In the city, the frigid December weather made no difference to James and Victoria, but it was clear that most Milwaukeeans were happy to go straight home from work and remain there. Those few hardy souls who chose to visit local hostelries all seemed to travel in groups, their breath crystalizing as soon as it was expelled into the icy air.

James may have had a gift for tracking, but it was clear he had little talent for planning. What's more, he was beginning to think that Victoria was a far from compliant and willing accomplice. As the darkening streets began to empty, he became more and more frustrated at their lack of success in locating appropriate victims, and it was clear that Vicky wasn't even trying that hard, if at all. However, even the homeless were thin on the ground and tended to band together for safety and warmth—a night on these streets at this time of year could quickly lead to hypothermia and death.

Nevertheless, following a week of trawling rather less salubrious neighborhoods, James had gathered together a collection of some half dozen "recruits", although a more rag-tag bunch would be hard to find. It was at this point that he discovered just what a problematic and exasperating challenge it would be. Keeping any group of newborns fed and under control would be a major task, but add into the mix the fact that many of them had been homeless because of mental health issues, and you had an altogether more difficult undertaking. Any hope of staying under the radar was quickly extinguished as the newborns kept evading Victoria, to whom James had assigned the job of controlling them, and now the local news channels were reporting strange murders and disappearances.

In the face of imminent discovery, James knew they could delay no longer. Six new vampires, with all their considerable newborn strength, plus himself and Victoria, would surely suffice against the animal feeders. With a little training and by ensuring they were suitably afraid to defy him, James decided his army was ready, and it was time to enact the next, lethal stage of his plan.

~o0o~

Far away from the glacial American night, across an ocean and six time zones, a pale man, dressed all in black, frowned at the small TV screen in his private quarters as a glossy, overly made-up female news presenter reported on a worrying spate of deaths among the homeless community in a North American city whose name he imagined was derived from the indigenous native population. He had been made aware of similar outbreaks over several millennia, but it was only in the last sixty or seventy years that such news had the means to travel like wildfire.

The man sighed. It had been so much easier before the advent of radio, television, and now the cursed internet to suppress and cover up the nefarious activities of his kind. Still, not since the Southern Vampire Wars had he been so troubled by news of this kind from the Americas. Back then, it had become necessary to dispatch a small band of the most formidable members of his Guard to quash the endless infighting and destroy its power-hungry instigator, Maria Ortez. She had been relying upon the huge loss of life resulting from the American Civil War to cover her bloody tracks, but it was the war itself that had eventually drawn more and more news coverage, and this, allied to the advent of telegraphic means to send reports across the country, meant that clever and curious journalists were starting to voice uncomfortable questions. When a reporter for the New York Tribune died in mysterious circumstances in 1862, it alerted others to something that could not be explained by the war. Then, a year later, an up-and-coming young man from Frank Leslie's Illustrated Newspaper, who was becoming well known in the new art of photojournalism, was seen by witnesses to have died, only to seemingly come back from the dead mere days later and observed by one of the same witnesses to "move as if propelled by the wings of Hell, with skin so white and the eyes of the Devil himself." This witness, a Confederate soldier, claimed to have taken refuge inside the "stinking carcass of a dead horse, lest that fiend discover me and devour my soul."

All this he told to a group of his fellow soldiers around a campfire a few days later. They were all drunk on pillaged moonshine as they tried, and failed, to escape the horrors of what they had seen and done over three interminable years of this ghastly war of attrition. They had tried to laugh it off, to mock their compatriot, but there was one among them who didn't laugh—another reporter who placed credence on the traumatized man's words. Thus, news of strange deaths and disappearances spread, eventually reaching the ears of those who could not countenance such dangerous publicity, and a contingent of the Guard was sent to put a stop to such rumors.

The black-clad man hissed. It had only been 163 years since the Volturi had been forced to put down a conflagration in the United States, and now it looked like they would have to do so once again. It was infuriating. He would speak to his brothers, and they would decide what must be done. These were certainly less simple times, and careful consideration would have to be given to this latest and most overt challenge to their primary law.

