Chapter Six: She Can Get It

I continued to walk through the dismal neighborhood. I was getting close—I could feel it. For some vampires, the preferred method of feeding was to grab prostitutes off streets like these. Henri's information had led me to this area. Now was the hour in which he would be hunting; I'd beat him at his own game.

I hugged the tacky jacket closer to me, as if I were cold. I masked my vampire scent and let the human side dominate. I created the scent of perspiration lingering around me and quickened my step; I would look and smell anxious, unsure and hurried. If you were going fishing, you had to bring the right kind of bait. I had done this countless times before for the Volturi, and I had no doubt that it would work just as well now.

And I was right. I continued to walk, seeming oblivious, as I heard the decaying car pull up behind me and keep pace. Not every vampire lived the high life.

He sped up a little to overtake me and then stopped. I stopped as well. Behind the fur of the coat, most of my face was hidden—I couldn't take the chance that he'd recognize me. The Volturi had worked hard to keep my anonymity for their own purposes, but I was almost certain that this vampire would know me.

He leaned out of his window and leered at me. "C'mon honey," he said. "Let me get you out of this place."

"I don't think you can afford me," I answered simply.

"Trust me. I'm sure I can," he said.

I said nothing more, but walked around the front of the car and got into the passenger seat. As I shut the creaking door, I let the jacket fall from around my face. As I had expected, the skeevy grin fell from his face, and his eyes widened with recognition. Before he could react, I grabbed him by the back of his neck with my left hand. I connected his head with the steering wheel hard, and then drew him back to look at me.

"Anastasia," he said. I said nothing in return. "To what do I owe this pleasure La Corona?" he asked me with nervous chuckle. I had heard that nickname before. Though I didn't know who started it, I did know that it came partly from my Spanish heritage, and partly from the popular belief that I was the crowning princess of the Volturi guard—their most prized and talented weapon. I knew differently, however; I was merely convenient for my father. Though, I did like the mystique that the rumors gave me.

"Don't try to run, and don't fight me," I told the vampire. "I only want information."

"I don't know where Demetri is," he said. I shot him a confused look, so he continued. "It's gotten around that you're helping the Cullens get their kid back—that you've gone AWOL."

I tightened my grip and bore my eyes into his. "Do you really think that I would go against the Volturi, just like that?" I asked him.

"But you're helping the Cullens," he said, confused.

I chuckled deep in my throat. "Demetri's plan wasn't working," I said, "so I decided to take matters in to my own hands." I smiled. "Plus, who do you think will be Aro's favorite after she leads the entire Cullen family into his hands, willingly." I laughed again.

"You are as ruthless as they say," he told me. Then he smiled, cautiously. "So what Volturi business would bring you to me?" he asked. "What information could I possibly have that would interest them?"

I shoved his head into the steering column again and then jerked him back to look at me. "Don't play dumb with me," I told him. "We know you were in favor with the Resistance." His eyes widened when I said this. "I want names."

The Resistance, I knew, was a rebel group of vampires that opposed the rule of the Volturi. In fact, the start of The Resistance dated back to King Clovis I of France. It was said that an angel presented him with the fleur de lis upon his conversion to Christianity. In reality, the angel was a vampire that "converted" him or changed him into one of our kind. It was then that the King adopted the symbol of the fleur de lis, as a symbol of rebirth, and placed it in the French coat of arms. Later, it became the unofficial symbol of the Resistance; perhaps Clovis had started the group against the Volturi. Some people thought that the French never got involved in anything; that was perhaps true of the humans, but certainly not of the vampires.

Supposedly, since then, the Resistance grew in influence as more sought the overthrowing of the Volturi. However, they had never openly come up against us—instead doing little things to frustrate the plans of the Volturi—so the identity of the members remained a mystery to us. The Volturi still couldn't take the chance that they would strike, so I had been assigned on missions previously to try and learn their identities. This was the first really good lead I had had in a long time.

"I want something else to lay at my father's feet when I get back to Volterra," I continued. "I know that you helped some members of the Resistance before. I know that they took you into their confidence. I want names."

"You think that you can just beat it out of me," he spat at me.

"Drop the 'I have morals' act," I said coolly. "You and I both know that you're not loyal to them. You helped them once upon a time because there was something in it for you. You're going to help me now because there's something in it for you."

"I don't want the Volturi's money," he said.

"Good, because I'm not offering it," I answered. "I know you would prefer to continue feeding off of hookers." I smiled. "What I am offering is something far better."

"And what would that be?" he asked.

I leaned in closer and he squirmed to try to free himself. "I know where Derek is," I whispered. His eyes went wide with a flame of hatred burning behind them. "I know Derek killed your mate years ago," I continued, "and I know you've been looking for him, without success, but I'm prepared to deliver him to you." I saw the new resolve take hold in his facial expression. "Names," I helped.

"Alarick Mansing," he told me.

I sent his head flying into the dash again. "You idiot!" I shouted at him. "Do you think I'm that stupid? We know about that low-ranking-nothing already!" I leaned in and whispered with venom, "Give me what I want or I will kill you where you sit."

"Vicente De Luca," he said.

I blinked and drew back from him as I heard the name. I hadn't been expecting that, but the more I thought about it, the more it made sense. I composed myself and spoke, "I'll give you a name and you tell me if they're Resistance." He, of course, was in no position to refuse. I looked at him and spoke the name, "Carlisle Cullen."

His eyes went wide with surprise, but nodded once to show the affirmative. That was all that I needed. I had the information that I had come for.