A/N: By now, you propably know that I'm a sucker for quiet character-building moments, so expect a lot of these in this installment. Also, I sort of fixed another few of SMeyer's research fails (names and hairstyles), and added a little bit of characterisation to her main villain (my main hero, btw. Yay, we're going to Volterra!). She never bothered to flesh out anyone, and I thought that super-charging only our friend (frienemy?) Jasper would be dumb, so I'm powering up others, as well, just for the fun of it. Since SMeyer only ever name-dropped a handful of Volturi characters and gave them zilch personality, I'm trying to correct that, as well. If you don't remember the ones she did name-drop, Chelsea is the one that can emotionally bond you to other people, and Corin is the walking happy-pill - that means she makes you content with your situation. The name of Aro's personal bodyguard - the shield lady - is Renata.
I believe that in Aro's case, she was going for politely creepy, but got kooky, harmless wacko instead. I much prefer the Michael Sheen version, in which he is weirdly giggly but also pretty badass. This is not my portrayal, at least not completely, but I do like the idea of a polite, bubbly, excitable yet cold and quietly menacing leader whose demeanour is so generally pleasant, people tend to uderestimate them. That's what I'll try to write in coming chapters.
Seriously, the world-building and characterisation in these books are pretty darn awful, so bringing some logic and rules into this universe (fantasy rules, but rules nonetheless) was overdue and is a lot of fun. I'm not throwing all canon overboard, but I am tweaking it so that it at least becomes internally consistent.
Ah, there's also a mention not only of the Romanian and Egyptian covens (those are canon and really tried to take over the world accoring to the Illustrated Guide), but also of a Russian and a Chinese one. Those are my invention, and yes, they're a jab at SMeyer's obvious belief that Asia doesn't exist. Seriously, in all the books, there is not a single Asian vampire to be found. Boo. There's some pretty awesome vampire lore in several Asian cultures. Check those out if you can.
I hope you enjoy this new exploration of people and places! I know I really love writing these characters. As always, thank you very much for reading and for leaving your opinions in the form of reviews. Please continue to be open and honest about what your thoughts are. I appreciate it.
Chapter Nineteen
1 The fact that Irina was being dragged to Volterra instead of being dismembered and burned on the spot was solely Demetri's accomplishment. He'd risked his own safety even more than he already had by pointing out to Caius that she had chosen to not do anything to actively help the dhampir, that she had even managed to help Leah contact Demetri. The direct result of this had been the acquisition of Jasper and Bella, as well as the death of several Cullens. Demetri's point had been that maybe there was hope of recovery for Irina, who had only been marginally exposed to Renesmee and had been able to at least passively assist those who wished her dead or captured.
Luckily, this had been enough to buy Irina some time…and a free trip to Italy! Woo! Everyone celebrate. She didn't hold out much hope that any of this would last, of course, but at least she'd get to die in Europe. It wasn't Slovakia, and it sure as hell wasn't eleventh-century Kremnica (oh, the memory of Lyubomir walking across the meadow toward her, smiling, sunshine in his light-brown hair), but it was at least the right continent. She regretted the fact that she'd left her sisters behind without a word of goodbye, but that couldn't be helped. Whatever would happen, would happen. At least she'd gotten some kind of revenge for Laurent. That was better than nothing. No need to whine and bemoan her fate now. No, there was no need for anything quite that pathetic. She'd made her bed. Everything that had happened during the past few months had been her own decision, and the consequences were her own fault. So, there was no reason to mope, really, because she had no-one to blame but herself.
She'd wished for revenge and for the downfall of the Cullen coven, and that was exactly what she'd gotten. Funny how even when wishes came true, it was never quite the way one imagined it. There was always a catch, always an unpleasant consequence couldn't have been foreseen. Maybe her wish just hadn't been specific enough. She told herself that she'd be more careful next time.
She didn't really talk much to Chelsea during the trip, even though Chelsea tried a few times to engage her in light-hearted conversation. The whole thing felt like a dream, which reminded Irina of those precious few minutes during which she'd been unconscious, courtesy of Jasper, the psychopathic little bastard. Those had, hands down, been the best few minutes of the past thousand years. Sleep. Actual sleep! The relief was unimaginable, unnameable. No wonder Caius wanted so much to collect Jasper, even though the extent of Jasper's power probably gave him some pause. Irina was pretty sure, however, that with so many exceedingly gifted vampires amongst the Volturi, it was possible to keep Jasper's egocentric and downright nasty shenanigans in check. They had Alec. They had Corin. They had Chelsea. There were others, too, that Irina didn't know about; of course there were. There had to be. No coven had ever been this powerful and intelligently led in all of vampire history. They were still here; all the others were long gone while the Volturi endured. Above anything else, that was to be admired.
