All characters are the property of Stephenie Meyer. All original characters and storylines belong to some frequent flyer chic who witnessed a wanna-be terrorist derail airport security by bolting thru a security checkpoint, shouting "I'm King! I'm King!" We don't know why, and we really don't want to know why....
Check out my blog for updates: gkkstitch-gkkmouse(dot)blogspot(dot)com
**The Indie TwiFic Award first round of voting is open**
www(dot)theindietwificawards(dot)/vote(dot)aspx
Thanks to everyone who nominated Absolución for "Canon or AU story that knocks you off your feet (WIP)." Round One of voting is now open, and will end on March 2nd.
Chapter 10: For those who watch, beware
Halifax, Nova Scotia
Esme's quick steps crunched the now dried leaves that carpeted the forest floor as she hurried to catch up with Carlisle. She did not call out for him. She knew him well enough to know that he'd stop and wait for her if she called to him. By not calling out his name, Carlisle likewise knew that she'd let him wander alone if that was what he needed.
She swallowed her relief when she heard his footsteps stop and wait for her. She wasn't aware of the smile that appeared so naturally on her face when she reached him and saw that he was waiting, looking back for her. Having looked into his eyes so many times, she could see the weariness in him by the set of his shoulders, the tightness around his eyes. They were little things that anyone else would miss if they didn't know him well. She could also see his relief to have her with him and that meant more to her than anything in the world.
She slid easily into his arms as she had so many times before and curled under his chin. His hands slid over her shoulders, winding around her body as he pulled her closer with a sigh of homecoming.
"Missed you," Esme sighed, stroking his back.
There was wry amusement in his voice when he said, "Edward took me for a ride in his car," as his fingertips traced her ear.
"Did he?" she asked, faking innocence and fighting the tingling that raced up and down her back. She leaned back to look into Carlisle's face, reading his mood. He wouldn't meet her gaze, but she felt his love. "That was nice of him."
He was staring at his fingers on her skin. "Mmm," Carlisle hummed, not fooled at all.
His dexterous fingers found the pins in her hair and gently pulled them free letting her hair fall loosely over her shoulders. Esme watched the fascination in his eyes as he coaxed the remainder of her hair free from the twist with one hand while the other traced down the smooth column of her throat.
"Very nice of him, indeed. Did he think of it on his own?" he murmured, mesmerized by the way her hair slipped through his fingers.
"I may have put the idea in his head," she breathed.
Esme's hands moved over the length of his back, breathing him in deep breaths, letting his presence focus her. He pulled a lock of her hair over her neck with his fingers, trailing them into the hollow of her throat and collarbone, then moving from her hair in favor of her smooth skin.
"It is a very nice car," he muttered absently, his eyes belying the true focus of his thoughts. His eyes were starved for the sight of her and followed the path traced by his fingers along the wide v-neck neckline of her blouse.
"That's why it wasn't hard to..." —she stopped with a gasp as Carlisle's fingers pulled against the material of her shirt to sweep over the curve of her breast— "...to convince him," she sighed with soft moan.
It had been more than a week since he had touched her like this, but to both of them the days had felt like years. His depression had changed everything about his patterns, from their intimacy to his interactions with the outside world. This was the Carlisle she remembered. This was the man she loved.
He still would not meet her burning eyes, knowing if he did, her expression would be his undoing. His wife was too loving, too caring and too connected to him. He knew if he looked into her eyes, he would see her worry and concerns for him mixed with her hunger. If he saw that, his guilt for dragging her down with him, for being unable to hide this turmoil from her, would crush his will to share this with her now. His need for her love, knowing she needed this as desperately as he did, kept his eyes focused only on his exploring fingers.
Her hands clutched the material of his shirt. He pulled the collar of her blouse over one slim shoulder and pressed his lips to the newly exposed skin.
"We're too close to the house," she whispered.
Together and without a sound, they called out to Edward in their minds, Edward, turn off the yard lights, please! Neither of them had any way of knowing that Edward was already occupied with his own wife.
