A/N: I'm currently facing my semester finals, so expect less irregular updates in August. Meanwhile, just a heads-up that I tweaked the backstory of someone a little, because the canon version was not to my liking. It's only a detail, but just be aware. Also, there's a Coldplay reference buried somewhere. Thank you very much for reading and reviewing. I hope you'll enjoy this outing, as well. The plot thickens! Stay tuned.

Chapter Twenty-Three

1 "So, I clearly passed your test," Irina told Aro. He'd led her away from that terrible corridor of 'precious rarities' and to something resembling a reading room from an eighteenth-century English country estate: beige and textured wallpaper, thick curtains covering non-windows (this was a subterraneous keep, after all, but nice of them to keep appearances), bookshelves made of dark and heavy wood, and comfortable, patterned sofas circling a round, little table. It was nice. Irina had tried to keep up as he led her there, but of course, she knew that such an effort was completely futile. At least she wasn't in one of those ghastly cells. One had to be grateful for the little things in life.

"Indeed, you did," he said, smiling warmly at her. He was sitting opposite her on the smaller sofa, whilst she occupied the larger one. Both were flanked by armchairs. All in all, it was a nice little corner of a terrifying stronghold. Well, at least they made an effort to live comfortably.

The same could not be said for the girl in the cage.

Just thinking about her made Irina feel like running again. Of course, she didn't even try. It wasn't as if she weren't a fighter – she wouldn't have survived for a millennium if she gave up easily – but she knew when to call it quits because resisting had zero chance of success. She was at the heart of the highest vampire authority. Butting heads on purpose with who was basically vampire Caesar wouldn't only be a waste of time, but criminally stupid, too.

She said, "I would like to know who she is."

His smile froze a little. "Hm," he made, rested his elbows on his thighs, and briefly ran his pale fingers through his dark and unruly mop of hair. "You do understand why we keep that thing…her like that, don't you?"

"I do," she said, trying and failing to not think of the girl, of Renesmee, of Vasilii. "I also understand why you'd keep a live dhampir in your fortress, but…" Unsure of how to phrase her questions (so, so many questions!) in a proper manner, she trailed off.

His smile thawed again, and he leaned back in his seat, crossing his legs. If not anything else, the effort to seem non-threatening at least was admirable. There was no physical need to lounge around on couches, and yet, he did it to keep her mind at ease. Either this was a way of making her lower her guard, or a genuine attempt to be friendly – well, as friendly as suited his purpose, but who was keeping score? Certainly not Irina.

"You're wondering why we didn't pick one up that wasn't as threatening," he said, "or, alternatively, why we didn't simply replace it…her after we found a less powerful specimen. We have, by the way. There are three in the Amazon that we have recently discovered and that will have to be taken care of soon – powerless when compared to Renesmee or to Fiora. They have influence over a limited amount of people, but they seem to have been around for over a century, and we've only now heard of their existence. There's not much of a hurry."

"Fiora," Irina echoed, savouring the name for a moment. It was lovely. The girl probably had been, as well, once upon centuries ago. She probably still could be.

"A common name during the time of its…of her birth," he said, his tone and expression wry and strangely wistful. "She is a product of the love between one of my people and a local human."

"Oh." Irina arched her expressive eyebrows. "You probably didn't even know what was happening until it was too late, did you?"

"We did not," he said, chuckled, and shook his head. "I have spent much time wondering what I could have done differently, how I could have prevented the disaster from striking. I asked myself if I was even still fit to be a leader."

"I felt her presence in my head so strongly," she said, inhaling a useless lungful of air that of course brought no relief. "I don't want to come across as condescending – really, I don't – but I think that you did all in your power. Sometimes, all we have is not enough."

"I agree with you, my dear," he said, his eyes trained on her. There was no visible hostility in them, but then again, he probably only ever let people see what he wanted them to see. "Pointing fingers is quite useless. Learning from mistakes has ever been the more prudent course of action. I like to believe that all of us have learned from our mistakes."