The entire trip was unspectacular, as was the drive into Volterra and entering the ancient catacombs below the city that served as the Volturi stronghold. It was an impressive construction, huge and intricate like the world's most confusing labyrinth, impossible to storm, impossible to orient oneself in without extensive knowledge of the place or at least a good map. Chelsea led Irina through endless stone corridors and metal doors and huge stone staircases, down and up and down and left and right and wherever, until Irina had completely lost her way. Usually, she was not this easily disoriented. Maybe a vampire with such a power lived within these walls. Who knew? It wasn't as if they were going to tell her. Other than most of their kin, they were not stupid.
After they walked through yet another door – this time into something resembling an office – they were joined by two guards in snug, dark-grey suits. The room was quadrangular, well-lit, and decorated with a big, mahogany desk, tapestries, and lamps. It was cosy and not at all what Irina had expected.
Behind the desk sat a tall, lean vampire woman who wore a dark-green two-parter and had her lush brown hair pinned up in an artfully lazy bun. At the sight of Chelsea, a warm smile spread across her face. "Hey, there, sweetie! Sorry your trip got cut short," she said, gracefully rising to her feet to greet her friend, who gave her a kiss on each cheek. The woman spoke Italian. She smiled at Irina and held out her hand. "Hi, I'm Gianna."
"Irina," she said feebly, shaking the offered hand once.
Gianna sat down again and re-focussed her attention on Chelsea. "He's already waiting for you."
Chelsea uttered a little laugh, put her hands to her hips, and then heaved a theatrical sigh. "Every single time. And we're actually early!"
"Don't kill the messenger," Gianna said, her smile broadening, and motioned to the door leading out of this room. "Good luck in there." The last bit was directed at Irina, who tried and failed to return the woman's sunny expression.
She hadn't expected any of this, but in all fairness, it wasn't as if she'd ever spent much time picturing what the Volturi stronghold would be like. Hell, she never thought she'd be brought here as a prisoner. That was what she was, and there was no use in kidding herself about it.
"Well, then," Chelsea said, energetically stepping onward, the heels of her black pumps clacking loudly on the stone floor. "Irina, lads: let's go say hi to the boss."
Feeling strangely detached from herself, Irina tried hard not to think about that awful day her maker had been destroyed, that awful day she'd watched little Vasilii burn. It had happened so long ago, and yet, those imagines still haunted her as if the wounds were fresh and bleeding: the men and women in the black cloaks destroying evidence, burning bodies. Demetri, serious as death, tearing Aleksandra limb from limb and tossing her remains into the fire. His friend, the tall and bulky one, ripping off Vasilii's head like it was nothing; to him, it wasn't. Irina could still hear the lovely little boy wailing as he'd been torn from his maker's arms. His pale face, his blond hair, they'd been drenched in blood. Yet, he'd still been thirsty, always thirsty. He hadn't understood. He couldn't. He'd only been a baby of no more than three years. Aleksandra had bitten a human child, had watched over him as his little body decayed and fell apart, as it rearranged itself in the most horrible ways, driving him permanently insane, as his little heart beat its last. She'd done this to a little human child, the most awful thing imaginable, putting him through torment that he'd never be able to forget…all of that because vampire children were cute.
How hard it had been to stand there, just stand there on that fateful last day of the boy's short second life, watching those dark-clad figures burning everything to the ground, killing, tearing apart, cleaning up the mess of Aleksandra's unforgivable crime. Irina still felt her sisters' arms around her, still felt the crushing agony of not being able to weep, of not being able to find any sort of emotional relief. It was so long ago, all so long ago, but the memories never faded, and now that she was here, in the lion's den, she couldn't stop those images from playing before her mind's eye, over and over and over again.
Of course, there were no human responses to tell her that she was nervous or apprehensive or anything of the sort, but by now she knew herself well enough to be able to interpret her own emotions. Warily, she followed Chelsea (and was followed by those guards) into a vast, rectangular, throne-room kind of hall that was furnished with one long wooden table and chairs alongside either longer wall (and made her think of 1950s King Arthur movies). At the far end, on an elevated platform or stage or however that was called, stood a smaller table, and behind that were three pretty huge and ornate chairs. The walls were decorated with genuinely mediaeval-looking tapestries that had probably been hanging there for the past six-hundred years at the very least. The air smelled fragrant, and lamps fashioned to look like chandeliers swung from the ceiling, inundating the room in a pleasant, warm, yellowish light.
Irina registered all of this, but the bulk of her attention was focussed on the single person waiting inside: a man who looked to be in his late thirties to early forties, average-sized, lean, and exceedingly pale, wearing a sharp, black, three-piece suit and a red tie. His relatively short yet unruly mop of dark hair contrasted starkly with the pallor of his skin and the ruby-red of his eyes. He had a slim, but not skinny face that had somehow retained the slight roundness of cheek that always accompanied youth. The bright smile, however, was the most captivating aspect of him, what caught the eye and didn't let it go. It was mesmerising, that smile, lighting up his face as if he were his own source of radiance.