Still, the floodlight behind the house flicked off and on before going out entirely; the family's own version of a necktie on a door knob. It was one of several small ways the younger couples communicated the need for privacy to each other. Carlisle and Esme had never used it before, opting for more prudence about their trysts. Between the four gifted vampires in their family, at least three of them knew when to offer a helping hand when it came to the need for discretion; this time, it was Alice who had stepped up.
His lips parted as he began to lightly suck on her skin, tasting her with his tongue. Cool air touched his chest as she made short work of the buttons on his shirt, spreading the material so she could touch him. Carlisle pulled down the other shoulder of her shirt's neckline past her shoulder, hampered by her own buttons. With a small twist of his fingers, the tiny button relinquished its hold. He took full advantage of the fissure it created and demanded the same obedience from the following buttons until her torso was exposed. Carlisle pressed his palm to the center of her chest with a soft sigh.
Esme knew what he wanted. She ran her hands over his chest, up his neck and into his hair, stretching her arms over him in silent communication. Without pause, he wrapped his arms around her hips and reverently lifted her against him. Esme wrapped her legs around his waist, locking herself to him. Her arms curled around his head as he pressed his face over her heart, surrounding his head with her scent. Her blouse hung from her shoulders now curtaining him off from the rest of the world.
His lips and nose caressed her, slowly sweeping back and forth over the soft slopes that rose on either side, nibbling on her skin, tasting her without venturing outside the valley of her breasts. Her fingers scraped and massaged his scalp. As he grew increasingly intoxicated and urgency overcame him, she heard the soft metallic sound of his belt's clasp. In a single fluid motion, he pulled aside her panties as he crossed his ankles and lowered to the ground, sitting with his legs crossed and her astride him. She pressed against him, taking him into her body with a slow steady push.
Carlisle's breath came in short pants against her chest. She placed her hands on either side of his head, lifting his face to hers and tightening her legs around him. She became still waiting for him to open his eyes. He fought again to not look at her by keeping his eyes closed, but he could feel her insistence that he open them. With a light sigh, he looked at her and froze in her gaze. There was no worry there, no pain. There was only her love for him, her devotion, her constancy. She looked steadily at him with eternity in her eyes.
He swallowed hard, mesmerized.
A tender smile began to tug at her lips as her thumbs stroked his cheeks. She kissed his forehead and trailed her lips to his eyelids, then his nose. She pulled back slightly and he fell into her eyes once again; willingly now, eagerly. As she pressed a gentle kiss to his lips, she rocked over him, taking his small moan as a gift. She moved slowly, taking him deeper with each pass, pressing chaste kisses lightly to his lips. He did not guide her or challenge her. He sat utterly undone beneath her and let his wife heal him with her love.
Long past their climax, they sat unchanged, still connected physically and reconnecting spiritually within the circle of each other's arms, until they heard Jasper calling to them from the house in quiet apology.
§∞•••∞§
Bella stood at the window looking at the spot where Edward had disappeared into the forest. He had decided to quickly feed before the Romanians arrived. She stared at the water dripping slowly from the boughs of the ancient trees that surrounded the yard. It was odd to think of the Volturi and Romanians becoming vampires when these giants were delicate seedlings. In an odd way, they grew up together, watched the earth and all those on it evolve for millennia. Even though they were alike in age and in their towering presence over all those younger, they were impressively indifferent to each other with one striking difference; these sentinels watched in silence, unconcerned with the daily goings on at their feet. The ancient vampires did not.
She silently wished the Volturi could be just as indifferent towards her. She thought back to their first meeting. It seemed so long ago, and she had been so afraid for Edward. The entire event was clouded by her exhaustion and emotions, and obscured further since her change. What she remembered the most, however, was Jane's attack on Edward and the excruciating pain carved into his face. Bella wrapped her arms around herself with a shudder. She wondered if they would do the same to Rolle.
Alice walked across the living room toward Bella and silently wrapped her arms around her.
"Hi," Bella said surprised and confused, returning the hug. Alice did not respond with her usual good cheer. In fact, she felt almost small and wilted in Bella's arms. "What's wrong?" she whispered to her friend and sister.
Alice took a long slow breath as if it caused great exertion. "This is how it starts," Alice whispered back.
