24.

They walked through a narrow stone corridor, deep underground, within the very bowels of the city. It smelled dank and musty, of old age and times long past.

The whisper of soft (nearly silent) thoughts pressed at the edges of Edward's mind. Echoes of memories that drifted through damp air, clung to ancient walls.

He did his best to ignore them.

Jasper and Alice led the way; his palm rested on the small of his wife's back. Her mind rifled through a seemingly endless stream of possible futures. Edward caught glimpses of her visions, colored swatches and momentary fragments.

Carlisle and Edward walked behind. The man kept close to his side, but did not touch him.

Emmett and Rose followed swiftly, silently.

No one spoke, though Edward could sense the undercurrent of fear, of concern twining with an almost preternatural alertness. He took a deep breath, forcing air into his lungs; he desperately needed a cigarette.

Without thinking, Edward shifted closer to Carlisle. Their hands brushed. The man slid his forefinger across Edward's palm before letting his hand fall away again.

They reached a narrow staircase, creeping up into the darkness and stopped.

Alice turned toward them. "They don't know we're coming."

Carlisle nodded. "Are you sure?"

She paused, biting her lip. "Yes. But they will pretend that they do, that they are expecting us."

The man nodded again. "And the others?"

Alice closed her eyes. "The guard is not here. They are on their way but should not make it in time."

"You must be certain," Jasper said, placing a hand on her shoulder. His voice was low and intense.

"I am." She looked up at him. "They know we left town shortly after…" Her voice wavered, but she swallowed once and continued, "shortly after Esme. But they do not know we came here. They simply think we took the boy and fled."

"And that's why it had to be here," Carlisle said, smiling softly at the girl. "Well done, Alice."

She pursed her lips. "Nothing is done yet."

"Right," Carlisle spoke again. "They should be in the great hall." He looked to Alice for confirmation, and she nodded (a quick bob of her head). "The room is spacious, but there is not much in way of protection. Once we are there, we will be exposed."

The others nodded, their expressions somber.

Edward could feel his heart in his throat; blood rushed in his ears.

"Jasper and I will handle Aro. Though he is anything but predictable, I know him best." His voice was calm as he reiterated their strategy. "Alice, Rose, your attention will be on Marcus and Caius. They are very strong, but both prefer not to get their hands dirty."

Edward forced himself to continue breathing (in, out, in again). Carlisle placed a cold hand on his back, right between his shoulder blades, but kept his eyes on the two girls.

"Once Aro is out of the equation, I do not believe the others will perpetuate an attack."

Again Alice nodded in agreement.

"And the wives?" Rose asked.

Jasper shook his head. "No. The wives do not fight."

"Emmett," the man said, turning to face the largest vampire. "You will protect Alice and Rose. Do what you can to help them, but you must defend Edward."

Emmett nodded.

"His role is paramount, and he will be defenseless against them."

Rosalie huffed audibly. Though her thoughts were a jumble of indecipherable emotion, Edward could literally feel her irritation, her fear, her anger.

"Carlisle," she said, voice clipped, terse. It was clear she was doing everything in her power to remain calm. "Why are we bringing him? He is only a liability." She looked at Edward with something akin to loathing.

He could not disagree with her assessment.

Edward knew he was helpless, and Rosalie's husband, her entire family were putting themselves in grave danger because of him. "She's right," he whispered. He could barely make his mouth form the words. "I shouldn't be here."

Carlisle ignored him. "Edward is here because he is the only chance we have. We need him, and we will do everything in our power to protect him." His eyes were cold, unblinking. "Is that clear?"

Rosalie ducked her head. "Yes Carlisle."

"Good." The man looked at Edward then. He was masking his thoughts, but his expression revealed his concern. "We will protect you, but you must stay out of the way."

Edward nodded, tried to slow the pounding of his heart.

The man gripped Edward's shoulders. "Look at me."

Edward did.

"You must listen carefully. You will hear something. Something important."

He was shaking his head. "No…"

"Yes," the man insisted. "I know you will."