This was a strange admission, but Irina couldn't remember ever having met a vampire this objectively ordinary and yet staggeringly entrancing. Was that a power? Was it simply charisma? Did it matter? Probably yes, but her thoughts were too jumbled, and she was too overwhelmed by everything going on for her to be able to piece it all together and come to a rational conclusion. As it was, she just stood there in the middle of the hallway, gobsmacked, staring at that man out of huge eyes, probably looking dazed and stupidly confused.
"Irina Horváthová," he said, his strong, clear, pleasant voice resounding throughout the room as if that room had been built this majestically only to suit that sound. "I have heard so many wonderful things about you, my dear – so many wonderful things." Relatively slowly, probably so as not to startle her, he crossed the distance to where she and Chelsea were standing and held out a hand to Chelsea without taking his eyes – those eyes! – off Irina. "Charmion, darling girl. I hope your journey wasn't too stressful."
"No, it was fine," she said, and briefly touched his hand with her own. "As you can see, I always enjoy getting out, even if it's only for a little while."
"Indeed, you do. I see it," he said, still smiling, and cast her a little look, before locking eyes with Irina again. "But where are my manners? You must forgive me: we don't get many visitors these days."
"It would help if I knew your name," Irina said monotonously, even forgetting to feel stupid. It was as if that guy could look right into her and just adapt the way he affected her according to what worked best – true charm. It was amazing. She still had no clue whether this was a power or not.
"Let me introduce myself, then," he said. "In ancient times, I used to be known under a purely Etruscan name, but for the past thousand years, I've…let's say I've Italianised it."
"Okay," Irina said. "What do I call you?"
"You can call me Aro," he said, the smile widening, crinkling the skin around his eyes. It looked warm and honest and welcoming and friendly. He held out a hand.
"How do you do?" she replied automatically, reaching out her own.
His grasp was firm, but not overly. The smile turned into something like a grin. "I was doing very well, but now, I am absolutely enthralled."
2 It was already getting dark when Demetri decided to call it a day. They pulled into the car park of the first interstate motel they found. None of the vampires needed sleep, but poor Leah was battered and bruised and still working the vampire venom out of her system. Her neck wound still hadn't healed, either, and she needed to lie down properly and sleep in an actual bed for a whole night.
"You take the luggage and go check in," he told Bella and Jasper, as he got out of the car and very gently closed the driver-side door. "I'm carrying her."
Jasper looked at him as if he were a second away from guffawing. "That's so sweet. Bella and I are gonna give you two lovebirds some space."
Bella just gawped at him and said nothing.
Demetri gave him a withering look as he stepped around the car to the passenger side. The air was chilly and it had started to drizzle. None of this made him any more tolerant of stupid innuendo. "That's very funny. Just don't think that I'll let you out of my sight for a minute."
"How do you think it's gonna look if the four of us ask for one room?" Jasper said, crossing his arms, raising his eyebrows. "Three awake-and-alert white people, two of them male, and an unconscious Native American woman donning a huge bandage on her neck. That won't raise any red flags at all." He snickered. "Profiling is wrong, but it happens, so let's stay grounded in reality, all right, folks? If Bella and I take one room and the two of you another, it will look far less suspicious. We'll just seem like regular tourists on the road – two couples. Nothing to write home about. Also, maybe you should do something to cover that bandage up."
After two seconds of deliberation, Demetri had to admit that the insufferable little shit was right. What was even worse was the fact that Demetri hadn't even thought that any of this might constitute a problem. He nodded. "Okay. Two rooms, then. However, please be reminded that the deal with Caius only stands if you manage to not murder anyone whilst on the road with me. I'd advise against changing your mind about that deal, too: Caius does not take kindly to being betrayed."
"Oh, I have no intention of going back on our deal. I've been searching for meaning in my life ever since I can remember: when I joined the Confederate Army, when I fought for Maria, when I joined the Cullens," Jasper said, pulling up one corner of his mouth in a crooked little smirk. "This is what I've been looking for all my life, son. I want to do something that matters, and being recruited by the vampire government is the highest honour. I won't disappoint, and neither will the lovely and talented Miss Swan. Isn't that right, darling?" He gave Bella a meaningful look.
"That's right," she said, glancing up at Jasper and then at Demetri. "I always wanted to be special. I guess this is the closest I'll ever get to that."
Demetri couldn't pinpoint the exact reason why, but he felt a little like punching those two in the teeth. "Good," he said, instead. The drizzle started morphing into bone fide rain, and the breeze turned into wind. The cold was ungodly; he was chilled to the bone. "If you get thirsty, call me. I'll show you how to feed without killing or turning your prey. Do not go out on your own. Do not draw any unnecessary attention to yourselves. This is not up for debate. I won't accept rationalisations. There are no exceptions whatsoever."
"We should be fine for a few more days," Jasper said, waving off, and started getting their stuff out of the car's boot. "Come on, Miss Swan; let's head inside before the rain ruins my jacket."