"How what starts?" Bella asked before remembering what Alice had said about happiness and worry going hand in hand. She had said that when you're happy, your only worry was losing that happiness. Bella stroked Alice's hair and kissed the top of her head.
"I love you," Alice said.
"I love you, too, Alice," Bella told her and squeezed her tighter, before asking again, "Please tell me what you see."
"The Romanians will be here in less than an hour," Alice whispered. "They're going to tell us what they know about Rolle, and then Carlisle will decide that it isn't safe for anyone if Rolle stays with the Volturi so he'll go to Italy."
Bella tried to understand the worry behind Alice's vision, but could not find it. "Why is that bad?"
Alice started to shake in Bella's arms. "I don't see him coming home," she breathed, her voice filled with fear.
Bella felt an icy chill race down her spine. "Then we can't let him go alone."
Even before all the words were past her lips, Alice was shaking her head.
"We'll protect him," Bella assured, but Alice still shook her head, now gulping silent tears. "What happens, Alice? What happens to Carlisle?" she insisted as Jasper hurried into the living room to find his distraught wife.
"He doesn't want to live anymore," Alice whispered so low that Bella wasn't even sure she heard her right.
"Shh," Jasper soothed as he took Alice from Bella and wrapped his arms around her. "I'm here, darlin'. Shh..."
Jasper sent out waves of calm to comfort Alice as he pressed kisses to her temple and rocked her against his chest. Even Bella began to feel better as his influence fell over her.
It occurred to her then that when Alice spoke of her fear of losing happiness, she wasn't speaking in general terms. She was speaking about herself.
§∞•••∞§
The airport shuttle car from the Stanfield International Airport was less-than-luxurious even though this particular airport was North America's closest continental link to Europe. The large Ford Cosmos was fashioned after the old Taurus model at the end of the gas-guzzler era. It was blocky and utilitarian, but efficient and had all-wheel drive: a must in this part of the country ten months out of the year. It easily crunched up the driveway to the Cullen's home.
Rosalie, Bella and Emmett watched the car approach and come to a stop several feet from the porch steps. The driver did not get out of the car. The rear passenger door was opened from the inside and pushed out. Stefan exited the car first and studied them before stepping aside to allow Vladimir out.
Despite their immortality, their faces were younger than the youngest Cullens expected. To their eyes, the Romanians barely appeared to be eighteen years old. It wasn't their youthful faces that were disarming, however. It was their skin — thin and translucent like you'd find on an onion, and their eyes, not just red but a strange burgundy. It was Vladimir's odd shaped that confused them the most. A dark voluminous jacket failed at its attempt to hide his odd form. Though he stood upright, it almost looked as if he suffered from scoliosis: one shoulder seemed level, but the other appeared to be tucked down, hidden in the great folds.
The newcomers turned together and looked up at the Cullens gathered on the porch. The two groups continued to quickly scrutinize each other before Carlisle and Edward joined them. As Stefan and Vladimir recognized Carlisle, they nodded.
"Stefan," Carlisle greeted, coming down the short flight of steps toward them. "Vladimir," he added in a subtle questioning tone. What's wrong with him? Carlisle thought, discreetly noticing the unusual fit of his jacket. "It's been a long time."
Both visitors nodded slightly to return the greeting. "Eleazar called us to say you agreed to meet with us willingly," Vladimir began, leaving the implication that the meeting would have happened unwillingly if necessary.
"And we are eager to hear your version of the events leading up to the attack on you and your coven," Stefan picked up where Vladimir had left off.
"Because you need to understand why we are concerned that the boy is now in the hands of the Volturi," Vladimir finished as if they had choreographed the conversation in advance.
Carlisle was quietly surprised by the amount of information the Romanians were giving up so early into their visit. He nodded respectfully and motioned them forward. "Please come in and we can talk."
Edward and Emmett conveniently reached for and framed either side door, knowingly shielding their wives from the visitors but not doing so in a blatant manner.
Carlisle met Edward's eye a moment. Are they serious?
Edward nodded in answer to the silent question: Yes, they were very serious. The only part Edward could not relay to Carlisle was the fact that the Romanians were also afraid.
"Do you mind if the rest of my family joins us?" Carlisle asked out of respect.