~o0o~

Just ten miles north of Milwaukee, the occupants of the Cullen residence were all gathered in the huge conservatory overlooking Lake Michigan as Alice explained her latest vision. They were all acutely aware of the ruthless activities of James and his consort from the TV news, and now, Alice was relaying the details of the deadly plot to which the reporters on the ground had no access.

Carlisle shook his head in despair at the idea that James's vendetta against them and his irrational obsession with Alice had impacted on innocent people whose lives were already so immeasurably blighted. His first reaction was that they needed to help the newborns James had created to settle into a discreet vampire existence, but he had quickly been forced to agree with the others that this would be next to impossible, bearing in mind where they came from and the possibility that, along with their current unstable situation, these people were all likely to suffer from a multitude of issues that would make them very dangerous vampires who were likely to attract the unwanted attention of the Volturi.

Of course, Carlisle was depressingly aware that they, themselves, might not come out of any conflict wholly intact, although he was bolstered by Jasper's absolute confidence that their preparedness and superior intellect, allied with their gifts and his own experience of dealing with and fighting newborns, would win the day and see them come out of the whole debacle completely unscathed.

Thus it was that as the news anchors speculated on the rash of brutal murders, and then the sudden cessation of such activities, Alice watched for the return of James and his murderous cohort. A clear ten hours before they arrived, she saw their progress in a vision that showed them swimming unseen beneath the still, black surface of a glacial Lake Michigan before emerging in front of the house and rushing it from the beach in a pre-dawn onslaught. Knowing precisely when and where the attack would begin meant they had plenty of time to run various stratagems past Alice in order to formulate the best possible plan to defeat James and neutralize his makeshift army.

James may have been aware that Alice was gifted but seemed to have absolutely no concept of just how it worked or the sheer breadth of its scope. Nonetheless, they made sure to have back-up plans in case he was aware that he needed to mask his intentions and, more importantly, was able to do so.

At the appointed time, the family spread out along the beach at the rear of the house. Carlisle had insisted that Laurent support Jasper and Emmett in dealing with the newborns—he wanted their new ally well away from his former companions—while Edward would keep tabs on the thoughts of James and Victoria. Carlisle also wanted Alice out of sight in the house, although she would, of course, be close enough for Edward to see her visions and act accordingly. Bella would stand guard behind the men, just outside the house, while Rosalie and Esme would be inside with Alice, in the unlikely event that James might somehow break through.

Along the beach, the plan was for Jasper, Emmett and Laurent to outflank the interlopers and take them out as quickly as possible, leaving James and Victoria exposed and vulnerable. Jasper advised that, despite their superior strength, the newbies would be inept and chaotic. He told his companions to get behind them and go for their arms, ripping them off in order to render them helpless, and then take off their heads. They had already built a small bonfire, which they would quickly ignite as soon as there were bodies to dispose of.

As Edward's mind filled with Alice's vision of the imminent arrival of her nemesis, they all prepared themselves. Mere minutes later, several vampires emerged from the lake, like a scene from The Pirates of the Caribbean. Jasper held back, waiting for the entire group to come up onto the beach before giving a silent, pre-arranged signal. Within seconds, the first three newborns were crippled, then swiftly decapitated. Two of the remaining three hesitated, confused and afraid, and then tried to run for it, only to be caught up within Bella's shield and flung back toward Emmett and Laurent, who wasted no time ending their short-lived existence as immortals.

The final recruit had already decided he wasn't going down as easily as his fellow combatants. Desperation and low cunning spurred him around the side of the house, intending to head into the forest and escape both this new threat and the vile bully who had dragged him into this unwanted conflagration. Hard on his heels, Emmett and Laurent were equally determined to halt his progress before he could breach the perimeter and wreak havoc in the surrounding area. The large compound that made up the Cullen home stood somewhat isolated from the local community, but it would take mere minutes for a newborn to reach the closest humans and slake what must by now be a raging thirst.