Not paying too much attention to them anymore, Demetri carefully opened the passenger side door. Leah was sleeping soundly and snoring softly, her head tilted back. No, she wasn't going to wake up unless he picked her up and dropped her on the asphalt. Ignoring the bitter cold (and still expecting gooseflesh, even though his skin had lost the ability to form that a millennium ago), he pulled off his scarf, carefully wrapped it around Leah's neck, and scooped her into his arms.
The room they got was nice; it was simple, but clean. He gently placed Leah on the bed, took off her shoes, and pulled the thick duvet over her, before turning the one armchair in the room away from the bed and settling down, facing the window. The thick curtains were closed, but that didn't matter. He had some tracking to do, and for that, he needed to focus on nothing but his own thoughts. Also, it was unimaginably rude (not to mention creepy) to watch someone sleep, but it would look weird if he spent the night loitering in the hallway. He needed a break from the other two vampires, as well, at least for a few hours. Besides, it wasn't as if he couldn't still hear them in the adjacent room – regrettably. Their voices had really started to tear at his already frayed nerves. For the next few days, at least, there was no distancing himself from them, which was unfortunate, but couldn't be helped. There was a job to be done, and whining about unpleasantness had never solved a single problem in the history of forever.
3 "This has got to be the strangest day of my entire life," Bella said, after Jasper closed the door to their room. She was standing by the window, but watching him place what little luggage they had on the thickly carpeted floor.
He looked at her, wearing an expression she interpreted as incredulous. "Really? This is stranger than finding out vampires exist, than finding out werewolves exist, than marrying a vampire, than giving birth to a freaky hybrid, than turning into an undead abomination that leads an unholy existence as a human-leeching parasite?"
"Yes," she said, enjoying the feeling of not being confused or in doubt at all. This emotional callousness and the tranquillity were a bliss, even if they did come at the cost of many human lives. There was a time and a place to ponder the moral implications of her actions, and Bella had never been the type to do so if it reflected badly on her. "I never had much of a life. When I met Edward, I was dazzled by the sparkle and wanted to be like him: young and beautiful and filthy rich. I projected those desires on him and called it love. Today, that illusion was completely shattered. I just spent hours in the same car as the man who tore off my husband's head and threw it in a fire, and I don't care." She tilted her head slightly to the side, taking in the eerie and rather inappropriate look of glee on Jasper's scarred face, not being bothered by his demeanour at all. "I never loved him. I didn't even know him. Now, there's no way I can pretend that I ever did."
"That's what's weirding you out?" he said, making a face, as if the mere notion were the most ridiculous thing ever conceived.
Jerkily, she shook her head. All around them, in the other rooms, were people, and she could hear them move and talk and watching television and showering and eating and walking arguing drinking everything all at once. She could hear Leah snoring. She could hear the rain and the wind and the traffic noises wafting over from the interstate. Far off, she could hear a dog barking, a fly buzzing, leaves rustling lowly. She heard it all at the same time with perfect clarity, and it didn't bother her. This was heaven. Yes, she was a monster, but like this, it felt good. Deliberations about morality would only drag her down, such as thoughts regarding right and wrong and life and death and the possibility that her soul had moved on after she stopped being human. Why would she even want to have a soul? If she still had one, she'd go straight to hell for all the horrifying things that she had done, and that was definitely a prospect she absolutely had no desire to contemplate.
"No," she said. "What I find odd is the fact that I feel liberated. I feel free. I can't lie to myself anymore, not after all that's happened ever since I died, and it feels like a huge weight's been lifted off my shoulders. I can't twist reality to suit my own needs any longer, and just letting go of that is like being rid of a decade-long headache." She made herself shrug, which was simpler than putting every single thought and emotion into words. "I can't describe it to you."
"Ever heard that little nugget of wisdom, 'the truth will set you free'?" In a dizzying flash, he was right in front of her, cupping her face in a crushing grip. A lovely, spellbinding little smile was curving up the corners of his mouth, making him look both entertained and smug. "This is exactly like that."
As slowly as she managed, she raised her hands and closed them around his wrists, as far as her fingers could reach. "Why are you being so nice to me?"
He snickered. "I'm not being nice."
"Supportive, then. You're the only one who's been giving it to me straight ever since I managed to not be completely helpless in this body anymore. Why?" Like this, being so close to him, it was easy to block everything else out: the room, the people, the world – even herself. It was amazing.
"Well, for one, I can sympathise with how it feels to be new-born. None of the others had as much experience with it as me, and none of the others cared to dwell on the awful memories of dying, turning, and waking up as a vampire," he said, still smirking, not breaking eye-contact, not blinking. "I think the main reason, however, is that I can very much sympathise with the fact that you're a lot like me in so many ways."
"You enjoy witnessing other people's pain," she said. "I don't."
"I'd counter that your absolute indifference might be even more morally questionable, but nobody's perfect," he said, gently brushed a wayward strand of her hair behind her ear, and then let go of her, although he stayed right where he was. "It would be boring, anyway – perfection."
"Like you got bored of Alice? I can see one very obvious similarity between you and me: I didn't care about Edward dying. You didn't care about Alice's death."
