Vulcan Twilight: Chapter 07 - Humans and Vampires
Jane sneered distastefully at their human receptionist as she strode past Gianna's desk. She glanced at a well-dressed Heidi who subtlety inclined her head in greeting as she drifted past. The statuesque vampire woman, a perfect example of a wolf in sheep's clothing, lead a crowd of visitors down the corridor, all doomed to become the next Volturi meal.
Today was one of the rare occasions Jane disguised herself and walked brazenly exposed in full daylight among the cacophony of human activity that always clustered around the Piazza dei Priori. After all, the well-preserved ancient buildings in Volterra where the Volturi had resided for over three thousand years was now a celebrated Italian tourist attraction.
Donning the concealing garments of a Muslim girl, Jane ignored the stares of the people around her as she walked along the cobblestone pathways of the Piazza. She enjoyed the notion of hiding in plain sight and she wore the best and most comfortable disguise she had chosen to that effect. Of course, compared to the traditional full-bodied flowing hijab and face niqab worn by an average Muslim girl, her lilac-colored ensemble was made entirely of delicately embroidered silk. The only visible accessories - also decidedly out of place - that made her a fashionable girl by today's standards were a pair of white, diamond-accented Chanel sunglasses with matching Chanel pumps on her stockinged feet.
"Rather reckless of you to walk around unescorted, little sister," Alec said with amusement, falling into step beside her. He wore a professionally fitted wig and a custom face-mask of the highest quality that gave him the appearance of Middle Eastern descent.
"You look hideous," Jane said with distaste and grinned underneath her niqab. Her brother had chosen to wear a casual yet sophisticated ensemble from Michael Bastian's haute couture. "Oh, look, we even have matching eye-wear. What an adorable pair we make," she added sarcastically. "Also, I must admit, you're one of the rare men who wear Chanel well, little brother."
"Thought I'd join you, for once, on one of you excursions," Alec said, ignoring her testy remarks.
"I'm warning you, I will hurl you into the next human tour-group the instant you begin to totally irritate me. I have an important errand to run, so please keep up."
"Is it another treasure hunt for Athenodora? What a marvelous distraction," Alec said, rubbing his hands together excitedly. "I wonder what she wishes us to find?"
When his sister chose not to answer, he began to wonder.
"Or perhaps Caius has finally contrived a way to permanently dismiss Leonius from our ranks?" Alec presumed slyly.
Leonius was a grey-caped Volturi guard who had brazenly defied the Volturi Lord's orders on numerous occasions and it infuriated Caius that Aro constantly defended him. Many of the Volturi were openly aware of the centuries-long animosity between the two of them.
"Where I'm going has nothing to do with treasure hunting or with him," Jane answered curtly, walking briskly past a busload of Japanese tourists, many of whom didn't hesitate to snap her picture. "This is about Gianna."
Alec stopped in his tracks, clearly not expecting his sister's answer. What had that annoying human hornet blackmailed Lord Aro with this time? It galled him to think that a lowly walking blood-bag was clever enough to keep Lord Aro disinterested in killing her.
"I'll fill you in as we move along, Alec, so keep pace with me," Jane said irritably.
A silver Rolls Royce waited for the pair at the edge of the Piazza which the two promptly entered, their chauffeur already aware of their intended destination.
Seated comfortably inside the vehicle, Jane thought it was rather hypocritical of them to employ a network of humans for their day to day dealings with the outside world. It was a necessary 'inconvenience' as Lord Aro had labeled it and a modern adjustment the Volturi simply had to endure for the sake of 'efficiency.'
"I'm investigating a possible angle using Sigrun's research on how to discredit the existence of Gianna's supposed vampire journals," Jane explained to her brother after sliding shut the glass divider that separated them from their driver inside the vehicle's luxurious interior. "If this succeeds, it will give us the leverage we need to be rid of that human's hold over Lord Aro. Then her screams of agony shall serenade us before I crush her skull beneath my foot."
Jane's twin brother sat in contemplative silence for the remainder of the trip as their silver Rolls Royce sped away, cleverly navigating past the hubbub of the crowded Piazza dei Priori. Half an hour away, a Gulfstream G650 awaited the twin siblings on a private airstrip, prepped and ready for their departure to the city of Milano.
Three years before Gianna's employment as receptionist to the Volturi Empire...
Inside the opulent master bedroom of a modest 20 room mansion and comfortably tucked underneath brocaded sheets on a massive Redwood king-sized bed was an elderly man, his life inevitably fading.
A young woman, roughly twenty-one years of age, sat sobbing by her grandfather's deathbed watching the frailty of old age run its course, his withered body weakening with each passing hour. Of her entire family, only her father's father, Gianmarco, ever truly understood her and she was soon about to lose him forever. Beneath all the trappings of status, beauty and wealth, Gianna was just a frightened little girl with absolutely no ambition to further her family's influence; but as the sole heiress to the Valli family fortune, the unwelcome responsibility was soon to rest squarely upon her shoulders.