Edward swallowed quickly, tried to bite back the rising panic. "How will I know? How will I know what's important?"

The man smiled slightly (a tight curve of lovely lips). "Trust me. You will."

They climbed the narrow staircase in single file. Carlisle kept a reassuring hand on Edward's hip. He fought the urge to lean into the touch, to sink to the floor, to stop moving altogether. Somehow he managed to keep going, one step after another.

The walls were lined with torches, flickering against the dark. Water (black like ink, like blood) dripped down cracked gray stone.

After a seemingly endless progression of steps, they emerged into an open corridor. Light spilled in from a window high overhead.

It was eerily quiet.

"Alice?" Carlisle asked.

She closed her eyes, shook her head. "No. Nothing."

"Good."

They walked through a door into a large vestibule. The stone floor gave way to white marble. The walls were lined with stained glass. Colored light (ruby, amber, sapphire, green) bathed the room in a jewel hued glow.

As they moved quickly through a series of rooms (each more opulent than the last), Edward began to feel as though they were in a museum. They passed halls filled with countless numbers of no doubt priceless paintings and sculptures. There were rooms hung with extravagant tapestries and others lined with furs and exquisite Oriental rugs.

When they walked by a doorway opening onto the most breathtaking library Edward had ever seen, he almost forgot his fear.

Carlisle stepped behind him, as he paused to stare. "Lovely, isn't it?"

"Yes."

"Aro knows a thing or two about luxury." His hand brushed the back of Edward's arm. "I lived here once, you know."

Edward hadn't known. "No," he whispered. Frankly the thought startled him.

"It was a very long time ago." The man's thoughts softened for a moment, but that was all. "Come. We must go."

Soon they came to a long hallway leading to a heavy wooden door.

"They know," Alice whispered suddenly, face paler than usual.

"That was to be expected," Carlisle said, as he looked at the others. "It's time."

Emmett moved to stand directly in front of Edward, as Jasper pushed open the door.

It led to a large open room. He saw Aro immediately. He was seated on a raised dais, flanked by two equally beautiful, dangerous men: the other Volturi.

"Ah, Carlisle," Aro said. He did not stand. "What a pleasure it is to see you again." His eyes were a pale, bloody crimson. "And you've brought your lovely family."

"Aro," Carlisle said, voice flat. Then: "Marcus, Caius." He inclined his head as he addressed the others.

The blond man said nothing, did not acknowledge Carlisle at all; rather, he continued to stare down at his no doubt perfectly manicured fingernails.

Marcus, though, smiled a genuine smile. "Carlisle, it has been far too long."

"Yes, yes, of course," Aro echoed before he could say anything else. "And we must express our deepest condolences for the recent loss of your wife."

Carlisle went perfectly rigid, though his expression remained unreadable. Edward listened as his thoughts flashed from anger to grief to sadness to fury.

Rosalie growled, low in her throat. The sound was predatory, nearly feral, and it chilled the blood in Edward's veins. Emmett placed a hand on her shoulder, willing her to remain calm. No. Not yet. Don't let him get to you.

After a moment, Carlisle spoke, "you know she was not my wife." His voice was controlled, carefully measured. "But she was my partner. The mother to my family. We all feel her loss greatly."

"Of course you do," Aro said, the shadow of a smile flickering across his face. "Sometimes, I believe, we all take our…permanence on this earth for granted."

"Yes," Carlisle's hands clenched into fists. "Perhaps we do." Edward knew his control was wearing dangerously thin. But he also knew that Aro was baiting him, knew it was all a cruel game to him.

"Well, enough of this depressing talk. There is no reason to dwell on that which we cannot change." The vampire actually smiled at that, a malevolent twist of pale lips. "And, I see you've brought me your pet."

His gaze fell on Edward then, and it was all he could do not to cringe at the unnatural stare. Aro inhaled deeply, eyes fluttering closed. "Yes. He is lovely. I understand, Carlisle, why he appeals to you."

