Chapter Two: Money For Nothing
The city's skyline was breath-taking. The millions of lights made the dark evening brighter as the sun went down. I felt the most comfortable in big cities; they were dirty, dangerous, and dazzling.
The sun had set by the time we arrived at Richie's building. We approached the opulent entryway, which the doorman held open for us. "It's good to see you Miss Anastasia," he said as we walked past.
"You too Don," I replied.
We made our way to the private elevator and got on. I depressed the button marked "P." "So Richie lives in the penthouse," Jasper commented.
"Of course," I replied. Richie Moretti would have nothing less than the very best; he made sure to have the best apartment, the best cars, the best shows, the best friends, and the best women.
After ascending twenty floors, the elevator opened up to reveal a large foyer. At the opposite end of the grand room were a set of double doors, marked number "2001." I rang the bell. Richie was as enthusiastic as always when he opened the door and saw me. "Anastasia!" he exclaimed, then gave me a warm hug. He ushered us in and I took in the familiar surroundings.
Off of the grand entryway, and to one side, were the dining, study, and living rooms. Straight ahead was the kitchen, and off to the other side were the bedrooms. One of these was a master suite, while the other three bedrooms peppered the rest of the space. The entire apartment was decorated expensively in a New York club style, with dark woods and espresso-colored leathers. The knick-knacks were tasteful, and the artwork I knew cost more than the apartment itself. Large floor-to-ceiling windows gave a spectacular view of Central Park. Like I said: only the best.
"It's been too long," Richie was saying. "I guess Daddy's had you putting in overtime. I don't really blame you for going AWOL." Richie looked the same as he always had: tall, dark, handsome, and Italian. He reminded me a lot of today's Ray Liotta.
"It has been a while," I answered. Richie took us into the living room where I made the introductions. "Richie," I said, "These are the Cullens: Edward and Jasper."
"Ah yes," Richie said, looking them over. "The country hicks from Nowheresville, Washington." He laughed with a friendly smile. "Tell me: who's feeding the chickens while you field hands are visiting my city?" He laughed again.
"Be nice Richie," I said with a smile.
"Alright, alright," he conceded. "But listen—I know Ana likes to stay in while she's hot on a mission, but I'm going out this evening, and you fellas should join me."
"I don't think they'd enjoy a night on the town in your style," I told him.
"What guy wouldn't enjoy beautiful women and a 'bite' to eat?" Richie laughed.
"They don't drink human blood," I clarified.
"Right. Vegetarians—Ana mentioned that before," he said. "Too bad."
"You just go out and hunt in the city?" Jasper asked incredulously. "Doesn't that attract attention from other humans, not to mention the Volturi as well?"
"We do things differently here in the city as opposed to Bumkinsville," Richie answered. "It takes discipline and practice, but you don't have to kill someone to feed off of them." He smiled. "Some girls give it to you willingly; I don't know—maybe they think it's sexy. And as for the others, they think you're just being rough," he said with a bounce of his eyebrows. "Though, if you really want the whole thing, you can just simply find a prostitute off the street that nobody will miss. Why do you think there are so many unsolved murders in this town?"
A look of disgust came over Jasper's face. I, personally, did not begrudge Richie his lifestyle. Most sophisticated vampires fed like he did. Humans ate chicken and beef, and vampires ate humans; it's just how the food chain worked.
"Well, in that case," Richie continued, "I hit the Red Cross for you Ana. The bags are on the top shelf in the second fridge."
"Thanks Richie," I said.
"I also took the liberty of getting something else of your favorite: dark chocolate and raspberry gelato. It's in the freezer."
"Thanks," I said again, "but you know I can't stand American gelato."
"I promise this stuff is the real thing," Richie replied. "I found this little hole-in-the-wall a couple blocks down. The guy who owns it is only third generation American born." Then he looked at Edward and Jasper. "I also ran by a slaughter house in Jersey for some animal blood for the both of you," he said. "It's not as fresh as I'm sure you're used to, but it's USDA choice anyway." He smiled at his own joke.
"That was very thoughtful," Edward told him. "Thank you. And thank you also for helping us." Richie nodded and smiled in acknowledgment.
"They didn't ask you any questions at the slaughter house?" Jasper wondered.
"I'm sure the wad of cash I placed in the guy's hand answered all the questions he may have had," Richie replied. "One thing you learn in this business is that anything can be bought for the right price." He winked at me. "Well, I'm off," Richie announced. "Don't wait up for me kids!" With that, he kissed my cheek, grabbed a coat—for fashion's sake—and walked out the door.
"What do we do now?" Edward asked me.
"Now," I said, "I cuddle up in my PJs with my carton of gelato, and you two can do whatever you like."