"There is nothing to fear, mia nipotina adorato," her grandfather rasped softly.
Gianna quickly stood up, dragging her chair and placing herself closer, as she tried everything in her power to desperately save what little strength her grandfather had left. She prayed fervently by his side, selfishly wishing for him to stay with her for as long as his condition would allow him.
"What will I do without you, nonno?" Gianna lamented. "I cannot defend myself from the vultures that are sure to descend once they learn of your death. Nobody respects me the way they do you."
"Hush, now. Stop this nonsense. I did not raise you to cower in a corner like a mouse! You must rise above your fears, nipotina mia, and prevail as all the great heads of this family have done for centuries," Gianmarco said commandingly. He firmly held one of his granddaughter's trembling hands. "Listen carefully to what I have to say, mia tesoruccio nipotina, for the shadow of death is now upon me." He gripped his granddaughter's hand tightly, much stronger than expected for someone in his weakened condition. "Of all our dealings throughout Italy, there is only one man you can trust. Seek him out and he will help you past the ordeal of your transition as the new head of the Valli family."
Fumbling under the neckline of his linen pajama top, Gianmarco pulled free a gold chain from around his neck where a thumb-sized gilded key hung loosely from it.
"This is your salvation, nipotina mia," Gianmarco rasped with great strain as he placed the golden key in his granddaughter's palm, tightly encasing it with her own fingers. "The key unlocks this family's greatest treasure. Now, promise me this. Study the contents of the chest you find before you contact the name engraved upon the key. Your life depends on it. Promise me!"
The ferocity in her grandfather's eyes prompted Gianna's immediate answer.
"Good, good," Gianmarco said with a smile, patting his granddaughter's hands and gently wiping away the tears that flowed down her cheeks. "Now, I must leave you, mia nipotina adorato," he whispered, a final twinkle in his sad eyes.
The steady rise and fall of his chest then stopped, his head lolling to one side like a lead weight, his skin pale, cold and lifeless.
"Nonno...mi senti?" Gianna whispered softly, the tide of her tears distorting her vision. "Grandfather!"
Gianna Allegra Valli wailed out her remorse. Tightly clutching the golden key in her palm, she called to her grandfather repeatedly, well into the night.
o - o - o
A small pendant-key dangled loosely from a golden chain around Gianna's neck, concealed under her clothing, momentarily forgotten. The emotional turmoil of her bereavement in the days of her grandfather's funeral overshadowed everything. Faces she hadn't seen in years, familiar and unfamiliar, converged from all over Italy to pay their respects.
An exclusive reception was held at the Santa Maria delle Grazie church where there was an open casket viewing of Gianmarco Valli's lifeless body. He laid peacefully inside a black, perfectly polished coffin, the lid inscribed with the Valli family crest. Gianmarco was dressed in his finest suit, his body pillowed by the plush, golden satin interior, his face looking ten years younger and his fingers adorned with his favorite rings, some of which had precious stones the size of an American quarter.
One was easily mislead into believing that Gianmarco Valli was the Italian president seeing the magnitude and sheer lavishness of his funeral. Thousands of white roses decorated the interior of the basilica, a stark contrast against the continuous flow of mourners dressed in black that circulated his coffin. The church chosen in Milano for his visitation, the Santa Maria delle Grazie, was an international historical tourist attraction that sheltered Leonardo da Vinci's mural 'The Last Supper.' For this occasion, the basilica was unprecedentedly closed off from the general public for an entire week, the Valli family fortune easily covering the loss of revenue for the local officials.
Mechanically, Gianna greeted the visiting mourners that ranged from dignitaries, celebrities, local and foreign executives, to many international acquaintances. Her saccharine smile masked the contempt she felt toward those among the mourners she labeled 'vultures.' Greedy business associates and fragmented pockets of estranged relatives hovered nearby, hoping to lay claim to enormous portions of the Valli fortune. Disgusted, she secretly wished to scream her outrage at particular individuals present but held her tongue knowing that her grandfather would disapprove of such undignified behavior.
Just when Gianna thought that she needed to physically excuse herself from the church to clear her head, her eyes caught sight of someone who looked very much out of place in the sea of mourners. It was a young man in his early twenties with pale, iridescent skin and a thick mop of medium-length, mahogany hair that was neatly combed back. Fitted to his body was a well-tailored, dark grey suit and the young man moved with the eerie grace of a fictional aristocratic gentleman straight from a literary novel.
For Gianna, it seemed that time stood still.
Her eyes followed the young man as he casually walked up to her grandfather's casket and laid a single white rose on his chest, it's stem adorned with a black, silken ribbon. Strangest of all was that every time she tried to focus on his features to try to identify him, she couldn't. Speechless, she watched as the young man slipped away silently into the crowd like a passing shadow.