Vladimir and Stefan exchanged looks, before Stefan asked, "Did they also interact with the boy?"
Carlisle's brow went up. "Of course. He stayed with us a little over a month. He spent time with everyone."
"Yes, of course, by all means," Stefan answered as they followed Carlisle into the dining room.
"He stayed as long as that?" Vladimir asked. "Willingly?"
"Of course, willingly," Edward answered out of turn.
Both Romanians turned to regard him as the rest of the family joined them around the dining table. Esme went to Carlisle's side, while Jasper and Alice hovered near the hall.
"You were the first to interact with him," Vladimir said, addressing Edward in a way that was and was not a question.
Edward first reaction was to take offense to the statement. "He was my friend," he answered before he fully grasped Vladimir's thoughts. The elder was simply amazed that Rolle had made friends and stayed because he wanted to.
Vladimir turned to his associate. Stefan had the exact same reaction to this, though his was verbal. "Friend?" Together they turned and looked at Edward.
"Despite what you think, Rolle has been a long-time and loyal friend to my family," Carlisle said. Esme slid her hand onto his shoulder at his words. "We have reason to believe that his actions, while extreme, were only meant to protect us."
"How long?" Stefan asked abruptly.
Carlisle looked to Edward to answer. "I first met him in 1962."
"Sixty-two," Vladimir repeated. Only a year after he left us, Edward heard him think.
"You knew him?" Edward questioned immediately startling all the Cullens with this information. "How did you know him?"
"We have known of him since the beginning," Stefan began.
"Many things we thought we knew then have been confirmed," Vladimir added. "More we have learned since then."
"Marcus was the one," Stefan admitted, "but he had no idea what he had made."
Vladimir picked up the volley. "His mate was lost as the boy changed, and Marcus had no interest in him after that."
The Cullens listened to this admission, but did not contribute what they knew of Rolle's past to the elders. It seemed more important at the moment to learn all they could from the Romanians before making a decision about how much to share in return. Carlisle glanced at Alice, then Jasper, and finally Edward, as the elders spoke, looking to each of them to keep him apprised of the meeting and its progress.
Not for the first time, Carlisle wished he had his son's ability to read minds. Alice appeared relaxed, as if she could see that the meeting would end well. Jasper nodded when he felt Carlisle's gaze pass over him. The gesture could have meant anything, but Carlisle chose to interpret this as meaning that the Romanians were being truthful. Knowing that Edward would read this from his mind as well as what Jasper truly meant by nodding, Carlisle knew that Edward would be able to assure him that he was accurately interpreting the others.
Another key indicator, however, was Edward's stance with Bella. It had always been an unconscious action on Edward's part until he heard Carlisle silently considering it. When there was danger or uncertainty in any situation, Edward always placed himself half of a step ahead of Bella, angling himself into any potential line-of-fire.
At the moment, Edward stood side by side with Bella who was listening intently to the story of Rolle's past. Hearing Carlisle's silent scrutiny, Edward slid his arm around her waist to reassure him.
"We have not been able to confirm this, but we believe we were the first of our kind the boy encountered when he ventured from the sea," Stefan was saying.
"He was confused and untrained," Vladimir added.
"You have witnessed his gift?" Stefan asked.
"Yes," Carlisle answered for the family. "Some saw him attack and destroy another vampire, and experienced a noise that made them feel sick. The rest of us saw him attack Emmett," Carlisle gestured to his son, "and create a state similar to unconsciousness."
Vladimir turned to Stefan. "That is new."
"His power grows," Stefan agreed.
"Great," Rosalie muttered.
Stefan gazed at Rose a moment and then said, "You are right to worry." He turned to Carlisle. "This power comes without control."
"Seemed pretty controlled to us," Jasper volunteered.
"What did you see?" Vladimir asked.
Jasper glanced at Carlisle who nodded. Jasper described again what they saw that day: hearing the fight, finding Rolle in hand-to-hand combat with Demetri, but here, Jasper carefully left out his name. He spoke of the noise they heard, how they could see the sound waves in the rain, and the immense discomfort the sound had caused. Vladimir and Stefan only interrupted twice to ask simple questions and Jasper clarified his account of the events.
