In the Grip of Twilight

By:

Olivia Tannis Moore

Chapter Seventeen:

The Inquisition

Even after listening to Edward's heinous description of the Volturi, I didn't quite know what to expect. I just trusted that if I was polite, and honored their request to view my memories, everything would turn out fine. At least that's what I told myself over and over on the way to the Cullen home.

"Last chance," Edward said as we entered the long driveway to the manor.

"I'm committed," I said. And then I watched as the lights from the large white house came into view.

Edward parked the Volvo in the garage, coming around to open my door for me, and then he put his arm around my waist and we walked around to the entrance. The drive had been unusually slow and leisurely, and so was the walk from the garage. I had the feeling Edward was in no hurry to get back home.

But even the slowest walk will get you where you're going eventually, as ours did. And when we entered the foyer of the house, everyone seemed to be gathered there. At first, I thought they were there anticipating our arrival. My stomach gave a sudden lurch as we paused just inside the large double doors.

I didn't see the three they called the Volturi, not right away. Emmett's great bulk seemed to hover over the group as they stood there. And if they saw us enter, no one turned around to greet us. In fact, Jasper and Alice had their head down; and Rosalie was looking away. Carlisle's back was to us. Through the narrow spaces between their bodies I caught glimpses of black: black garments, black hair. And a shock of white hair that belonged to someone in the middle of that circle.

It was Esme who finally turned and gestured for us come over. And from the look on her face, something must've been terribly wrong.

We went to Esme's side. Edward's arm was now gripping my waist tighter.

"What's the matter?" he asked Esme under his breath.

Esme leaned in to welcome me with a hug. While I was still in her embrace, she whispered, "Aro wants to take the Forgotten's body back to Italy with them. Carlisle is trying to reason with him."

It was then that I happened to look up and there he was, staring at me with an odd closed-lip smile. His face appeared to be both young and ancient at the same time. His skin was impossibly pale and it reminded me of a snake's skin that had just been shed, shimmery and translucent. It contrasted vividly with his long black hair. He was slender and I could see that the black garment I had glimpsed only a moment earlier was actually a long, draping robe. He stepped forward and my heart skipped a beat. Edward tugged me closer, but still I couldn't look away.

"You must be Edward's… friend." He said 'friend' as if there was some hidden meaning behind the word.

I nodded.

"This is Bella," Edward told him. And then Edward said, "Bella, this is Aro of Volterra. A friend of the family. Behind him, are our guests, Caius and Marcus of Volterra."

I broke free of Aro's gaze to peer at the other dark-haired one, and then the one with the startling white hair. They both had the same sheer quality to their skin. Both wore the heavy black robes. But they didn't stare at me with the same intensity that Aro did. They seemed indifferent to me, and I was glad of it.

"I'm quite intrigued with what has been going on here in the New World," Aro said, claiming my attention once again. It seemed he spoke only to me, as his eyes never wavered from mine. "I'd like to see what happened last night, if you don't mind?

My voice was a bit raspy, but thankfully it did not quiver, "Not at all."

"Come now, let us sit down," Aro said, and with an unimaginably fluid movement, he glided over the floor and into the open parlor. He was seated there, in one of the many empty chairs in front of the massive fireplace, before we entered the room. The blazing fire reflected off his face and robes giving him a devilish appearance.

Aro smiled and gently touched the chair beside him where I should sit. My feet did not move of their own free will; I'm sure of that. Edward's steely arm guided me forward, but the tug I felt coming from Aro is what my feet obeyed. I sat down with an ungraceful thud—something I felt was not my doing, for once.

"Here, my child, let the fire warm you." His voice, there was something metallic about it, tinny, yet strong as steel; unnatural. In fact, as I sat there rigidly in the chair inches from his, I felt there was something entirely slithery about Aro, as if the swamp ran deep in his veins, murky and brackish; all the while he smiled and tried to charm you.

"If you will extend your hand out toward the fire," he urged me.

I felt the pressure of Edward's hand abruptly disappear from my own—only then realizing that he had been holding my hand since we'd sat down.

I lifted my hand. And when I had no more than lifted it a few inches from the armrest, I felt the frigid-cold of his skin as his hand claimed mine. Such an unbearable cold, it penetrated into the bones of my hand—I tried to pull away, unsuccessfully.

His eyes darted from my face to our joined hands. "She will not open to me!" The unrelenting cold of his hand was making my eyes sting and water.

"Open to me!" he demanded. And from Edward there was a warning growl, rumbling deep and low so that I could feel it within my chest.

"I-I can't," I said.

And suddenly there was the tiniest of stings and he let go of my hand as if it had burned him. I wasn't sure who had injured who—there was a droplet of blood on my index finger. I stared at it, mesmerized. His hand was a flurry of movement as he flicked the blood from my finger and pressed it to his tongue. Then there was a tremendous roar and I found myself knocked from the chair.

(Note: New chapter on Monday. Thanks for reading—and thank you for your comments.---OTM)