Gianna was so mesmerized by the vision, she was unaware that she stood gawking at nothing. Worried, her aids prodded her, freeing her from whatever spell that held her. Confused, she questioned her small entourage about what she saw...and was shocked to discover that she had been the only witness to the young man's appearance! Wisely, she dropped any further questions about the incident, pushing the image of the young man to the back of her mind.
The funeral service was lengthy and an impassioned sermon was delivered by a well-known Cardinal straight from the Vatican. The entire funeral had been prearranged in her grandfather's will and she wondered about the possible surprises in store for her on the day of the fundamental document's formal reading.
Surrounded by her aids and bodyguards, Gianna gazed upon her grandfather's face for the last time as the casket's lid slid shut. In slow procession, devout mourners followed eight, strong pallbearers that bore her grandfather's coffin into a black Bentley hearse idling at the entrance to the church, a multitude of expensive cars already falling in line behind it.
o - o - o
Months after her grandfather's funeral, Gianna had the unpleasant task of enduring the tidal wave of greedy claims to the Valli family fortune, despite her being named the sole heiress. Channeling her grandfather for spiritual strength, she bravely weathered the storm but at great personal cost. Left emotionally devastated, she retreated into the Valli mansion and became a recluse in her own home.
Nearly a week into her self-imposed exile, two stubborn men stood anxiously outside the mansion's master bedroom.
"How is she?" Dr. Orel Meier asked young Head Butler, Marcel Vasser, only son of a trusted manservant of the Valli family who was a close confidant of the recently deceased Gianmarco Valli. "Has she eaten anything?"
"Very little and she refuses to leave her room," Marcel answered in his cultured British accent.
Sighing, Dr. Meier cursed softly in German, cleaning the lenses of his round glasses with his handkerchief out of nervous habit. "That girl will be the death of me." Clearing his throat, he knocked on the solid oak door of the master bedroom. "Gianna? Bitte, open the door?"
The metal latch sealing the door shut was unlocked from the inside with a loud clack and Dr. Meier entered swiftly, the heavy oak door closing behind him automatically.
"Gianna, it's been over three days since you've eaten properly. I know you miss your grandfather. We all do, but letting your health slide is not the best way to honor his memory."
"Es geht," Gianna said softly in perfect German. "You don't have to worry about me, Orel. I just need a little more time alone."
"Fine. You may stay in this room for as long as you wish, but only under one condition."
"Yes?" Gianna said impatiently.
"Failure to comply with this simple request will force me to take drastic action," Dr. Meier added firmly, but kindly.
Smiling slightly, Gianna looked at the middle-aged doctor with raised eyebrows.
"This condition being?"
"Marcel's waiting outside with a cart-load of your favorite foods. It would please me greatly if you'd, at least, eat some of it?"
After a few tense moments of silent deliberation, Gianna faced the large bay window in her room, looking out at the mansion's carefully manicured French gardens.
"Send him in," she replied softly, without turning around.
"Danke, mein Leibes," Dr. Meier said in relief.
True to her words, Gianna sampled everything on the food cart Marcel had wheeled into her room. She was surprisingly hungrier than she felt, her body forcing her to seek nourishment after days of self-deprivation. Dr. Meier had stayed a short while, watching her eat the first few mouthfuls and leaving once he was satisfied with her actions.
Alone with her thoughts, Gianna's eyes filled with tears the moment memories of her grandfather drifted through her mind. Her right hand subconsciously played with the golden pendant-key that hung from a gold chain woven like a cord around her neck.
Removing the necklace, she examined the pendant closely in the natural sunlight that shone past the tall, clear glass panes of her third-story bay window. It became a ritual of sorts; the pendant-key was a focal point for her remorse. Curling herself against large, soft pillows on a custom-built daybed below the bay window, Gianna held the thumb-sized gold key near her eyes, admiring the incredible detail of its craftsmanship. The longer she stared, the more she noticed that the numerous swirls and filigree carved into the pendant were far more intricate than she realized.
Perhaps it was the prolonged hunger that allowed her to see things that weren't there? Whatever the factors, it prompted her to recall something very important from her past.
As her eyes unfocused, a half-remembered scene from her childhood manifested itself...
Her grandfather stood beside her father's casket with tears in his eyes. After he had whispered his goodbyes, his hands reached into the coffin and pulled out a golden necklace with a pendant in the shape of a key...
She sat bolt upright and an unsettling chill travelled down her spine. Clutching the pendant tightly, she stood from her comfortable daybed and began pacing in broad strides.
The master bedroom had an adjoining private library which she then stormed into, sprinting to the darkest shelf that held an archive of leather-bound albums filled with family photographs spanning ten generations.
Pulling out the oldest, most weathered volume, Gianna flipped frantically through its pages, stopping to carefully examine every depicted portrait of the Valli family from that era.
When she found was she was searching for, she slammed the album shut.
Her azure eyes held a dark, determined glint as she quickly stripped off her clothing and headed straight for the large room's marble en suite bathroom, a multitude of questions flooding her mind. Questions that she had the resources to answer.