Alice's back stiffened (he could see the tight line of her spine). She stepped backward so that he shoulder touched Edward's. Emmett rocked forward on the balls of his feet, powerful body tense, poised to lung. Edward forced down his fear, held his breath, and directed every ounce of his energy toward the man. He listened desperately, blocking everything else out.

Yet Aro's thoughts were completely, entirely, shockingly bare.

It was as thought he were staring into an endless abyss. There was absolutely nothing there. And that utter void was terrifying.

"How charming," Aro said, lips twisting further. Then he laughed, a sinister sound. "Carlisle, you must tell the boy that his gift will not work on me. Though," he steepled thin fingers together, "I am so pleased to see that he is learning to focus his skills." He rose to his feet, clasping white hands in front of his body. "He will fit in so nicely here."

"We have not brought him to you, Aro. He will not be joining your ranks."

The man frowned. He actually looked surprised at Carlisle's comment, as though it had never occurred to him that he might be denied. "Pardon?"

"We will not surrender the boy," Carlisle's voice was firm, authoritative. "He is not yours to use according to fancy or whim."

Aro's face hardened. All pretence of amity vanished, and his bloodied eyes flashed dangerously. "Then, you see, we have quite a problem."

Everything happened very quickly after that.

The other two men were on their feet, though it was Aro that lunged forward. Jasper moved, lightening quick, flinging his body between the ancient vampire and the others. Their bodies collided with a horrendous thud, and Edward felt Emmett's powerful arms tug him out of the way just before they crashed to the ground right where Edward had been standing.

Aro was on top of Jasper, his arm at his throat.

Edward knew Jasper was incredibly strong, yet it was clear the older vampire was far stronger. Strange, Edward thought absently; his body seemed quite fragile.

As Jasper struggled beneath him (twisting, clawing, biting), Edward heard Alice cry out (Jasper!), but she did not move from her position beside Rosalie; the two girls stood between them and the other two Volturi.

"Watch them!" Carlisle yelled, as he moved to help Jasper, hands clutching at Aro's shoulders. The vampire loosened his hold on Jazz's neck, but kept him pinned easily against the ground.

"Now, now, Carlisle," he said, throwing Carlisle off with apparent ease. "There is really no need for violence." Even as he said the words, Caius and Marcus circled closer to Alice and Rose. The girls shifted slightly, watching their movement.

Emmett kept his body in front of Edward, as Carlisle lunged at Aro once more. This time he succeeded in pulling him back, and Jasper was on his feet in an instant.

"Edward will be happy here," he continued, turning as Jasper and Carlisle circled around him. "I will give him power, prestige, immortality." Though outnumbered, Aro's voice was conversational and unconcerned.

Edward tried to listen again, tried to slip unguarded into vampire's thoughts, but still there was nothing.

His fear swelled to a new height, as he tried once more (desperately) to find something in the seemingly empty space inside his mind.

But still there was nothing.

"You can't have the boy, Aro," Carlisle growled, distracting Edward from his task. He had never heard the man's voice so fierce.

But the vampire simply shrugged an elegant shoulder and nodded to Caius and Marcus. They moved closer to Alice and Rosalie.

Though the Cullens were five and the Volturi three, Edward knew they were surrounded. The ancient vampires were simply waiting for the moment they would strike as one.

Jasper and Carlisle moved, each mirroring the other's motion, their attention only on Aro. But the man simply stood, perfectly still, posture relaxed; his lips curved into a unsettling smile. He was obviously enjoying things immensely.

Then Jasper lunged once more, and as Aro moved out of his grasp, Edward heard the old vampire sigh.

"Are you quite certain this is what you wish, Carlisle?" he asked, tone resigned. "It will not end well."

And for one hysterical moment, Edward wanted to give himself up, surrender to Aro (anything to protect Carlisle, protect the Cullens). But Emmett must have sensed what he was thinking because he moved backward in one fluid moment, pushing Edward against the wall. The impact forced the air out of his lungs; he tried to move but was held fast.

No. Emmett's thoughts practically growled at him. You will not do anything to compromise Carlisle's plans.

"But I—" he managed to gasp, and Aro looked over at him expectantly.

