*** This story contains some mild language, suspense, romance, and some frightening situations—13 and older, please. --OTM

** Addendum: This chapter has been updated with a missing paragraph that was somehow lost during the first upload.

In the Grip of Twilight

By:

Olivia Tannis Moore

Chapter Twenty Six:

Something Borrowed

Edward put the strange vial inside the pocket of his windbreaker and started for the airline counters. "Come on, let's go check in."

"Wait," I said, hurrying to catch up with him. Was I supposed to know what he'd just flashed before my eyes? Some greenish goop floating around in a glass tube?

He looked somewhat annoyed, glancing around us in the busy airport lobby. "Somewhere private, please?"

We checked our bags and got our boarding passes approved. Then I followed Edward to the rows of seats where we would wait until our flight was called. He found a couple of seats far enough from the rest of the passengers to ensure our conversation wouldn't be overheard, and then he pulled the vial from his pocket again.

"This is what I borrowed from Carlisle," he said proudly. "It's been down in his lab all this time and I'd forgotten all about it."

Borrowed…now that was a nice euphemism, I thought. "Okay, but what is it?"

He held the vial in front of my face. It was almost completely hidden inside his hand. "Can't you guess? Doesn't it look just a little familiar?"

I shrugged. I couldn't imagine why it should. I pulled the vial from his hand and popped the cap open, squinting down into the oblong tube. I gasped. It wasn't actually green at all, but a pale butterscotch shade. The glass vial itself was tinted the lime green color I'd glimpsed just minutes before.

"It's almost the same color of your eyes; well, after you've hunted that is."

He nodded and gently took the vial from my trembling fingers, replaced the cap and back into his pocket it went. "It's my venom," he said, as if it was the most natural conclusion—one I should've thought of first.

I was glad, then, that he'd taken the vial before telling me; otherwise, it may have slipped from my shocked fingers.

Maybe it was just my idiotic curiosity that the first question out of my mouth was, "Why'd Carlisle have your venom stored away?"

"He keeps a small quantity of all our venom. He's a scientist first and foremost, and he's never given up on his quest of why we are who we are. So he analyses the venom—we're all subtly different, you know—and he gets a few answers. But as he says, the answers just raise more questions…"

"He took this venom from you a while ago, before The Forgotten bit you?" I asked curiously.

"You could say that." He thought for a minute. "I think this batch of venom is around seventy years old."

"And it's still good?" I asked impulsively, and endlessly fascinated.

He grinned and rolled his eyes. "Of course it is. It doesn't have an expiration date—if it did, so would we."

"Oh," I said. It had entered my mind that this same venom with its immortal element would soon be mingling with my own mortal blood. Absently, I brushed the cold scar on my hand. I didn't exactly relish the thought, after all, just last spring I'd had a taste of the burning acidic venom when James had bitten me. How Edward's venom and my blood were going to co-exist in my body was a mystery to me.

Edward tilted my chin up to his face. "You do realize what this means, right? With this older venom, I won't pass on the virus to you. It's one less thing we have to worry about."

I tried to smile. Of course it relieved my mind a little bit. But who was to say I wouldn't get the virus anyway after Edward changed me? The Cullens had been susceptible to the virus…and The Forgotten, too. Edward was seeing things just a little too rosy and it made me nervous; the future was hazy even to Alice.

"I can't believe you're taking such a huge risk," I said, shaking my head. "If the Volturi find out that you came to Volterra knowing full well that you had the virus—They will kill you."

"I prefer to stay optimistic," he replied. "And speaking of optimism, I've had some time to get used to this idea of you becoming a Reformer. I think the idea has merit. I won't have to worry so much about your frailty, or you're being accident-prone."

He interlaced his fingers with mine, cold meshed with warmth. "It's like we both get what we want. And you know, I may not be able to read your mind, but I think I'm pretty good at reading your heart…and your heart is recognizing all the good things you can accomplish with your gift."

I nodded, smiling. I didn't fool myself into thinking it wouldn't be an enormous responsibility, it would be. But if we could strike a balance between what the Volturi wanted from me and what we wanted for ourselves—namely, a life together—and if we could somehow beat this rogue virus, it would be a miracle of our own making.

I leaned in and brushed his lips with mine. "Read my heart, now, Edward Cullen," I whispered against his mouth.

His hands came up and cupped my face on each side, his eyes molten gold as they looked into mine. And then, oblivious to the crowd around us, he kissed me, stealing my breath and any thoughts of Volterra, or the Volturi, or the mutating virus from my head. It seemed an endless freefall where we held only to one another—and for a few short moments let the world be damned.

We pulled apart reluctantly, and only when a woman's voice announced our flight was now boarding.

We were on our way.

***

(Note: I'm slowly catching up on your email. I'm flattered and intrigued by you all—and I think I must have the best readers on this whole site. Love you Guys! –see you tomorrow and thanks for reading. OTM)