It was time that she stopped wallowing in grief and began honoring the promise she had made to her grandfather.
The following morning, the other servants saw Marcel's open surprise when the suddenly vibrant voice of the Valli family's newest heiress commanded that he made the necessary preparations for her immediate trip to Switzerland.
Once there, Gianna would consult the expertise of a man her grandfather frequently sought out to craft his entire personal collection of watches and jewelry. Perhaps the jeweler had some knowledge of the origins of her strange pendant.
On route to a private airport, Gianna's cellphone chimed Vivaldi.
"Pronto," Gianna answered curtly in her native Italian.
"Ich bin's," was the soft reply.
It was the voice of Dr. Orel Meier, exclusive physician to the Valli family and a good friend. She took a deep breath, switching the encrypted call to her other ear.
"I haven't gone crazy," Gianna said with a smile.
A gruff male voice asked rather worriedly, "What's in Switzerland?"
"I don't need your permission. I go where I wish."
"Is Marcel with you?"
"Isn't he always?" she said, briefly glancing at her chauffeur's handsome face reflected on the limo's rear view mirror through the retracting interior bulletproof window. She rode in the reinforced rear cab of a specially designed Maybach 62 S Zeppelin - a final gift from her late grandfather. Knowing her birthright, he spared no expense for her safety. "Don't tell me the vultures are descending again?"
"It may be inevitable," Dr. Meier replied. "How long will you be away?"
"As long as it takes for me to solve a mystery," she answered, then paused. "I made a promise to my grandfather, Orel, and I can't stop until I've fulfilled it."
"I see."
She then added softly, "You'll have to look after things till I return."
"I understand," Dr. Meier conceded reluctantly. "Gianna?"
"Yes?"
"Be careful...and come back soon."
"I will," she replied and ended the call.
o - o - o
Amid Switzerland's most expensive international brand names of clothing, jewelry and accessories, and tucked within the decadent shopping paradise of Bahnhofstrasse in Zurich, was a modest little store owned by a well-respected local artisan family.
The shop itself was a humble contrast to the flamboyantly modern architecture of the surrounding area, and visiting tourists as well as locals, constantly puzzled over the continued success and perseverance of the tiny establishment. The current proprietor, Halli Von Hottiger, was the eldest son in twelve generations of a long line of distinguished jewelers, all proudly following their family's unique tradition of creating the most intricately complicated jewelry sculptures ever done by hand. The shop's exclusive clientele boasted even the loyal patronage of eminent royal families, reclusive multibillionaires and eccentric collectors from all around the world. Adding to the shop's mystique was its nameless storefront where an abstract symbol - a circle with an esoteric representation of a V and an H were depicted - was boldly and prominently displayed, rumored to have been carved from a single solid brass block.
As proof to new customers or curious onlookers of the shop's prestigious work, Halli himself would sit by the front window, patiently carving away on commissioned projects.
That was how Gianna found the man when she walked into the shop. Dressed from head to toe in Prada clothing and Hermés accessories, her manservant and personal bodyguard at her side, Gianna came to a stop near a glass barrier. Hunched over his work and with his back in her direction, the man she'd flown over to see so urgently was blissfully unaware of her arrival.
When clearing her throat politely hadn't worked, Gianna resorted to tapping on the glass which she instantly regretted.
Cursing loudly in German and bodily jerking from his hunched position, the man who she thought was Halli angrily yelled out.
"What the hell? Are you illiterate? Do Not Disturb! Can't you see I'm doing delicate work here?" bellowed a young man in English with an American accent as he turned around to glare at her.
"Forgive me, I-I thought you were Halli," Gianna said apologetically.
"Oh!" the young man said awkwardly, having just realized that he'd chewed out a potential female customer. "Uh...Halli's not here at the moment...he had to deliver something personally to one of his clients. I-I'm sincerely sorry for yelling at you. I wasn't expecting anyone to come into the shop till three." He then extended his right hand and introduced himself in perfect Italian. "Il mio nome è Leo. IO sono un apprendista qui per l estate." [My name's Leo. I'm apprenticing here for the summer.]
Startled by the young man's flawless transition to her native language, Gianna hesitantly shook his hand. "Sono lieto di incontrarvi, Leo," she answered back pleasantly. [Pleased to meet you, Leo.] Tilting her head quizzically to the side, she added in English, "You speak excellent Italian."
"I majored in Linguistics at Cambridge but my passion's making jewelry," Leo grinned. "So, here I am."
Gianna exchanged an amused glance with her bodyguard, Marcel. "How long before Halli returns?"
"Not until later tonight, I'm afraid," Leo replied. "He's been away all day on business in Vaduz. I've been watching the shop till he gets back. I can text him if it's urgent, Miss...?"
"No need. I can come back tomorrow," Gianna answered and promptly exited the shop with her companion.
Scratching his head, Leo watched the strange but attractive woman walk away for a long moment before returning to his work.