"Did you know he could do this?" Esme asked, speaking up for the first time.
Stefan turned to meet his brother's eyes, but for the first time since they arrived, Vladimir did not step to the same dance. His ashy blond head was bowed slightly as he considered the table's surface with intense scrutiny.
"We have long searched for a way to defeat our enemy," Vladimir began, "but our patience after so long had begun to chafe. When we found the boy in our land, we thought him nothing more than a newborn and treated him with disdain at his insolence. When he was provoked by our servant, he retaliated with such a power as we had never witnessed before."
"We thought at last we had found our path back to power," Stefan added hesitantly, as if unsure he should speak.
"We took the boy in hoping to learn more about this ability, but as we sought to test him we found he had no control over it."
"Test him?" Esme asked, horrified.
"My God," Edward breathed, reading the memories that boiled to the surface in the elder's minds. "You intentionally had him attack people? Humans?"
"We had to know how his power affected them, yes," Stefan answered as if this were nothing of importance. "The noise the boy generates disrupts the molecular structure of the cells. For mortals, this results in organs simply exploding when they are struck during this phase of his attack. For our kind..."
Alice winced, grasping Jasper's arm. Edward hiss was a sound of anger as he heard Stefan finish the thought in his mind, but the low din lacked the growl of warning.
Stefan's voice faded and he turned to his brother again. Vladimir still regarded the delicate grain of the wooden surface before inhaling sharply and pulling his coat from his shoulders to reveal the hanging cloth around his torso. He grasped the cloth over his chest and pulled up the slack. The left arm was gone. The collar barely held around his neck for the entire shoulder was also missing. When he pulled the material tighter it continued to bunch up until it drew firmly over his body again near his sternum.
"Jesus!" Emmett gasped, as Rosalie's matching gasp was far less lady-like in the form of a curse.
Carlisle had the mask of an emergency room doctor firmly settled on his face. He showed neither surprise nor shock at what he guessed was missing beneath the cloth barrier. "Rolle did this?" he asked in a carefully clinical voice.
Vladimir nodded in silence.
Stefan went to his damaged side. "We needed to know the boy's trigger and how far his control could be pressed."
Unlike Carlisle, Edward had no problem with letting his disgust and shock show on his face as he heard this memory as well. He swallowed hard and pulled Bella into his arms.
"Though this test was our biggest failure, it was also the most enlightening," Stefan said on behalf of his brother.
"We had begun to suspect the boy was influenced by those around him," Vladimir admitted. "If he were surrounded with inebriated mortals, he became involved in bar fights. If he were associating with a child, he expressed child-like wonder and innocence. To test this, we took him to a gulag we use when the occasion warrants such a necessity. He immediately became excitable and anxious. We pressed him to enter."
"How did you survive?" Carlisle asked bluntly. "Why did it only affect part of you?"
"We believe his power was still too unwieldy for the boy," Stefan said as he rested his hand on Vladimir's one remaining shoulder, and then added, "Based on his reaction to his attack on Vladimir, we also believe that he was not aware that he was perpetrating these deaths and injuries."
"He didn't know he could... do what he does?" Esme asked in amazement, even though her tone betrayed her sadness for Rolle's sake.
"We only came to this understanding before he fled the gulag," Stefan answered. "As you can appreciate, this detail was not a priority for us after that."
"You started the rumors," Edward said, his voice low and confused. "You were the ones who called him an assassin."
"That was unfortunate and unintentional," Stefan admitted. "We did not want anyone to know of the boy or his potential. We knew the Italians would not rest until they had added him to their collection."
"This is why we have come," Vladimir said in a firm clear voice. "We needed to confirm our suspicions."
"Suspicions about what?" Carlisle asked.
"You." The answer was delivered as a matter of fact.
Carlisle was stunned. "Me??"
"We know you to be a man of quiet ways," Vladimir said, "and yet you and your coven were attacked. If our findings were correct and his environment and associations influence the boy, then we were wrong about you and you harbored more desire for power than we believed."
"What?" Carlisle exclaimed, gaping at them.