"Ah, yes, Edward," he said cheerfully. "How entirely inconsiderate of us to not ask for your opinion."

"Don't hurt them," he pleaded. He couldn't move. Emmett's shoulder was bruising his collarbone.

The vampire laughed (a quick burst of sinister sound). "I have no desire to hurt anyone. I simply…"

"Now!" Carlisle's voice interrupted him and in a moment (blurred by movement quicker than sound) the Cullens attacked. Carlisle and Jasper flew at Aro, managing to catch him off guard, the same moment the two girls struck (Rose throwing herself at Caius, Alice at Marcus).

They moved too fast; Edward's eyes couldn't keep up. But he saw the flash of motion as Aro's arm connected with Carlisle's chest. The man's body soared through the air and crashed into an ornate column ten feet away. Chunks of marble fell the floor, as he collapsed to the ground a few feet in front of Edward.

Edward bit his lip to keep from crying out. His heart was pounding so loudly against his ribs, he could barely hear above the rush of blood. But he could do nothing. He couldn't even move from where Emmett held him against the wall.

Jasper dove for Aro, but the vampire dodged him easily, spinning around to face Edward and Emmett again. His pale face was alive with a feverish, fanatical glow. Edward tried to clear his head, tried to listen for what he was supposed to hear, but the steady whine of panic in his head threatened to drown everything else out.

Carlisle was struggling to get to his feet again.

And as Alice managed to knock Marcus to the ground, Caius had Rosalie round the waist, mouth dangerously close to her neck. Edward felt Emmett's sudden rush of panic.

And though he frantically listened for something (anything), all rational thought was obscured by the chaos of battle. Thoughts and emotions, colors and sound clashed violently, and in the end everything was smudged beyond recognition.

"Oh," Aro exclaimed, once again dancing beyond Jasper's reach. "I imagine this situation seems familiar. Doesn't it, dear Rose?"

She struggled against Caius' grasp, but said nothing.

"Except for you are now in her position, hmm?"

"Rosalie…" Emmett breathed, and Edward saw the girl shake her head slightly. Her husband did not move from his position protecting Edward.

"Yes," Aro continued, "I imagine you now know exactly how your lovely Esme felt, just before her death."

Edward wanted to scream out, but in that moment, everything seemed to stand still. Carlisle and Jasper stood on either side of Aro, though they both seemed to understand that any sudden movement would result in Rose's death.

Alice remained on top of Marcus, but she was no longer attacking him. And Emmett held his breath, watching, waiting.

Then Edward heard it, an unspoken voice that was not Aro's.

Edward…

He jerked his head up, listening carefully.

Edward, tell the girl to save her sister. I will not hurt any of you.

Edward looked to the ground and (yes) Marcus' eyes caught his. His face was serene, calm. The man nodded once (a minute dip of his head), and Edward knew this was what he'd been waiting for.

You must tell her now. There is little time.

"Alice…" he barely whispered the word. Edward could hardly hear it on his own lips. But Alice did.

She did not move, but her thoughts were clear. What?

"Look."

And when the girl closed her eyes, he knew she was seeing the future she needed to see.

In a moment she was on her feet, pulling Caius away from Rose, twisting him against her body. Rosalie turned on the vampire instantly, helping her sister hold him.

"Carlisle, Jasper!" Edward cried. "Now!" He pushed at Emmett and he understood. Together the three men charged at Aro.

The ancient vampire lunged too, this time toward Edward. The impact sent him crashing back into the wall. The sensation was oddly surreal. He heard himself cry out, but the sound seemed distant and muted, as if he were listening to himself underwater. His head ached. His muscles tensed, then his body relaxed voluntarily. Pain cut quick, sliced across his shoulder, down the center of his chest. It pulled at his spine, jarred his skull, and blurred his vision.

But then he knew that Emmett and Jasper had Aro by the arms, as Carlisle pulled him to the floor. And though the vampire was unthinkably strong, he could not fight off the three Cullens together. Not without help, at least.