"What now?" Marcel asked as they strolled outside in the busy Bahnhofstrasse shopping district.
"Oh, I'm sure we can find something to do to pass the time," Gianna said mischievously.
The following day, Gianna returned with Marcel to the little jewelry shop, her body clothed in a tastefully stylish formfitting dress with Louis Vuitton accents.
"So much like your father," Halli reprimanded with a tsk, shaking his head. "What is so urgent that you choose to forego a simple courtesy call?"
"Hello, Halli," Gianna smiled brightly and they embraced warmly. "How have you been?"
"I've been good," Halli replied and his face went somber for a moment. He was part of a selected group of the late Gianmarco Valli's close friends and family who were given a private viewing of his body at the funeral. "I shall miss your grandfather. He was quite a man."
"I will miss him very much," Gianna said sadly, tears flooding her eyes.
"Come, let us retire to the back for some tea."
As Marcel stood attentively to the side, Gianna and her grandfather's favorite jeweler spoke of memorable moments. As she listened to Halli's spirited storytelling, it amazed her how scarcely the man had aged since she'd first seen him as a child...and it dawned on her that the Von Hottiger establishment itself felt eerily unchanged! If it hadn't been for her unexpected meeting with the American apprentice yesterday -
"Gianna, my dear, are you all right?" Halli asked with concern.
"I'm sorry," Gianna answered, then blushed in embarrassment. "It seems my mind had wandered."
"No worries, you have much on your mind," Halli said, his eyes drifting to the golden cord around her neck. "I believe you came to see me about that pendant you keep hidden?"
Her hand reflexively touched the pendant-key that left a telltale bump from under her clothing.
"What can you tell me about this pendant?" she asked resolutely.
"It unlocks the Valli family's greatest treasure," Halli explained plainly, "a precious heirloom that has been safeguarded by the Valli family since it was acquired in the fifteen-hundreds."
"If this heirloom is so important, why have I not heard of its existence before Grandfather's death?" she asked in confusion.
"It is a delicate matter," Halli said. "I think it's best that I show you."
Intrigued, Gianna followed the old jeweler as he led them through the cozy living space behind the shop's storefront and into another room. The anteroom was small and empty but featured an impeccably polished pair of dark-stained double-doors that were richly inlaid with bronze. Her eyes were drawn to the keyhole below the door's large latches, and she remembered trying to peek through it as a child to see what was on the other side. Today, her curiosity would be completely satisfied and she felt a bit apprehensive when Halli inserted a thick, bronze key and turned it to the right with a resounding click.
"As the current matriarch of the Valli Family, only you may enter, Gianna. Marcel and I cannot cross the threshold of this room," Halli instructed gruffly. When he saw the young man's protective glare, he added, "Have no fear, Marcel. No harm will befall her, but if it sets you at ease, I can leave the doors open."
When the double-doors were parted, Gianna gasped softly when they were greeted by the total absence of light. Even the ambient brightness around them failed to illuminate the room beyond the doorframe. Despite Halli's reassurance, the unnatural darkness that shrouded the strange room made her shudder and she wondered what imagined horrors lay within the inky pitch.
Smiling courageously, Gianna turned to her friend and bodyguard. "Don't worry, Marcel, I'll be fine." She turned to address Halli. "What must I do?"
"Enter the room and you will know," the old man said cryptically.
Cursing softly to herself, Gianna took a deep breath and stepped into the eerie blackness.
She felt nothing but the rapid beating of her heart and the slow, shallow breaths from her lungs. She trembled with barely suppressed anxiety as she took measured strides forward, her feet gratefully stepping on a smooth, solid surface. She had no frame of reference for which direction she should be headed since there was no improvement to the inky darkness that enveloped her. Resisting the urge to turn around, she continued nervously on what she hoped was a straight path.
It's like I stepped off the edge of the world, Gianna thought to herself.
After long moments of walking that felt like an eternity, her eyes caught the faintest amount of what seemed like candlelight a few feet away.
Just how large was this room?
Her pace quickened as Gianna allowed herself to be drawn to the light like a moth.
The only source of light came from a solitary black candle that was fused securely to a stone table by numerous veins of melted wax. Apart from the table, Gianna could see nothing else but the inky darkness.
Was the place cursed? Though Halli had stated that no harm would come to her, Gianna's apprehension mounted. The disconcerting freakishness of her surroundings were impossible to ignore.
Clutching the pendant-key between her fingers as if she were drawing strength from it, Gianna approached a small, red chest that was perfectly centered on top of the stone table. Her first impulse was to immediately use the pendant-key to see if it fit the small chest's lock, but a gut feeling compelled her to be patient.
Cautiously, she reached out to touch the small, red chest and her fingers recoiled when her skin felt the chill temperature of a winter frost.
The small chest was ice cold! How was that possible? The room she stood in felt no cooler than 19 degrees Celsius. (66.2 degrees Fahrenheit) The mounting strangeness of her surroundings mercilessly threatened to unravel her composure.
