who had said that? She swiveled around and her dark eyes focused in on the two American boys she had noticed briefly a few minutes earlier. She debated quickly, curiosity and suspicion winning—however reluctantly—over thirst, and she made a snap decision. She made her way through the crowd that now wouldn't be joining her for dinner (too bad) and stopped in front of the two teenage boys.
"Hi," she said in a small, quiet voice. "If you're looking for information on the Volturi, I'm the person to talk to. In fact, if you come with me, I can even show you their headquarters."
She smiled grimly as the boys accepted cheerily and followed her into what looked like entrance to catacombs.
No one noticed the three Indian kids barreling out of the airport and into the streets, their wide, brown eyes staring anxiously after Frank and Joe Hardy as the two boys were directed to their doom.
~Emachinescat ^..^