"When the boy is around calming influences, he remains calm. When he is around violent influences, he becomes violent," Vladimir responded staring at Carlisle almost accusing.
Emmett stepped protectively to Carlisle's side, challenging, "And Rolle did that to you?" He indicated the injury Rolle had delivered to the Romanian.
Vladimir slowly shifted his gaze to the large youth. A warning flashed in his burgundy eyes. "The gulag housed the most violent offenders of man. We sought to understand the limits and strengths of the boy's power. Instead, we learned how these outside influences cause him to react."
"The boy sought you out, repeatedly," Stefan added quickly to diffuse the quickly mounting tension, knowing how Vladimir's mood could darken when he felt weak due to his disfigurement. "He stayed, willingly. He could come and go as he pleased, and he returned... as he pleased. Now, after almost sixty years, he attacks. Why?" Stefan asked, directing this last statement to Edward.
"To protect me," Bella said in a clear and level voice.
Both elders turned to look at her, openly skeptical. They had both heard rumors of her and found it hard to believe that a 'shield' such as she, already protected by seven coven members, could possibly need protecting.
"Explain," they said at the same time.
Bella quavered under their combined stares, but she refused to show them how they affected her. She raised her chin and straightened her back, even as her fingers clutched the back of Edward's shirt.
"I remind him of someone he lost, someone he loved," she began.
"He has feelings for you?" Stefan asked.
Edward's unexpected low growl was directed at Vladimir. Questioning eyes of gold flashed to him, some wide with surprise, others furrowed in confusion. The sneer of menace on Edward's face prompted Jasper to send a calming wave to him. Sensing this, and hearing Jasper's cautioning thoughts, Edward threw up a halting hand but never took his eyes from Vladimir.
"What are your intentions?" Edward demanded in a low, tightly controlled voice.
Vladimir returned Edward's hard look with stony resolve, but said nothing.
"Edward?" Carlisle's inquiry went without recognition.
"If you came here seeking answers, you will find us cooperative," Edward warned Vladimir. "If you came here to use us... to use my wife against the Volturi, then I'll finish the damage Rolle started."
The entire family tensed at this news. Alice and Rose sliding closer to Bella's side. Their dark expressions were frightening. Even Esme's normally kind eyes were hard with warning to not mess with her family.
"Rolle doesn't love me!" Bella insisted. "I just remind him of someone he loved, someone he lost."
Vladimir's gaze shifted quickly to hers to look for deceit and, finding none, back to Edward who was still in a threatening posture. "Explain," he clipped.
Bella slid her hand into Edward's before saying, "He found his," she paused, realizing she'd need to use words they would fully understand, "...mate... while he was still human. She was killed and watching her die broke him." She waited for this to sink in, and when Vladimir's implacable expression shifted, and Edward's fingers curled around hers, she continued. "He was changed shortly after. He and Edward know each other. They're friends." She secretly wondered if they would understand something as commonplace as friendship. "When he learned about me and Edward, and our feelings for each other, he swore he would protect me, to protect his friend from ever experiencing that loss."
Stefan's eyes narrowed. "He attacked your coven to protect you?" he asked skeptically.
"He made us think he was attacking us, to fool the Volturi," Bella explained with a nod. She turned her attention to her husband, rubbing a hand over his arm to soothe him.
"Why did the boy need to create such a ruse?" Vladimir asked, and the tension in the room slowly began to drop.
"They sent Marcus," Carlisle said, needing to draw the Romanian's attention away from his daughter. He knew this, alone, should explain Rolle's need to create the performance. If Vladimir and Stefan accepted that Rolle was treated as a friend to the family, then it made sense that a vampire with skills to sense emotional ties would need to be convinced that no such bonds existed.
Stefan and Vladimir gazed openly at each other a moment. It was as if the two elders were sharing a private conversation without the need for words. As Vladimir nodded once, Edward visibly relaxed at whatever he had overheard and pulled Bella into his arms, cuddling her close.
Stefan stood and moved to Carlisle with an open hand. "I will tell you what we know and," the dark-haired vampire added slowly, "what we fear will come to pass."
Carlisle grasped his hand with a nod. "We'd welcome it."
