Thank you addicttwilight2. It's still not mine.
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In this part of the story I am the one who
Dies, the only one, and I will die of love because I love you,
Because I love you, Love, in fire and blood.
"I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You," Pablo Neruda.
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Chapter Seven: Fire
Politely, she extracted her hand from his, fighting the urge to retch. She swung the door and Jacob's large brown hand reached out to catch it and hold it open, his knuckles straining white against his skin. Turning her back on Aro, she retreated back into the cool recesses of the loft room.
She could tell from his quiet chuckle that he found her attempt at bravery hilarious. Gritting her teeth, she sat down on the lumpy mattress of the bed and scooted so she was lying comfortably against the pillows.
He had followed her into the room, together with two guards she vaguely remembered from the last time she'd been in this castle. His filmy eyes looked around the simple whitewashed walls, noting their lack of luggage, taking his time in his appraisal. Jacob closed the door and then leaned back against it. His arms were trembling. She shot him a warning look.
Aro's voice snapped her back to the reality of the situation. "I trust you've been comfortable here?" he enquired politely.
She inclined her neck stiffly. He frowned.
"I had hoped that we could offer you one of the more luxurious rooms, but in retrospect this seemed to be the best option..."
She nodded again, understanding. The room was isolated, high up at the top of the castle, where in the olden days servants must have slept. Where nobody could hear her scream.
Finally, he advanced towards her, his hand reaching out to touch her cheek lightly. She wondered whether his insistence on physical contact was just another twisted attempt at humanity for him, or if he was still trying to glean the secrets of her silent mind.
He sighed regretfully. "Even in your human incarnation and with that abysmal haircut, you are most lovely. My young friend chose well."
Her hands balled into fists. She saw his eyes narrow as he noticed and quickly relaxed.
Forcing her voice to remain steady, she spoke. "Speaking of Edward."
Aro smiled brightly, motioned for her to continue.
Her heart beat faster. "I'd like some confirmation, please."
He quirked his eyebrow at her. "Confirmation of what, my dear?"
She stared at him, refusing to blink. "Of his continued existence. I assume your guard is still in place and waiting to strike. I want to make sure no pre-emptive action has been taken."
He laughed amiably. "Am I that untrustworthy, dear Bella? Might I remind you that you came to this place of your own free will?"
Her eyes hardened. "You didn't give me much of a choice."
His hands waved in the air dismissively, as if the tearing apart of her life had been a trivial detail. "The law is the law, Mrs. Cullen. Your husband broke it. We acted accordingly."
She noticed his vacillation between calling her by her christian and marriage names. She wasn't sure which was worse – the grating familiarity and contrived Italian accent with which he voiced the two-syllable cadence of Bella, or the nauseous reminder of her marriage and all it had engendered.
"I just want to make sure," she said coolly.
He sighed, shaking his head sadly as if her distrust in him was hard to bear.
"Very well," he said sorrowfully. "Felix..."
The burliest member of the guard stepped forward. Bella ignored his fiendish grin, ignored the flash of fire in Jacob's eyes as he noted how the vampire was eyeing her. She focused on the small silver phone in his hand.
Aro clicked his fingers, and seconds later the phone was pressed to his ear. She almost laughed at the absurd reality of a thousand-year-old vampire so at ease with modern technology.
His voice was sweet as he spoke into the receiver. "You haven't moved from your position, I trust?" A few seconds of silence stretched in the room, during which time he nodded approvingly. "Good. I am in need of proof of that, it would seem. You know what to do."
He hung up. Seconds later, the phone gave a cheerful chirp.
He handed it over to her, smiling as he motioned for her to read the new message. Warily, she pressed a button and then gasped as she recognised her husband's face in profile. He was standing near one of the upstairs bedrooms of the Cullen home. She couldn't glean any clues from his fuzzy expression, but he was at least standing upright and appeared to be unscathed.
She snapped the phone closed and handed it silently back to Aro.
"Thank you."
He nodded, looking at her He seemed to be waiting for her to make the first move.
Her mouth was suddenly dry. Ignoring her sweaty palms, she yanked her makeshift necklace up and over her head, stuffing the rings deeply into the pocket of her jeans, and swept what remained of her hair to one side.
"Let's just get this over with," she said quietly.
The world darkened as he leaned close to her, his large form blocking out the light from the window. She could feel her heart thundering in her chest, fighting, fighting. As if one in a dream, she saw his devil's eyes as they danced merrily, saw his loathsome head bow slightly and felt his ancient lips touch her neck.
He kissed her there once and that act was almost worse than what was to come. She cast her eyes to the corner of the room, finding Jacob, staring at him, the one good reminder of the life that was so shortly to end. One of her fists was clenched tightly around the rings in her pocket.
The seconds ticked by. Aro's lips were an inch away from her neck. As she waited for him to start, her brain kicked into overdrive. All she could think of was Edward and the last time they'd discussed her change.
It had been predictable, mundane really. While wandering through the streets of Paris, she had released Edward's hand to take a closer look at an ornate lantern at the side of the street. Her eyes fixed on the gold leaf and swirling, intricate design of it, and her right foot had found the only loose cobblestone in Paris. She'd tripped and landed hard on her knees on the road.
Dazed, she'd had about three seconds of gaping in abject terror as three separate lanes of maniacal French drivers bore down on her, and then Edward had caught her around the waist and pulled her back to safety.
She'd clung to him, watching in wide-eyed fear as cars whizzed past where she'd lain only seconds earlier. Edward's breathing was harsh in her ear.
Eventually they had both calmed and he'd drawn back to brush a lock of hair off her sweaty forehead.
"Promise me you won't leave it too long," he had whispered, his voice both tender and terrified. "One day I might be too late."
Grimly she gritted her teeth and wished fervently that she'd been wise enough to take him up on his offer. He'd been ready and willing, and she – she'd been so caught up in the desires of her weak human body that she'd delayed things, and therefore had led them headfirst into this stupid stupid –
Then she felt teeth puncture her neck lightly, and her entire being dissolved under the first lick of fiery pain, rationality becoming impossible as her mind shrieked in disbelief and agony. She felt her body jerk, her spine bowing so much she actually feared it would crack, her every muscle spasming in shock and horror. Her stomach roiled and bucked, white-hot lances of pain spearing throughout every limb.
Dimly she was aware of a shrill sound in her ears, of air rushing past her and a lightness permeating her eyes as Aro's frame suddenly disappeared. She became aware that what she was hearing was her own screams, bubbling forth from her already-raw throat.
Then heat, blazing heat wrapped itself around her, and she screamed even louder, if possible. The flames intensified, dancing in sadistic glee around her, throwing her headfirst into a world of acid and razors and broken glass and everything painful in the world. There was no relief from it, though her body still jerked and pulsed, trying its best to free itself from the torture, to escape this internal hell.
"Edward," she mouthed, the sound imperceptible to her own ears. The fire intensified and she threw her head back, the cords of her neck standing out painfully as she shrieked her husband's name, as she moaned and sobbed and screamed, crying like a pitiful child for the comfort that would never come.
Then there was blissful darkness when her eyes squeezed themselves shut, a heavy weight in her chest as her muscles sagged and stopped fighting, and she let herself dive down to experience the false rest of unconsciousness for the very last time.
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