Was this place some kind of...test? Gianna wondered. The idea itself seemed somewhat ridiculous since outlandish situations like these only happened in movies!
Removing the necklace from around her neck, Gianna placed the pendant-key on the stone table. Reaching out with her hands, she lifted the red chest - which felt no heavier than a large encyclopedia - and placed it closer to her so she could examine it.
The wooden chest's finish was exceptionally smooth. It was polished to an almost glassy shine which gave its red color a magnificent vibrancy. The longer she stared at the vivid red, the more it seemed to evoke the fire of life itself...and the closest representation of the flaming hue that Gianna was reminded of was…
Blood, she thought to herself.
A skilled craftsman had decided to devote himself to the painstaking task of creating the richest, the most lifelike red she had ever seen.
Taking the pendant-key, Gianna felt that it was now time to open the chest.
o - o - o
"She's been in there a long time," Marcel said in protest, his voice heavy with worry. He stared in the direction of the small anteroom from the cozy living space sequestered behind the shop's storefront. Hanni's apprentice, Leo, had arrived for his duty shift and took care of the shop while they attended to more personal matters.
"Gianna's perfectly safe and healthy, I can assure you of that," the old jeweler said with a chuckle. He sat reading a thick book on a soft, leather couch. A silver tea service was within easy reach in front of him on a low table. Reaching over, he prepared a cup for the agitated young man that stood nearby. "Marcel. I insist that you sit down and have a drink."
"I think I'll be needing something stronger than tea," Marcel replied.
"Nonsense," Halli said and pointed to a recliner. "Sit."
Sighing audibly, Marcel sat down impudently and made exaggerated motions to drink his tea. He took a good, long, noisy sip, put down the cup and saucer, and sat back with a comical 'Ahhh,' all the while locking eyes with his amused host. "Happy?"
"I'm not the one distraught over nothing," Halli said, returning to reading his book. "Help yourself to a good book, watch a movie or play games on that fancy phone you carry, whatever you do, I want you to relax."
Turning his head in the direction of the small anteroom, Marcel squinted, willing his eyes to magically pierce through the wall of darkness that Gianna had bravely stepped into. Whatever was happening in that foreboding black room, he could only hope that she had found the answers she sought.
o - o - o
Wincing, Gianna carefully stretched her sore, stiff limbs. Her bare feet were numb from standing too long on a cold, stone floor. At some point, she had removed her shoes and shoved them aside while she read.
The beautiful handwritten calligraphy of the journal's mysterious author was almost hypnotic. The detailed descriptions in every paragraph were comprehensive and compelling. She couldn't stop reading until the journal's very last page...and it was only the first volume!
Not the first volume of the series, but a first in a selected sequence.
The five 8 x 10 inch handwritten journals were placed side by side on the stone table, each stamped with roman numerals, and at the back, there was a golden crest she was unfamiliar with. The journal Gianna had just finished reading had the roman numbers, DXV (515). The journals were numbered from DXV to DXX. (515 - 520)
What fascinated her the most about the journals was the written information. It gave her a revelation so profound, her mind still reeled from the knowledge.
Gathering up the journals, she stacked them neatly into the red chest and secured the lock. With the necklace again around her neck and the pendant-key tucked safely under her clothing, she lifted the red chest and took it with her.
Unlike before, she now knew instinctively where to go despite the inky darkness that surrounded her. Feeling more elated than afraid, Gianna emerged from the dark room with a new purpose...and a new obsession.
Present day, somewhere in the city of Milano, Italy…
Jane and Alec ascended the twisting marble stairwell of a private residence located in a rather questionable neighborhood. The building's interior was surprisingly lavish in comparison to its exterior; the outside walls blending harmoniously with the dilapidated area.
The vampire twins were here to meet a scholar from a secretive sect that Sigrun had contacted, a brave (or foolish) man who was willing to provide evidence that Gianna's journals were an elaborate forgery. Jane was more than eager to listen to what the human had to say, and if she was satisfied by the man's information, she would drag the protesting meat-sack to Lord Aro for a private meeting.
"Must we knock?" Alec said derisively and frowned. He wanted to simply kick down the door. Humans were nothing more than food to him.
"We're not barbarians, Brother," Jane admonished and knocked on the thick, wooden door. "Professor Middleton? We're here on behalf of Sigrun regarding something important you'd like to show us?" Beside her, Alec rolled his eyes, disgusted that she was wasting time on insignificant human pleasantries.
Another series of louder knocks still yielded no result. Was the Professor away?
"So much for courtesy," Jane said with a frown.
Using her right hand, she effortlessly punched through the thick wooden door, ripping away its entire locking mechanism, the shattered metal pieces falling to the hallway in sharp thunks.