"We have long suspected that, at least for this phase of your existence, you have no desire for power," Stefan said. "Perhaps with your odd ways, you never will. It is because of your lack of ambition that we never worried about the boy being in your presence. He demonstrated no deleterious behavior. All evidence seemed to confirm your calm and quiet dispositions to be a balm to him. It was his demeanor around your coven that convinced us of your true natures, so when he suddenly attacked you..."
"You thought we were suddenly a new threat," Jasper finished.
"The boy draws from the influences around him," Vladimir added by way of agreeing with Jasper's assessment.
"Which is why it is imperative that he be removed from the Volturi's control immediately," Stefan urged, speaking to Carlisle.
Emmett snorted sarcastically. "So they can't use him the way you wanted to?"
Stefan turned a disturbingly desperate expression to Emmett. "No!" he said in earnest, "because he will destroy us all!"
Silence filled the room and hung motionless in the air as the Cullens waited for the rest of this proclamation. When nothing was forthcoming, they hid their response to this obvious over-reaction. Only Jasper remained open to hearing more. He did not think vampires as old as these would be prone to dramatic over-emphasis, and he knew their anxiety ran deep.
"Why do you say that?" he asked quietly.
"The boy is unstable," Vladimir said. "He has minimal control of this power he wields, and that power is..." He hesitated, pulling the lapel of his coat up for emphasis. "Considerable. In the wrong hands, he will become exactly what he has the potential to become."
"What do you mean?" Jasper asked, his
"He'll kill hundreds without even trying," Vladimir said flatly.
"We are not convinced, once begun, that he would be able to stop," Stefan added.
"Why do you think that?" Bella asked.
Neither of the Romanians answered or responded in any way. The utter lack of their silent non-verbal communication, when they had been almost dancing through their conversations, was glaring and obvious.
Edward gasped and stiffened. "They...." He stopped and swallowed, looking up at Carlisle with a face full of shock and pain. "They organized an attack. Twelve vampires, nine newborns." Edward couldn't put words to the terrible things he could see in their minds. He simply shook his head.
"Twenty-one?" Jasper repeated. "By himself?"
Rose's delicate brow was furrowed deep with worry. She was staring at some scene in her mind's eye when she whispered, "How long? How long did it take him to....?"
Edward shook his head again. "With his speed, it would have looked instantaneous."
Silence again fell over the room as the Cullens shared an unspoken conversation simply by meeting each other's eyes. In some ways, the Romanians confirmed many things. In other ways, they added the weight of responsibility to the weight of concern the family was already feeling.
Carlisle was the first to speak. His normal unconscious human reactions were noticeably missing. He did not breathe. He did not rub a worried hand over his head. He did not cross his legs. He merely drew a single breath to form a single question.
"What are you asking us to do?"
Vladimir rose to his feet. "The boy cannot remain with the Volturi. He must be removed from their control or destroyed."
Bella clutched Edward as he moved to lunge forward, throwing her shield out to him, and shouting No to stop and still him from the reaction she knew he was having.
"We need to discuss this as a family," she said smoothly, if a little too loud. Her volume was the only sign of her distress.
Carlisle stood and nodded before turning to the Romanian brothers. "Give us a moment, please. You have the hospitality of our land."
Together, as if they had reformed their physical connection, the brothers nodded together and Stefan picked up Vladimir's coat before they walked out of the room and left the house.
It was quiet again as the family's reaction slowly began to crack from their business-like control. Rose summed up everyone's thoughts with the utmost eloquence by exclaiming,
"What the fuck??"
§∞•••∞§
A/N: As always, my thanks to my previewers: Irishgirl, Milalencar, Songster, and LolaShoes. Thanks to Nikki Pattinson over at Twilighted.
I want to send out a special thanks to LolaShoes for her review of this story for "The Fictionators" blog. You can read it here bit(dot)ly/djpD3T
Stories are like children. They grow and develop. With love and luck, they will grow and develop to their full potential. An author's previewers and betas are like the women in your family who help you raise that child. The women who help me with this story as every bit as invaluable to me as sisters. I can never thank them enough.
Reviews let the author know you are reading this... So I've heard...