Again, he raised his eyebrows. "Is there a question somewhere in there?"
"No. I just don't want to become a disposable pawn in one of your schemes." She scrutinised him, trying to gauge his reaction, but all she read was serene amusement.
"That is entirely up to you, darling," he said, cracking a smile, reaching out to touch the side of her face. "Don't lie to me, don't double-cross me, and don't try to mould me into something I'm not. If you can keep to those three simple little rules, we're good."
Looking at him like this, breathing in the sweet cinnamon scent of his skin, she wasn't only reminded of the feeding trip they'd made together, but also of a particularly poignant conversation they'd had recently. It felt like a hundred years had gone by in the interim. "Do you remember when you told me that I was only playing up the guilt to make myself look noble?"
He blinked at her in puzzlement once, then laughed. "That's…not quite how I put it."
"But it was what you were thinking." She waited, but he said nothing. "My point exactly. Do you remember what I told you about why I was afraid to feed on humans again?"
"Sure. You said that you weren't afraid of the guilt, but that you feared the pleasure of the hunt and the kill might be so great, you'd simply stop caring. You were afraid you'd enjoy turning into a complete and unapologetic monster." He playfully tugged on one strand of her hair. "Is that what happened?"
"I think so, yes," she said quietly, reached out, and very lightly traced one of his scars with her fingertips, from his right temple over his eyebrow. "I also think that spending this much time talking to you is only accelerating and exacerbating my detachment from humanity." After a moment's hesitation, she added, "Because I have never encountered anyone that is so far detached from humanity as you are – no offense."
"None taken." There was a spark in his eyes. "Does that scare you?" His voice was hardly more than a whisper.
"No," she said, not needing to think about it for a single second. "I know that's bad. I know it, but the more I talk to you, the less I give a damn about holding on to whatever little is left of human Bella. She wasn't a nice person by anyone's standards, but she wasn't a monster, either. Now, I'm cutting off the last ties I had to her, and I don't even care. In fact, to be perfectly candid, I couldn't care any less if I tried."
"Nice is seriously overrated, as trite as that might sound," he returned, took her hand, and gave it a squeeze so hard that it hurt. She didn't flinch, though, and his smirk morphed into a grin. "Also, I've got a very effective solution to this little predicament, sweetheart: if talking to me is what makes you feel uneasy, then we can quit talking so much. Silence is golden, after all."
If she'd still had a living heart, it would probably be thundering by now. This was all so strange. Her thoughts were racing, but her body was weirdly quiet. Still, there was something happening, something…different. Her mouth was dry and her throat burned, even though she wasn't thirsty. She looked up into that strangely fascinating face of his and, for the first time since dying, she felt a smile taking hold of her face without her express permission. It was incredible. It was almost like being human again.
"I think you're right," she said, and squeezed his hand back, as hard as she could, making him flinch. What was that she was feeling? Contentment? Joy? Exhilaration? It must be that one. She recognised it. "I think you're right about everything."
4 Close to dawn, Charlie Swan woke up from his uneasy sleep. Luckily, Jacob was already awake, because Barbie needed to hunt and someone needed to watch over Nessie, who still slept like an angel. Even if Barbie hadn't rudely prodded Jacob with her foot, he wouldn't have missed her departure, because he hadn't been able to catch much shut-eye, anyway. There were so many things going through his head. These days, there were always two sides in him, warring: the old and sensible Jacob who hated vampires and wanted nothing more than to turn back time and be home with his family; the new Jacob, whose sole purpose was to keep Renesmee safe and happy.
For example, if he thought about what Leah had done, his mind had two responses: it cheered her on and, at the same time, it cursed her to the deepest pits of hell. Go, Leah, old Jacob shouted. Fuck you, Leah, you traitorous piece of trash, new Jacob whined. She'd aligned herself with a European vampire, had allowed that vampire to infect her with venom (ew, by the way), just so she could resist Jacob's Alpha command. On one hand, the lengths she'd go to in order to achieve her goals were admirable. On the other hand, how could she have abandoned her own brother like that, and Jacob himself, who was also her family? The worst aspect of this was her abandonment of Nessie, though, and what she really thought of her, what she'd told that leech. All of this he had seen in her mind when they'd both been wolves. He didn't like to admit this even to himself, but it stung, her hatred and her disgust and her pity. It stung like a bitch.
Charlie started moving and groaning, dragging Jacob out of his ridiculous emo fit. He opened his eyes and inhaled sharply, before grimacing and gingerly touching his bandaged forehead with his fingertips. "Damn." He blinked, looked about, found Jacob. His eyes went wide. Then, he blew out a heavy breath and covered his face with his hands. "Aw, crap. Don't tell me all that stupid bullshit was real."
"Afraid it was, Chief," Jacob said, ready to jump up and protect the soundly sleeping Nessie at the first sign of trouble. "Sorry about your head."