And Marcus was standing off to the side, regarding the scene with a chilling impassivity. (Caius, still held by Rose and Alice, made no visible move to break free.)

Edward saw blackness prick across his vision; he could not keep his eyes open any longer.

25.

Carlisle had him in his arms. Of that much, Edward was certain.

He smelled smoke. Fire. But he knew he was not burning. The man's lovely face swam into view for a moment and then was gone. Darkness oozed around his eyes, slipping into his view; there was only light in pinpricks. His entire body hurt.

Yet, he could feel the steady rhythm of Carlisle's chest, as he breathed in and out against him.

"And what do you intend to do now, Carlisle?" Caius asked, the vampire's voice cut, clear and cool, though his mind's haze. Though his tone seemed bored, Edward could sense an undercurrent of apprehension slipping between his words. "Take the place Aro has vacated?"

Edward wondered vacantly where Marcus had gone.

"No," the man said. "I only wish to take my family and go home."

"I see," Caius said, though it was rather clear he didn't. "And do you now intend to turn him? He has lost a great deal of blood." His voice carried a faint note of distaste.

Through half-closed eyes, Edward still registered the detached expression on the old vampire's face. He regarded him as one might a particularly dull science experiment.

Carlisle tensed, reflexively, instinctively, arms tightening around him.

Edward groaned as a new wave of pain washed over him. The man's grip loosened slightly.

"No," he said. "I will not do that to him."

"Pity," Caius said, milky red eyes flickering to Edward once again, "just think of how…interesting his particular talents would be."

"Perhaps," Carlisle said, voice clipped. His concern bled through the indistinct layers of Edward's consciousness. "But that does not give anyone the right to take his life away."

The vampire shrugged as if tiring of the proceedings. "My dear Carlisle, you have always been afflicted by such a plebian sense of morality."

"Be that as it may, he is injured. We must leave so I can attend to him."

"Yes, yes. Of course," Caius said apathetically (as if it made no difference one way or the other). "Take the human and go. I will give you twenty-four hours to leave the city." He looked down at his shoulder, brushing an invisible speck of lint off his cloak. "After that, I cannot assure that my colleagues will be so…accommodating."

26.

Back at the hotel, Carlisle helped Edward onto the bed. He quickly took his medical kit and laid out supplies. The others had left the suite. There was too much blood; the allure was too strong.

Only Alice remained. She stood in the doorway a safe distance away (her thoughts skipping like a stone across water). "There is so much blood Carlisle. Why are you ignoring what I've seen?"

"Because that is not the only future, Alice." Edward felt a cool hand at his forehead. "It cannot be."

"Why?" the girl asked, voice soft. "You would be happy."

Carlisle's hand fell away. "My feelings are irrelevant."

"Perhaps they shouldn't be."

The man's hands removed his clothing (cold, clinical fingers tugging at his shirt). Somewhere, in a murky corner of Edward's mind, he wished the circumstances were different, that Carlisle would undress him, touch him for real. Another wave of pain brought him back to the present, to Carlisle's hands mapping a trail across his ribs, precisely, assuredly, tenderly assessing the damage.

A warm cloth dabbed at his collarbone, swept across his chest; Carlisle's cold touch soothed the sting, and Edward felt the now dulled prick and tug as the man worked to knit his skin back together.

Practiced stitches crisscrossing smooth skin.

Then the lovely comforting calming hands were gone and he immediately missed their chill.

But those same fingers stroked along his jaw, opened his mouth to pour bitter medicine on his tongue. "Swallow, Edward," his voice whispered. "You need to sleep. There is a little time before we need to leave."

And Edward allowed his mind to drift aimlessly as the drug took effect, floating slowly (though layers of gray and blue) until everything was thoughtless, weightless, still.

27.

Edward awoke feeling thick and heavy (as though surfacing from underwater). Everything was cloudy and out of focus, yet he was acutely aware of the man's presence beside him.

For a while he dozed, drifting fitfully between sleep and wakefulness. His body ached, and pain (though dulled by drugs) still slit through his awareness. Still, he knew Carlisle was there.