With a silent hand signal from Emmett, Laurent diverged from their single path, the two of them forming a pincer movement, quickly overhauling their prey, who, despite his speed, was still unable to handle all the information that poured into his mind, confusing him and making him indecisive. Nevertheless, he was able to perceive the threat and turned automatically, heading back to the house and bursting through a side door into the kitchen.

A low hiss brought him up short as he was confronted by three livid women crouched and waiting. Before he could process this new threat, the tall blonde to his left snarled and leapt into the air, her stilettoed feet catching him square in the face and sending him hurtling backward, just as Emmett flew through the door, immediately followed by Laurent. The interloper's involuntary flight was halted as he fell into the immovable object that was Emmett McCarty-Cullen, who spun the stumbling vampire around. As he gnashed his razor sharp teeth and fought for his life, Laurent and Emmett grabbed his flailing arms. Snarling and snapping like a rabid dog, he suddenly felt a weight on his shoulders as Alice threw herself onto his back and clutched his head in a vice-like grip. Twisting hard and fast, she tore his head from his body and tossed it to the floor, jumping clear as he crumpled to the floor in a lifeless heap.

Stepping forward, Esme—the gentle, loving matriarch of this band of vampires—grabbed the rolling head by its hair and swept through the shattered door. "Get that body off my clean floor," she barked, hurling the head down the beach like a bowling ball toward where Jasper had already ignited the fire. The men arched an eyebrow at one another, and then obeyed the unambiguous instruction.

Meanwhile, as the last of the newborns was meeting his end, James squared up to an enemy that had managed to cut off his escape routes.

Now isolated, his shanghaied army utterly destroyed in minutes, James decided that his best defense was offense and hurled himself at the man he considered to be the weakest link; Carlisle Cullen. But, despite his gentle demeanor and obvious reverence for preserving life, the good doctor hadn't survived for over 400 years on earth without having developed a strong sense of self-preservation and a few useful moves. The very second James formulated the thought, Edward shouted a well-timed warning, and Carlisle dodged nimbly out of the way, landing a vicious rabbit punch between the younger vampire's shoulder blades. It only slowed him for a moment, but it was enough time for Jasper to join Edward and Carlisle.

Twisting around to face them, James crinkled his nose at the stench of burning vampires. All his life, both as a human and a vampire, others had tried to best him, but he had always come out on top. He sneered contemptuously as Jasper stepped toward him, holding a hand up to forestall his friends from getting involved.

"He's mine, gentleman. He upset my Alice like no one ever has before, and he will pay for that."

"I'm gonna kill you, you southern hick, and then I'm gonna kill all of you—"

"You talk way too much, you Yankee piece of shit! Let's see what you've got."

James was no fool; he could see the silvery scars that littered Jasper's arms. But he was James Weiner and wasn't going to let this southern inbred get the better of him. He was outnumbered, he knew, but if he was going down, he was taking this asshole with him. Crouching, he glanced around him. "Vicky, watch my back."

With that, he dipped and grabbed a handful of sand, throwing it at Jasper. It would do him no harm but might distract him for a moment, and a moment was all he needed.

Jasper grimaced and seemed to twirl away from the crimson-eyed vampire. James, believing his subterfuge had worked, launched himself at his nemesis, only to be caught unaware by a kick to his chin which lifted him off his feet and sent him flailing onto his back in the sand. Immediately jumping up, he was caught again by a kick to his temple that would have felled a buffalo. Stumbling slightly in surprise, he looked to where his enemy had been but was no longer. Spinning, he realized too late that Victoria no longer had his back—if, indeed, she ever had—because it was Jasper he now faced. With no time to react, even with his vampire reflexes, he merely had time to feel Jasper's boot making contact with his chest before he once again stumbled back. This time, though, he didn't allow himself to think, he just forced himself to launch an attack, throwing himself at the golden-eyed vampire—surely, an animal-feeder couldn't match his own superior strength—determined this time to land the first blow. The sand underfoot did him no favors, however, and in truth, he never stood a chance against a fighter of Jasper's caliber. Even as a human, there was a reason he'd been promoted to the rank of major before his twenty-sixth birthday, and as a vampire, it was unlikely he could be matched.