"We're not going to look for Renesme?" Edward asked sharply.
"We see Henri tomorrow," was my answer.
"And who's Henri?" Jasper asked.
"Henri is the one who will give us a lead as to where Demetri or Trevor may be hiding," I answered.
"So we're just going to wait?" Jasper asked incredulously.
"We can't very well go traipsing around New York, with millions of people, hoping to sniff them out," I retorted. "We need intel. I got a text from Henri when we arrived that it's going to take a little longer to get it."
"Your friend Richie can't help us?" Edward asked.
"The Mafia isn't going to get involved with Volturi business," I explained.
"It seems like he already is," Jasper said.
"He's involved in my business," I told him. "He's my friend, not the Volturi's. He's good for a bed and some gelato." I looked over their two concerned faces. "Relax," I told them. "Demetri's plan is to end this here; he's not going to hop a plane to Italy yet. Plus, it's to our benefit if we find him without him knowing, so we catch him by surprise." I gestured towards the kitchen. "You two should drink up and rest. We'll be facing the Volturi soon enough, and you need to be in top shape."
I left the pair in the living room and wheeled my luggage into one of the guest bedrooms. It was decorated like the rest of the place—meaning everything was top of the line. A fifty-two inch LCD TV was hung on the wall like a piece of art.
I pulled my designer flannel pajamas out of my Louis Vuitton suitcase and put them on. I headed into the kitchen next. Jasper was drinking blood from a bottle and flipping through stations on the TV that was on the counter. I said nothing to him, but opened the freezer and pulled out the large carton of gelato. I grabbed a spoon, took the whole thing with me, and left.
While in the hallway, I could see Edward in the study, sitting in one of the leather armchairs. I entered and sat on the couch opposite him. He too had a bottle of blood; though it sat on the end table next to him, untouched. I opened the carton of gelato and began eating. Richie had done well; this stuff was pretty good. Being only half-vampire, I needed and enjoyed consuming blood, but I also enjoyed eating human food; of course, no calorie ever touched me.
"We'll find Renesme—don't worry," I told Edward between spoonfuls. He gave me a weak smile.
We sat in silence for a minute; I looked at him as he stared, unseeingly, at a Giorgio Morandi on the wall—which, I'm pretty sure, the artist gave to Richie personally. Edward was good-looking, in a good-boy sort of way. He was intelligent and had a quick wit too. His hair was dark; like I preferred. His eyes were golden; they were similar to Will's hazel eyes before he was changed, and yet not. Strong hands. Nice lips.
"You're too easy on her you know," I said to him.
Edward broke out of his trance at the sound of my voice. "What?" he asked.
"Bella," I replied. "You're too easy on Bella."
"What do you mean?" he asked me.
I smiled and put down my gelato. "I mean," I explained, "that you should kiss me passionately." Edward's eyebrows went up. "That's right," I continued. "You should kiss me—even enjoy it—and then declare your undying love for Bella anyway." Edward continued to eye me, confused. "I mean like what Bella did with Jacob," I said.
Edward's expression turned pained and reflective; my words had affected him. "I've done things," he finally said. "I've done things that deserve far worse. I don't blame her."
"You're talking about when you left her," I clarified and he nodded in response. I took another bite of gelato and thought back. "You know," I finally said, "there's something I should tell you."
"What's that?" he asked.
"The Volturi, when it comes to anyone other than themselves, don't like it when vampires take humans into their confidence," I began, "like you and Bella a few years ago." Edward had a sad look in his eyes as he listened to me. "To put it mildly, the Volturi weren't happy about Bella Swan getting so close to your family." I paused before going on to the next part. "They were so unhappy about it, in fact, that they put a price on her head."
"They wanted her killed?" Edward asked breathlessly.
I nodded the affirmative and continued. "The reason that I'm telling you this is because when you left her," I emphasized the words, "you saved her life. You backed off from Bella and the Volturi lost interest." I looked into Edward's pained eyes. "If you hadn't left Bella, things would have turned out very differently for her and the rest of your family. So, you should stop blaming yourself," I finished.
Edward seemed to ponder what I had said. "Thank you for telling me," he said.
"Don't mention it," I said, getting up off of the couch. I gestured to the bottle of animal blood. "You should drink that. We've got a full day tomorrow."
He obeyed by taking a sip as I headed for the door. "Ana," he called, and I stopped to turn around and look at him. "Why are you helping us?" he asked.
"I have my reasons," I said easily, and then left. I climbed into the comfortable bed, in between the trillion-count sheets, and listened to the sounds from outside. The car horns, police sirens, and shouting were like a lullaby to me, and I fell asleep quickly.