When he rolled over again it was the middle of the night. The red glow of the digital clock illuminated the room. Edward groaned and sat up, trailing his fingers over the bandage that wrapped round his ribs.

"How do you feel?" the man asked. He sat perfectly still on the edge of the bed, back against the headboard.

"Better, I think," Edward said, twisting from side to side. But a sharp twinge (like a blade slicing below his clavicle) made him cry out, and Carlisle was at his side in an instant.

"Here, what is it? Lie back, try not to move." Cold hands pressed at his chest, palm sliding across his ribcage. "The cut was deep. You will have a scar." Carlisle's voice was dispassionate, revealing none of the concern that sparked across his mind. "But it missed your major blood vessels. I was able to stitch it up. Otherwise—" his fingertips pressed at a particularly tender spot then, and Edward gasped, cutting the man off.

"Bruised but not broken," he said simply. "You will be sore for several days, but you were quite lucky." His hands fell away from Edward's torso; he felt their absence intensely. "We will not leave for another hour or so. You should try to get some more rest."

Edward sat up, ignoring the sudden stab of pain, and shifted closer to the other man. "I'm fine. I do feel better."

"Do you want more medicine?" Carlisle asked, his tone still clinical. "Your body needs time to recover."

"Perhaps later."

"I'll leave you then. Try to sleep." He moved to stand up, but Edward placed a hand on his arm.

"No. Stay."

Carlisle looked down at where Edward's fingers curled around his wrist. Even through the linen of his shirt, Edward could feel the chill of the man's skin against his palm. The sensation had become strangely comforting.

"Why didn't you change me?" he asked, voice barely a murmur.

Carlisle inhaled sharply, pulling his arm away. His thoughts raced, turbulent, reckless and chaotic.

"You could have turned me," he whispered, looking directly at the other man. "I know what Alice saw."

"Alice saw nothing," he snapped. "One mere possibility amidst a sea of potential outcomes."

"But you wanted to," Edward said, reaching out to brush a fingertip against the man's hand again. "I know you wanted to."

"What I want matters little."

"But what if I want that too?"

Carlisle turned to him, gold eyes wild; he looked horrified. "Then you have no idea what you want."

"No, I…" Edward started to protest, but Carlisle shook his head.

"You do not know what you're asking of me."

"But I thought…you said, well…" Edward faltered, tongue tripping over the words. "What happened between us…I thought you wanted me."

The man said nothing.

"But I understand that can't happen with me…" human, vulnerable… "like this," he finished lamely.

Carlisle shook his head, still said nothing.

Edward tried to slip inside his thoughts only to find them carefully blank.

"That night, when we were together," Edward tried again. "I was…" happy, but even in his head the word sounded trite, inelegant. "It was what I wanted," he whispered instead. "You have to know that. And, if I were like you, then we could make it work."

"No." His voice was cold; it chilled Edward more than the man's touch ever could. "Listen to me, Edward," he continued slowly, enunciating each word clearly, deliberately. "What happened between us was a mistake. It was nothing more than a serious lapse of judgment. And, for that, I have no excuse," he paused, pinching the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger. "Aside from, of course, the grief I was suffering over the loss of Esme."

Edward wasn't in love with the man (no, nothing as foolishly sentimental as that), but the words still sliced like a blade. He was certain he felt the skin tearing just below his collarbone, leaving him bleeding again.

Somehow, though, he managed to bite back the small cry rising in his throat and just nodded. "Oh…"

His chest ached.

"Now, if that's all, Mr. Masen, I have several things I must take care of before we depart."

The hand around his heart tightened its grip.

"Oh…oh, of course," he managed, voice choked and rough and humiliating.

Edward felt as though he'd been slapped. He could no longer tell if the ache in his chest was from the physical injury he'd sustained or the emotional blow Carlisle had just dealt. Something felt like it had been forcibly ripped from his chest (behind his ribs, just below his heart).

Through all their interactions, the man had never called him anything other than Edward.

Without another word, Carlisle stood and left the room.