Feigning to the right, James was almost upon him when he suddenly twisted to the left, and as James tried to slow his momentum in the soft, uneven sand, Jasper was suddenly on his back, one arm in a chokehold across his throat, the other gripping his jaw so hard his sharp fingernails penetrated the stony skin there.

With that, he twisted and pulled, and with a shriek of stone grinding against stone, he separated head from body and flung it unerringly into the fire. He leapt to his feet as James's useless body dropped to the sand, only to then quickly follow its head into the flames, now flaring into flames of purple and green.

The whole episode, from the moment the attacking force had broken the surface of the steely water to the point at which James ceased to exist, had taken less than ten minutes. Nevertheless, Carlisle was glad that when he bought the land on which to build this house, he had purchased the tracts on either side, thus ensuring absolute privacy.

Laurent walked up to join the others, his face alternating between shock and relief.

From the house, Esme, Rosalie and Alice appeared and quickly moved to join their mates, even as Edward folded his precious Bella inside his embrace.

"You were incredible, love," he whispered into her hair, pressing a kiss to the same spot.

Emmett laughed. "Well, that wasn't much of a fight, was it? I was hoping for better things from James. Hey, what's up, man?"

Laurent turned at the big man's enquiry. "Victoria. She's gone."

Instinctively, they all looked around, realizing for the first time that the redhead was missing.

Jasper looked at Carlisle over Alice's head, his arms wrapped tightly around her. "Looks like she erred on the side of discretion over valor. What do you think, Carlisle? Should we go look for her, put her on the fire?"

Carlisle shook his head sadly. "No, Jasper, there's been enough destruction for one night. Much as it pains me, I don't believe we had any choice other than to take out James and his unfortunate creations, but I doubt Victoria will cause us any problems. I didn't get the impression that her heart was in it, and they certainly weren't mated."

Another low chuckle from Emmett drew their attention. "Maybe Eddie here would like to take her down. I mean, she definitely had the hots for him!"

At Bella's low growl, Emmett laughed out loud. "Or maybe Bells would rather do the honors. I'd be happy to watch that cat fight." He chuckled again, shaking his head, and then swearing loudly as Rosalie punched his arm.

"Shut up, you idiot. Apart from anything else, it would hardly be a cat fight, as Bella would easily take out that tramp. She'd just have to pull her inside her shield, punch her lights out and rip her head off. No contest." She frowned as she examined the broken heel on one of her Jimmy Choos.

Emmett grinned. "Too right, Rosie. Bells is baaad-ass!" he cawed.

The object of his hero-worship merely rolled her eyes. "Victoria can go fly a kite, for all I care. I think you're right, Carlisle; I doubt she'll be back. Come on, Edward, let's go home. I love you all, but I need some serious downtime with my man."

Edward needed zero persuasion on that front.

~o0o~

Back in their cottage, Edward and Bella concentrated on each other. It had become incredibly important to both of them when they were here with the family that they spent time reconnecting, just the two of them. They loved the Cullens, and even the naturally solitary Edward had to admit that he truly enjoyed their company, especially spending time with Carlisle, with whom he could literally lose days at a time in conversation. In just this last short year, he had learned so much from him, not least his theories on the dynamics of good and evil within the vampire world.

However, these last few days had been difficult for all of them, and the intensity of dealing with James, and even the visit by the Denalis and testing Bella's shield, had taken its toll. Now, in the aftermath of all that talking and planning and group activities, the couple just wanted some quiet time with one another.