The moment Jane and Alec entered the room, they grimaced and gagged when their acute vampire senses were assailed by the necrotic smell of rotting flesh. When they whisked to investigate, to their surprise, they found that Sigrun's contact had been murdered days before, the man's suite, ransacked.
With her fists clenched tightly at her sides, Jane screamed in anger and frustration.
At that precise moment, Gianna Valli sat behind her desk within the Volturi compound of Volterra as she attended to her calendar of tasks for the day. Casually glancing at her Tiffany & Co. Patek Phillippe watch, her bright red lips smirked ever so slightly.
Carlisle was at a loss. His centuries of accumulated medical knowledge and study were useless. He simply had no basis or precedent for treating an injured alien.
"Edward, I'm sorry...but there isn't much more I can do for him," he said sadly.
Spock's body was slowly shutting down.
"No!" Alice said desperately, looking heartbroken. "He mustn't die. He can't! There must be something we can do. Anything!" She stared desperately at Edward.
"There might be a way," he said softy, gazing determinedly at the unconscious Spock.
"No," Carlisle said firmly, predicting exactly what his eldest would attempt. "There's no way to know what will happen. He's dying, Edward. If you enter his thoughts now, he might take your mind with him!"
"I'm the only hope he has left," he argued. "I am not gonna watch him die!"
A grim hush enveloped the room.
"Jasper, for this to work, I'm going to need your help," Edward begged. "You'll be my anchor to the outside world in case I begin to lose myself."
"Too late, Brother, you've already lost it," Emmett mumbled, but not unkindly. He and Rosalie now felt a great measure of guilt for their rude behavior toward their alien guest. "Go fetch him, and good luck."
"Be careful," Esme said with a gentle smile and kissed Edward on the cheek. She then gazed at Spock who laid unconscious and frightfully pale on their living room couch. Bending down, she planted a gentle kiss on the alien's forehead and whispered, "Please, come back to us."
Without delay, Edward crouched down beside the couch and took a deep, unnecessary breath. He gripped the alien's wrist with his left hand and with his right, planted his fingers clumsily along invisible points on one side of Spock's face and concentrated.
((Spock! Don't you DARE give up like this! Cosmic accident or not - you're not a quitter, are you? Isn't knowledge your entire Vulcan way of life? Aren't you the least bit curious how this bizarre new chapter of your life plays out? Wake up! SPOCK! Do you hear me?))
With great apprehension, Carlisle watched as his firstborn vampire son tried to communicate with the alien using his unique psychic gift. With no way of knowing the true outcome of the dangerous gamble, he could only hope that it didn't result in reducing Edward to a mindless husk.
Beside his eldest son knelt Jasper, the 'youngest' and newest addition to their family who arrived with his enigmatic mate, Alice. His face was grimaced in deep concentration, his left hand firmly attached to Edward's wrist. Though physical contact wasn't a requirement for his special talents, Carlisle guessed that the action was requested.
Leaning against the couch's armrest above Spock's head knelt Alice, her chin on her forearms, her eyes shut. Whether she mimicked Edward's or Jasper's current state, Carlisle was unsure, but he had observed that she'd grown fiercely attached to their alien guest the moment he arrived. Had she seen a vision of the future concerning Spock?
"If there's one person who can help him, it's Edward," Esme said softly as she stood closely by her mate who then embraced her from behind for comfort. She smiled when Carlisle nuzzled her neck and she reached up with her hand to caress the side of his face.
"I certainly hope so…" he whispered worriedly as he clung to Esme, his voice dismal.
The rest of the Cullen family waited patiently as they solemnly kept vigil over the silent battle of wills that took place before them. Spock's heartbeat had slowed considerably, returning to an interval almost similar to when he was comatose, except that this time, his body wasn't trying to heal itself.
"I don't understand it," Esme spoke softy, "I thought Spock was recovering from his injuries, better than you thought possible."
"It seems I was wrong," Carlisle replied sadly. "He may have internal injuries far greater than he's leading us to believe. To truly help him, I need to know more about his alien physiology. " He paused, looking reflective. "Although, I think Spock's injuries are aggravated by other factors. He told us so himself: everything and everyone he's ever known...gone in the blink of an eye...but the worst part is...he's lost hope."
"Don't worry, Edward will reach him," Alice said confidently. "He has to."
"You saw something, didn't you?" Rosalie's statement sounded like an accusation. "You've been obsessed with that alien the minute you saw him!"
"What I saw was incomplete," Alice answered, irritated.
To which a frustrated Rosalie replied testily, "Mind sharing whatever precious thing you saw with the rest of us?"
"If Spock dies, the vision dies with him," Alice stated flatly.
"Being optimistic isn't enough," Rosalie pointed out as Alice glared at her. "Let's face it, how do you save someone who wants do die?"
"Give the guy a reason to live?" Emmett said offhandedly with a grin. In his mind, they were currently taking part in a primetime Science Fiction drama that his warped sense of humor found hilarious.
