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

In the Grip of Twilight

By:

Olivia Tannis Moore

Chapter Fifty One:

Week One, Night Two

Legends

I couldn't believe it I was holding the book in my hands. I thought for certain that Aro had regained possession of it.

I smoothed my hand against the leather cover. "How…?"

"Cora brought it to me. She was in the tunnels when you dropped it," Muriel explained. "She's the one that kept Ezekiel from getting a clean shot at you," she pointed at the long rip in the leg of my jeans.

Thank Goodness for Cora, Demetri murmured.

I remembered the smaller Lycan that had collided with the larger one. It had happened so fast…I'd thought the collision an accident.

Muriel clicked her tongue. "Ezekiel is rash sometimes. He could very well have killed you before realizing who you were. But I'm certain he was pursuing the Captain above all—he's the prize."

Demetri snorted.

Muriel shook her head. "You'll have to be more careful, Captain. I can't protect you from Ezekiel and his pack—to them I'm only a dotty old woman stuck in the Old Ways. They have a price on your head."

Demetri scowled. "What kind of price?"

"Bragging rights for the next millennia," she answered. "What else is there?"

I shook my head. I was missing something very important in their conversation. "Why do the Lycans hate the vampires so much?"

Muriel narrowed her eyes at Demetri. "You haven't told her?"

Demetri shrugged, looking uneasy again.

"Told me what?" I asked Demetri.

"Legends, Bella. It's all nonsense. They're blaming us for The Forgotten's death…and the virus."

Muriel laughed loudly. "The Forgotten? The virus? Those are Ezekiel's excuses—not mine. And you'd better put more credence in the legends, young man. You need to realize that the tide is coming for us all."

I sighed. "What legends, Muriel?"

She leaned back in her chair staring at Demetri. "I suppose I can't expect Him to tell you of the legends when he doesn't believe in the legends himself."

Then she turned her gaze to me and began:

"We came along after the Dark Angels had fallen—to step up and become the protectors of man when the protectors began to devour those they'd sworn to protect. You should've seen them. They were once these shining, glorious creatures…so beautiful, to look upon them would make you weep."

I nodded, thinking of the mosaic in the Chamber of Knowledge. "They still are beautiful," I defended.

Muriel smiled patiently and continued. "In the beginning, we thought it unwise to murder them—after all, they were still creatures of the heavenly realm. So we dealt our own retribution…we ripped their wings from their backs…those magnificent wings they held so dearly, so proudly…every last pair of them we took. But that seemed to make it worse. They grew vengeful…and instead of merely feeding on humans, they began to infect them. Humans then became their pawns, their army."

I glanced back at Demetri. His face seemed carved from stone. But in his eyes there was misery as he looked off into the dark corner of the room. No wonder he didn't want to believe in the legends... they didn't exactly cast the best light on the vampires. And who wanted to be a pawn? I sure didn't.

Muriel seemed to understand his pain. She paused for a moment and then leaned forward across the table and took Demetri's hand in her own. It was a comforting gesture that appeared to rattle him with its sincerity. In that short moment, something passed from Vampire to Lycan that must have been unique, as I watched from the sidelines of somewhere in-between.

Demetri nodded and half-smiled at Muriel. He seemed more relaxed now, as Muriel pulled her hand away and picked up where she left off.

"We grew in numbers. For every vampire they created from their venomous blood, another Lycan sprang up. But we had one major advantage…the only time vampires will come together peacefully in numbers is when their existence is threatened—or maybe on a lesser scale, another momentous event such as when a reformer is born." She smiled at me. "In those dark days, we pressed our advantage. We came down from the hills, out of the valleys…we descended on the Dark Angels and destroyed all but three, who fled underground."

"The Volturi," I whispered.

"Yes, the Volturi," she confirmed. "For centuries they hid, until the vampire numbers began to recover. Then, they built their armies all over again, and scattered them all over the world. But they were not satisfied with this new army. You see, we had begun to pursue them again, and this new army was not as powerful as the old army we had first destroyed. And that's when Aro purposed a treaty. He would destroy the new army—all but a few for his family's protection—for peace amongst us. And it's been a fragile, somewhat shaky peace ever since."

I knew the rest. I was the tool for building the new, more powerful army. I looked into Muriel's eyes. "So why not just kill me?"

***

(Note: I tried not to leave you with a major cliffie, since I won't be updating until Friday. We're now into the last third (or fourth, depending on how often I update the chapters) of the story. Thanks for reading! OTM)