"That wasn't you; it was that weird alien thing that kind of looked like my daughter," Charlie muttered, dropped his hands, and laboriously pushed himself up into a sitting position. When Jacob tried to lend a helping hand, Charlie waved off. He was pale and had dark rings under his eyes, but looked…okay, considering. Sort of. "Now I know why your dad was so squeamish when Renée and I went to talk to him. The Cullens are frigging vampires and you're a werewolf. I wouldn't exactly be volunteering that kind of information, either."
Charlie's deadpan reaction to discovering a whole new world within a world was so awesome, Jacob could hardly keep from slow-clapping, Charles Foster Kane-style (and no, thinking about his sister Rachael's favourite movie didn't help ease his conscience at all. What a ridiculous notion!). "I'm sorry you got dragged into this."
"Apparently not sorry enough to not haul me into the woods with you, the Hale girl, and this…doll thing." Charlie grimaced and pointed at Nessie with a quick move of his chin. "I guess that's the parasite that killed my daughter. Billy was right on the money, it turns out. What the hell is that thing? Looks like someone threw Bella and the Cullen kid into a blender, then baked the results and drowned it in a bathtub's worth of sugar icing."
Jacob ignored the stab of anger piercing his gut at the unflattering description as best as he could. After all, poor Charlie had been through a lot, and being snarky was his way of coping. "Renesmee," he said through clenched teeth. What a sweet name for such a sweet girl. There was nothing wrong with her – nothing at all. She was absolutely flawless. "Renesmee," he repeated quietly, awed. The sound of her name alone was enough to mollify him.
"Bless you."
"No, that's her name!" Jacob snapped, indignant, trying hard to not be seriously offended by Charlie's incredulous look. "She's your granddaughter, and she's the most precious person in the entire goddamn universe!"
Charlie's frown deepened. He edged away a little. "O…kay. Uh…listen, kid, uh…you got some water on you?"
The anger wheezed out of Jacob like air out of a punctured balloon. He exhaled sharply and ran his fingers through his dark, short hair. "Man, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to snap at you. You have no idea what's going on, and none of this is your fault." He shook his head. "Sorry about the kidnapping, too. We kind of need an insurance policy against the assholes who want us dead."
Charlie's eyes narrowed. All colour drained out of his face. He snorted derisively, rubbed at his eyes, cleared his throat. When he faced Jacob again, his eyes were bloodshot, but he was calm and composed. "Glad to be of use. Guess my friends weren't worth saving, but why complain about the little things."
"Here's the water," Jacob said tonelessly, as he reached inside the leather backpack and pulled out a plastic bottle.
"Thanks."
A few minutes went by in awkward, heavy silence. Finally, Jacob couldn't take it anymore. He said, "Listen, Chief, you need to understand that I only-"
"Jacob?"
Both Jacob and Charlie froze and immediately turned to the owner of the beautiful, timid little voice. Jacob's heart flooded with warmth. It was all he could do not to sweep her into a hug and never letting her go again. Who needed sunshine? Nessie was awake.
Smiling broadly, he said, "Good morning, honey. Did you sleep well?"
Nessie's big brown eyes (Bella's eyes, always Bella's eyes) found Charlie's. "Are you my grandfather?"
Charlie went even paler. His own eyes were huge. "I, uh…" He coughed into his free hand. "I…yeah. I suppose I am."
The most radiant, beautiful, captivating smile lit up Nessie's perfect features. She reached out, and said, "Take my hand, grandfather. Take my hand and you will see."
5 When Leah woke up from the deepest, blackest sleep of all time, she at first had no idea where she was or how much time had gone by. The first one wasn't even a cliché; she'd never seen this tacky motel room (because obviously, that's what it was) in her entire life. She was lying on a huge bed, fully clothed, under heavy covers, and she had slept like a baby. Hell, this hadn't been sleep, it had been unconsciousness. The wonderful feeling of being rested, finally rested, outweighed the stinging in her neck, the heaviness of her limbs, her growling stomach, and the question of how she'd got in that bed in the first place.
Yeah, well, it wasn't that hard to answer that one. Her vampiric partner in crime had pulled a plush armchair to the big window, had turned it away from the bed, and was sitting there like a statue, facing the drawn curtains. She propped herself up on her elbows and opened her mouth to say something, but he was quicker.
"They're at the Mexican border."
She yawned, rubbed at her yes, yawned again, and said, "Mexico. Lovely. I don't even have a passport."
"I don't think they'll even check," he said, got up from the chair, and raced to the foot of the bed in a motion so quick, it was hardly even there. "How are you feeling?"
"I'm good," she said, trying hard to resist the urge to scratch her neck. "Thanks, by the way…for this. None of you need to rest, but I did. I do." She then snickered and rolled her eyes at her own silliness. "Thank you for not staring at me while I was snoring and drooling all over the pillow, either."
The corners of his mouth curved up in a little smile. "You're very welcome, though I feel I must point out that what I did was nothing but common courtesy."
"What is it with you trying so hard to make me like you? That's not how it's supposed to go," she said, playful, threw the covers off, and swung her legs out of bed. "And you left my socks on, too. Nice one; I tend to get cold feet."