"Yes, that it!" Alice said excitedly with a squeal. Leaping to her feet in a blur, she gave her big, brawny brother a peck on the cheek. "Em, you're a genius!"
"I am?" Emmett said in confusion.
They watched as Alice darted to Edward's side and she bent near him as if to whisper something into his ear, then remained frozen in that position.
Spock's skin was still deathly pale and the rest of the Cullen family wondered if Edward had made any sort of progress averting the alien's deteriorating condition.
"His heart-rate's still slow...but at least it hasn't stopped," Carlisle reported, grateful that his sensitive hearing detected no change...at least for the moment.
In all the collective memories of each Cullen family member, not one of them could recall any incidents in their lives that remotely compared to the magnitude of what was presently happening. Not only were they staring at bonafide proof of the existence of extraterrestrial life...they were forced to watch as that life slowly slipped away.
When Edward, Alice and Jasper suddenly broke free from the alien, the trio collapsed to the floor like rag dolls. The rest of the Cullens rushed their sides and feared the worst when no one responded to being vigorously shaken.
"Easy, Big Brother," Jasper protested as he sluggishly woke. His arms felt the unmistakable pressure of Emmett's crushing grip. "Alice?"
"Here…" she replied, feeling groggy. Her body felt like it was drained of energy and she clung to Jasper as they were helped to their feet.
"Ooohhh, that really doesn't get any easier," Edward groused as he sat up, leaning weakly against the couch. He turned his head to regard the unconscious alien and said simply, "He's going to live."
to be continued
Correspondence:
09sasha - Thank you very much! I'm glad you're enjoying the story so far and please try to forgive the (nasty) very long updates...
emalico - Your pleas have been heard! I labored to get this latest installment out. Hope ya like it. ^_^
Rokkis - I'm tickled pink too knowing that you're enjoying this crazy fic. LOL.
Jisa - Sorry for the long update time but I haven't given up on this story, so I hope you hand in there. ;D
minijo1990 - Not everyone's sold on the Twilight films. I basically watch them for fun and use it strictly for inspiration. Nothing like visuals to spur me onward. LOL. 'Grumpy lady' or not, we were all young once, so we know how young love feels. I think it's part of the appeal to such a broad audience. (teens can relate, older fans try to recapture the moment)
Sweetie7smiled - Many Thanks! I find it just as fascinating! xD
Lady SiriusCrowBlack - Spock isn't too happy with me right now, since I stranded the poor guy in totally unknown territory. LOL
mykardia - It was inevitable that Edward latched onto Spock, since the unwilling alien's the most interesting phenomenon in all his 150 year existence.
Kanashii Kopper - Such kind flattery - I thank you most deeply! On the subject of developing my writing as a serious author, for now, in all sincerity, what I'm doing is pure escapist entertainment. ^_^ But rest assured, I will continue my endeavor of translating the crazy visuals I have in my head via keyboard for my readers to enjoy. (I am grateful for your vigilance, as well, of keeping on top of the little things I may have missed.)
Drusilla Braun - My sincerest wish to to see this story through to a satisfying end. Your support is deeply appreciated.
TheBestDamnThing96 - I bow to your awesome kudos and support (Sara & Lexie) - you're both too kind! I love both the Twilight and Star Trek universes and this humble author shall do her best to put her ideas to paper.
TheTrekkieGirl - Hehehe. Great minds think alike. Besides, by combining two fandoms into one story, you're giving readers a 'two-for-one' extravaganza. xD
Caroline - I'm so touched by your compliments, thank you! Sending me all your positive energy keeps my muse ablaze with inspiration, resulting in shorter update times! :D
Author's Note:
Please forgive my poorly translated Italian and German. ^_^
The city of Vaduz is in the tiny country of Liechtenstein.
Bahnhofstrasse in Zurich, Switzerland is one of the most expensive shopping districts for luxury items and brand names. A definite playground for the rich and famous.
Feel free to read my short one-shot fic 'From Within These Walls' starring selected members of the Voluri. It supplements some of what's happening in this chapter.
My Original Characters:
Gianna's grandfather, Gianmarco Valli, is played by actor Armin Mueller-Stahl from the movie 'Angels and Demons', who was in the role of Cardinal Strauss. (He was the first person who came to mind!)
Dr. Orel Meier, Valli family doctor, is played by Christoph Waltz who was the villainous Col. Hans Landa in 'Inglorious Basterds' and a tragic hero of sorts in Django. (Quite a change of pace for him. LOL.)
Young Head Butler to the Valli family household, Marcel, who's role is filled by the lovely faced Kevin Zegers. (Hey, I like my man-candy.)
Sigrun is a Viking-born vampire who is fiercely loyal to Athenodora. She is jealous and irritated by Sulpicia's status and presence. Allies herself to whoever piques her interest.
***I'd like to extend a very special Thank You to *the chatteringmagpie* who gave me the encouraging nudge I desperately needed!***
...and to everyone who left me notes: Thank you for your support! Love you all!
(=^_^=)