Chapter Twelve

Jane sat on the balcony of the main room. (She didn't know what else to call it, seeing as it most definitely was not a family room. She didn't know if it could be considered a living room, seeing as none of the Volturi were technically alive.) She knew from the human's shivers that the room was cold, but she couldn't tell. No temperature could penetrate her marble skin.

Or maybe the humans could sense the thirst for blood. There really was no way of telling. Jane never talked to them; her aunt had taught her to never play with her food.

Once Caius had locked the doors behind him, all the "statues" in the room came alive. Their eyes opened, and the humans screamed when they saw the eerie red glow. Jane jumped from the balcony as all the other members of the Volturi jumped out of hidden corners, and she ran straight for a middle-aged man with a receding hairline. She didn't like getting rid of the young children, and Marcus was lazy, so he went after the elderly. She couldn't understand why; their blood was as old as they are, and not as delectable as the blood as the fat ones. The fat blood is always sweeter.

Next she grabbed a young girl, probably only fifteen. Jane felt no remorse. She was a mutation, and if she'd survived, that must mean her traits were adaptive. She was a predator to everything in the world, and she had a right to her food. She was at the top of the food chain, not humans. Not innovative, creative humans. Not the creatures of slight intelligence, the creatures who have yet to achieve immortality. Sometimes Jane thought their only purpose was to feed her, but only when she was overtaken by the rush of feeding.

By the time Aro threw the gigantic double doors open, there were only three humans left. Which normally wouldn't have been a problem, except Jane could feel a different pattern of pain behind him, and she recognized it from somewhere. It connected with her own.

"Didn't you save any for our guest?" Aro's voice rang out cool and clear over the cavernous feeding room. His eye's found Jane's, and a shudder ran through her. Who is his guest? She could clearly see that he was trying to make her feel uncomfortable, and she could still feel that odd sensation of familiarity connected to the stranger (who was still behind Aro's back). She felt with her powers, searched for the deep well of guilt that should be in the girl. But all she felt was a bit of anger. The anger was strong, sure, but didn't this girl feel guilty about anything? Ah, there it was. Jane could feel it, could feel the pain of the girl waking up to find….

Jane let out a shriek of horror at the vision that flashed across her mind. She sank to her knees, pain and shame and guilt weighing down her soul. She couldn't get up now even if she wanted to.

The picture she saw was so horrid that she could not bear to look. And now that she had seen it, she felt as though the image had been burned into the back of her eyelids. She could not be rid of the image, the girl's feet in a pool of blood, the tears pooling next to her feet. She could hear the sounds of screams from the house, and the sound of pounding feet as a young woman stood at the end of the hallway.

It was Jane. She had blood all over her face, and she ran toward Marlene. She felt the agony that Marlene had felt, because in every memory, she experienced whatever that person had felt.

But this time it was different, because it was her memory, too. Except in Jane's memory, there was shock. Grief. But pain? Never had Jane experienced this much pain in her life.

Knowing that she was responsible for causing a little girl this much pain, Jane felt as though she could die. And that she had caused her sister that much pain? She felt as though she could die ten times over.

Jane suddenly snapped to attention, standing up quickly, her screams ceasing. Now there was nothing but anger and shock, and it was all directed at Aro. One look at Marlene told Jane that she too had relived the memory and the pain, but Marlene had not made a sound.

Jane could feel Marlene's broken soul.

She charged toward Aro, reeling her fist back and slamming it into his jaw. But he stood, unflinching. Jane shrieked like a wild animal, thrashing around, trying to let the anger seep out of her skin, but she couldn't. So she shoved Aro aside and looked at the small child behind him.

But Jane could clearly see that this was not a girl of twelve years old, for she carried herself like someone who knew too much. Like a young, successful business woman who knew that no one in the world could ever take her down.

"Marlene?" Jane whispered. She was already at eye-level with the girl, for Marlene was tall, and Jane was short.

"I hate you." She said it plain and simple, just a statement. No heartfelt whisper of rage, no feeling behind the words. Marlene had said it as though she'd said it was going to rain that day. Most of her face was indifferent, as though she didn't care about what she was saying and didn't care what Jane said back to her. But Jane could see the burning hatred in the girl's eyes, and the pain of disappointment. And to that, Jane had nothing to say.

"I know." So that was it. They weren't going to start any drama, which would only make Aro feel satisfied with himself. Needless to say, Aro did most definitely not need an ego boost.

"Ladies, ladies, please calm down, there's no need for name calling," Aro called from across the room,whose temperature seemed to have dropped ten degrees in the past five minutes. Marlene let out a small groan and turned to face Aro.

"You know, Aro, neither of us were calling each other names. I suspect that you were hoping for us to call each other names, but we aren't going to."

"Well, you're rather blunt, aren't you? Little girls should be seen, not heard, you know." Aro snickered at his own joke though no one else was laughing. Marlene's eye's burned with a white-hot rage, for it was likely very annoying for everyone to always treat you like a child, no matter how helpful it may be at times.

"Aro, please just tell me why you wanted to bring me here so that I can leave as soon as possible. I don't like it here." Again Marlene was extremely blunt.

But Aro gave Marlene a mischievous smile and said, "I will tell you when I feel like telling you, and the more you beg the longer I'll wait. I have all the time in the world." With that, he left the room, the rest of the coven following him into the corridor.

Before she followed behind them, Jane heard Marlene mutter, "Not if I can help it." Jane contemplated the idea of Marlene murdering Aro in his sleep, and at the moment, it brought her no small pleasure. Jane was reminded then that even Aro's closest friends didn't like him. They tolerated him, and sometimes Jane wondered if he ever swam through other people's minds just to get away from his own. Jane sometimes did the same thing, even if all she had to experience was the pain.

Sometimes it was unbearable, and there was so much hurt that Jane wanted to ask Aro to kill her. She hadn't wanted this gift, hadn't wanted this burden of experiencing everyone's pain. Over the past thousand years, she'd tortured at least twice as many people.

The torture usually felt good as she was doing it, when she was so deeply connected to the other person's mind. She always felt unbelievably joyful as she sucked joy out of someone else.

But joy comes with a price.