He arched an eyebrow. "Really?"
"No, but I couldn't think of anything wittier to say," she said, and yawned again. "Jeez. Hey, did you see a vending machine or something outside? I'm kind of hungry. Also, I hate to ask you this, I really do, but where the fuck are Mickey and Mallory Knox?"
It took a second for the penny to drop, but when it did, he laughed. It was a strangely pretty sound. "Not killing anyone. I made sure they got into their heads that it wouldn't really go that well for them if they did." He jabbed a thumb behind himself. "They're in the next room."
"Yay," she said, deadpan, stood up, and stretched. "Well, at least you got a break from them for a whole night."
His expression grew pained. "Not really. The wall wouldn't be thick for a human, let alone a vampire."
"Oh." Wondering what exactly that implied and deciding she had no intention of finding out if it implied anything, she pressed her knuckles to her lips and cleared her throat. "So, uh…I'm gonna go look for a vending machine."
Waving off, he said, "No, no. I'll go get you something more decent to eat than a bag of crisps. You just stay here and rest. It's going to be a long day." He was halfway out the door when he added, "And before you complain and tell me that you don't need a nurse, yes, I am going to dress your wound before we leave." Then, he was gone.
Leah stared at the door for a few seconds, snickered, shook her head, and went to take a shower.
6 About half an hour later, she was sitting cross-legged on the bed, eating a sandwich, whilst he was inspecting her neck-wound.
"It's almost closed. I'm going to disinfect and bandage it again."
"Thank you, Florence Nightingale," she said, mouth half-full. "You actually are a good nurse, by the way. You know how to cook, how to clean wounds, how to hold the hand of a werewolf who's got vampire venom in her blood, how to put the clothes back on a person who just got mauled by her own brother, how to carry a girl around like luggage, how to tuck said girl in and manage to not be creepy about it."
"I managed to not be creepy? Incredible. And they say chivalry is dead." He worked swiftly, and an uncomfortable couple of minutes later, he was done and back on the armchair, looking at her. It was hard to put a finger on what it was exactly, but he looked a little troubled.
"What?" She shrugged, irritated. "What is it?"
He shook his head. "Nothing. I'm just wondering why Jacob and Rosalie are taking the dhampir and Chief Swan to Mexico. What's in Mexico?"
"Maybe it's just a stop on their way south?"
Again, he shook his head. "No, I don't think so. I have the distinct feeling that that's where they're going to gather up whatever army they can gather up on short notice. Think about it for a moment: it's densely populated, it's a country that faces serious socio-economic troubles, it's teeming with people from all over the world – making it a haven for rogue vampires – and it has the dubious honour of having been the place where the worst vampire wars in history occurred. They can't hope to shake me, so that can't be it, and it's not in the nature of dhampirs to run forever, be they the powerful variant or not-so-powerful ones. They want to be loved by all. They need to be stationary in order to gather acolytes. They're definitely planning to make a stand."
"So…you already got your answer."
"But they don't know anyone there. They don't know anyone anywhere except for the Denali clan in, well, Denali. That's in the other direction. Why didn't they take off north? It would have been closer, and they would already have two more allies. Like this, they don't have anyone, and they'll be in a place that's unfamiliar to them. I don't see the advantage."
Leah swallowed down the last of her sandwich, wiped her lips with the napkin that'd come with it, and said, "I'm pretty sure they have a plan, and whatever it is, it's not good for us."
"No." He looked at her gravely. "No, it won't be."
There was no telling whether this was what was bothering him, and so she decided to ask, "Are you this worried because Re-name-me got that scarily powerful in such a short period of time? Because damn, that call of Cthulhu she screamed out must've been something else, according to Sam."
The reference made him smile a little, but it looked tired. "It usually takes until they've reached physical maturity for whatever powers they may have to get really strong, and mostly, they're not that powerful – not even close. Some of them are, but we've always managed to catch them before they could wreak too much havoc. We had some close calls, though, where we needed to bring in the cavalry. The big guns. Our trump card." He looked down at his pale hands, which were neatly folded on his lap. "I lost a few good friends to one of those creatures because we were too late. We didn't recognise the danger in time. They got infected. There is no cure for that – not that we know of, at least. We tried helping them, but nothing worked. It was awful."
Her shoulders slumped. She felt heavy. It was a typical Leah-ism, as her mom called it, wasn't it? She'd be abrasive and rude and explode at any little thing, but forget to realise that there were other people around who had feelings, too. Who had a life. Who had history. Not only had he already lost people, but now there was Irina, as well, who probably was infected for life. "I'm sorry." It didn't even feel weird, being sympathetic toward a vampire.
"Thank you." Again, he gave her that tired little smile, making her wonder what it must really be like, living for a thousand years without sleeping even once. It wasn't a very pleasant thought, to say the least.
She cleared her throat. "So, uh…what's the cavalry like? The big guns, your trump card for eliminating brain-eating death-babies before they create an unstoppable army of fanatical zombies?"
