The cobblestone streets of Verona were narrow and busy. Three men of chalky pallor stood erect in a balcony above the bustle.
"There's no way he won't change her this time," said Caius. "There's far too much at stake."
Marcus chuckled. "Her life, namely."
"And if he doesn't change her, well, then," said Aro. "Our little Friar's drought will." He pulled a vial from his cloak. "When she wakes up from that fake sleep of hers, she'll be one of us."
Caius smiled. "And once she is a vampire, she's ours."
Aro raised a small glass of what would have appeared to be wine, were it not such a bright shade of red.
"To the Volturi," he toasted.
"To the Volturi!"