Bella's favorite thing was to take a long, hot bubble-bath with Edward—wholly unnecessary and utterly redundant as it might be for vampires, she still loved the luxury of it and how it made her feel so close to him. They teased and tantalized one another into a high state of arousal until Edward rose from the water like Poseidon, lifting Bella with him and taking her hard and fast on the bathroom floor until they both reached the apex of pleasure.

Later, dry but still naked, they moved to the bedroom, where they made love softly, unhurriedly, and as Bella felt her orgasm slowly build, for the first time during such an intense act of union, she enveloped Edward within her shield. Moving languidly inside her, Edward was instantly aware of it, his eyes burning into hers as he felt a closeness he'd never experienced before, even with his beloved mate.

It was at this point that an extraordinary thing happened. Feeling Bella start to tighten around him, he saw something in her eyes as she threw a leg over his shoulder, allowing him deeper, and then …

I love you … I love you … so, so much. Edward …

It was her voice … Bella's voice inside his head … her thoughts.

"Bella … oh God, Bella, I can hear you!"

With that, there was no holding back their shattering climaxes as they fell and fell. Still inside her, Edward pulled them up so that Bella was straddling his lap on the bed, her legs wrapped tightly around him. He brushed her wild hair away from her face, his eyes intent upon hers.

"Bella … my love … how … how did you do that?"

"I … I'm not sure. I just … I don't know … kind of imagined my inner shield and thought about trying to stretch it, but I couldn't, and then, when I started to come it sort of felt more … stretchy and … flexible? And I just thought it … I mean, I pushed it toward you, wanting to pull you inside. Did you really hear me?"

"Yes, love, I really heard you. It was … God, it was amazing!"

She smiled, resting her forehead against his. "Well, if you want to hear me again, it looks like the only way is to give me lots of orgasms."

"Now that, I can do."

Cupping her face, he kissed her softly, her response immediate as she kissed him back and started to undulate on top of him. Soon, their lovemaking intensified, building yet again to another powerful orgasm, and Bella's voice once again rang through his head as she proclaimed her infinite love.

Edward couldn't recall a time, certainly since becoming a human adolescent, when he had ever cried, not even when his parents had passed. But he knew that had he been physically capable of it now, he would weep with the joy of this moment. This woman … this beautiful, extraordinary woman was his, and he was hers, and no amount of time would ever diminish the love he felt for her.

Love. Such a tiny word. A word that was bandied about by so many, every day, in every part of the world, it's meaning so often devalued by both misuse and overuse. But in its purest, most unadulterated form, this small, innocuous word encapsulated all that he felt for Bella: desire, friendship, lust, adoration, pride, passion, worship—all these things and more. He was truly blessed.

As the lovers joined with one another over and over, they thought about the wonderful life they would share over the ensuing years and decades without the shadow of someone like James hanging over them.

~o0o~

Sometime later, as the inhabitants of the Cullen estate happily prepared for Christmas, the body of a young woman with long red hair cooled in the back corner of a cleaner's closet at O'Hare Airport in Chicago. As she lay unseen, a woman who looked sufficiently like her to pass muster, especially with the tinted contact lenses she had bought from an airport drugstore, handed her passport to a clerk at the Virgin Atlantic check-in desk, chatting amiably as she confirmed she had packed her own bag, that no one had touched it since then, and that she would like an aisle seat. She placed the large suitcase on the scale and then watched as the clerk tagged it and sent it on its way.

Handing the passport back, together with a boarding pass, the young man smiled. "Have a good trip, Ms Turner. Where in Italy are you heading?"

"Oh, I'm visiting friends near Florence; a place called Volterra." Victoria offered the clerk a final smile and turned toward the departure gates.

A/N: Thank you all so much for the great comments and reactions - it's such a joy to read your thoughts and interact with my small band of loyal reviewers. I hope you enjoyed this little fracas and look forward to introducing you to an entirely new, non-canon "character" in the next chapter. Until then, lovelies, have a great week. I believe it's Mother's Day in America (we have ours in March here), so my very best wishes to all the wonderful mums out there; I hope you get as spoiled as you deserve. xoxo