"Well," he said, straightening his posture, "that would be our head of state, Aro."
Frowning, she said, "Isn't he the dude who can read minds by touch?" Who had told her that again? Jacob? She couldn't recall. Not that it made an ounce of difference.
The look he gave her was hard to interpret, but something about her words must have struck him funny. "Yes," he said, after a couple of seconds. "He can see every thought you've ever had by touching your skin for a split second. That's not all, though. You see, vampires develop their abilities – if they have them – over time. Aro is what I would call a people person."
Her frown steepened. "Like a televangelist?"
He snorted laughter that sounded so spontaneous, so…so…alive, it was hard to keep seeing him as an undead monster who lived on other people's blood. "In a sense. The ones who have a gift already had a similar talent as humans. From what I know, he was someone intensely charismatic who had an uncanny ability to see right through people and then just adjusted his conduct accordingly, so he could get them to do what he wanted."
"Oh, that kind of guy," she said flatly. "I know the type. That's what we in the trade call a con-artist."
"Probably, but you wouldn't be able to build the largest vampire coven in history and keep it running for three thousand years, turning it into the ultimate vampire authority, without a little manipulative charm," he said, still smiling. "The mind-reading is a by-product of that, really. Someone who can charm people is always able to read them, somehow, first, and act appropriately. That's what he did as a human, and that's what he does now, only in a much more powerful manner. It only got stronger over time, his power, as he honed it."
"So, basically, he just dazzles people into compliance after cold-reading them. Sounds like a swell guy."
That brought a clearly disapproving little frown to his face. "We need leadership, Leah, and we need leadership that is effective. He can deal with basically anyone, and he needs to. You've met a good number of vampires: we're stupid, arrogant, homicidal wankers who need to be kept in check for our own good – not to mention the good of everybody else."
She just blinked at him for a few seconds. It was so weird to hear him swear. "Okay, then. Let me see if I got this right: if all else fails, you call in the emperor, who can then charm and manipulate the spawn into jumping into a volcano?"
Snickering, he said, "It's a little more complicated than that, but basically, yes. There's no guarantee that this would work on all dhampirs, especially one as powerful as Renesmee, but as a last resort, if all else fails, it's what we would try."
"Why the hell doesn't this dude then show up at all death-baby sightings in the first place?"
He looked at her as if she'd asked a particularly silly question, and said, "Because no government would send their president to the front lines of the battlefield and leave a power vacuum at the capital city unless absolutely necessary. We need him to be our emperor, as you so aptly put it. There's enough chaos around as it is. Vampires have already tried to enslave humans and set themselves up as gods: Romanians, Egyptians, Chinese, Russians. The death-toll was unimaginably high. It's only because of Aro that these maniacs were stopped and brought to justice, and that's just me mentioning the over-the-top evil and megalomaniacal ones.
"There are countless others who kill and destroy and make a spectacle of themselves unwittingly, without any higher ambitions. Then, there are vampires like the Cullens, who think they're morally superior for not eating humans and who'll flaunt that supposed superiority in everyone's faces, drawing too much attention to the fact that they are clearly not human. Arrogance and the belief in one's own superiority and invincibility are often more than enough ingredients for a recipe of pure disaster. Imagine if we didn't have this kind of competent, powerful, and insightful person leading the only authority a vampire will recognise. Let's just say that the results would be rather cataclysmic."
Yep, that made sense. "When you put it like that…" She trailed off and sighed. "Okay, then, Captain Exposition. Thank you for explaining vampire politics to me. I really appreciate it. I'm gonna go get ready, now, and then we can hit the road. I don't think I'll be-"
There was a crisp knock on the door. They both snapped to attention. After breathing in once, Demetri said, "It's them," and flash-ran to the door to let Jasper and Bella in.
"We'd like to thank you for the helpful exposition, as well," Jasper said, cracking a merry and very smug smirk that made Leah want to kick him in the face. It was bad enough that everywhere he went, he stank up the place like a thousand cinnamon incense sticks burning at once. "I'd like to add my own two cents to story-time, now."
Leah heaved a heavy, theatrical, tired sigh. "The fuck are you on about, Creepula?" She was so not in the mood for his bullshit.
"You have no right to keep calling him that," Bella said snootily, for the first time actually emoting slightly through speech ever since murdering all those innocent campers. "You're no less repulsive to us than we are to you."
Leah smiled sweetly and gave her the finger. "Bite me."
"I thought that was his job," Jasper said, giving Demetri a pointed look. The latter only rolled his eyes.
After quietly seething and gnashing her teeth together for a few seconds, whilst everyone else just wisely kept silent, Leah said, "Just spill it, asshole, and stop it with the melodrama. Nobody wants to hear it; nobody cares."
Jasper's smirk became a grin. How he loved doing that, the asshole. Christ on a cracker. "You're gonna love this," he said, and looked from Demetri to Leah and back again. "I know what Renesfail and friends are doing in Mexico."