"But who is she?" There was an undercurrent of annoyance in her voice. Naturally, she hadn't missed the fact that he'd elegantly evaded her question.

After just returning her look for a couple of seconds, he laughed – not a chuckle, not a giggle: laughter. It sounded merry and made him look oddly boyish. "This is something I admire about you, lovely Irina," he finally said. "You may be afraid for your life, but you don't let that hold you back. That's true courage."

Thinking back on her track record, she wasn't too sure about that.

When no reply came, he smiled again, and said, "I'd argue that who she is matters little in the grand scheme of things. After all, Renesmee's personality makes no difference and does not detract from the fact that she needs to be eliminated."

Maybe it could. "All right. Fair enough. Still, I would like to know why her…and yes, I know that I'm in no position to demand anything of you."

A subtle frown creased his otherwise smooth forehead, and he raised his hands in a typical now-hold-your-horses gesture. "Please, don't think that you are nothing but some lowly captive, dear. You're our guest, and now, you're my research assistant, as well." The smile returned. It was mesmerising. No matter what he said or did, she was pretty sure that he could charm most about anyone with that smile.

Despite herself, she relaxed. "So…I assume that she infected people who mattered to you."

A shadow crossed his face. Again, he chuckled dryly. Again, he briefly looked away from her. "It…she corrupted many. None of them could be saved, even though we tried. All of them had to be eliminated for the sake of everyone else, for the sake of the entire world." He locked eyes with her again. There was something pained in them, something haunted. "One of them was my sister."

2 "I really don't get your current abstinence deal," Leah told Demetri. She no longer tried to hide her irritation. It was almost show-time, and the other leeches had already swarmed out to get themselves into position. "If you flip out-"

"I won't flip out," he told her emphatically. There was an undercurrent of irritation there, too.

Yeah, hunger made everyone cranky. They were both sitting by the kitchen table. She was eating a sandwich. "I'm sorry I'm pestering you like this, but it's a life and death situation out there, and-"

"I can't risk it."

She wiped her lips with the back of her hand and frowned at him. "What's that when it's at home with its feet up?"

A few seconds ticked by as he just looked at her, his expression unreadable. At length, he said, "I can't help being a parasite, as you would say, but I don't kill my victims. None of the vampires from my coven do if we can help it. That, however, requires some planning – a lot of planning, actually. We don't have time for that now. I can either endure the discomfort until tomorrow, or I can go and murder a human being for food. It's one or the other, and I don't want to be forced to pick alternative two."

"Oh," she said, and blinked at him, feeling sheepish and stupid and nosy, only just refraining from asking what 'planning' even meant. Yes, given the circumstances, she was entitled to know why he was acting – or better not acting – like this, but still, pestering people until they gave up the desired information was one of her more famous Leah-isms. It was commonly known as 'bullying'. "I won't ask you about the specifics, but isn't there a way you could-"

"No. I told you, I need some time to prepare if I want to prevent killing the person, turning the person, or revealing the existence of vampires to them. I realise that you can't know how difficult and complicated vampire feeding can be when the vampire in question does his or her best not to be a murderer, but please don't make me go into detail, here."

There was a pang in her stomach. Man, she could sometimes be so obnoxious. Christ on a cracker. "I won't."

He only nodded once in acknowledgment. "Suffice it to say that I don't want to add to the casualties any more than I already have." A tired little smile curved up the corners of his mouth. "I'm sure you can sympathise."

Images of dead vampire kids – dead by her hands – popped up before her mind's eye, unbidden. She shuddered. Her stomach lurched. "Yeah," she said quietly, looking down at her hands. Ignoring the knot in her throat, she made herself look into his pitch-black eyes again. They made such an odd contrast to his pasty skin. "I suppose I'm off the menu, right? With my poison blood?"

His eyebrows shot up. "Excuse me?"

Scratching her neck and feeling weirdly self-conscious, she shrugged. "I mean, before you conk out…but I'm no good to you, anyway. It was just a stupid idea. Forget about it."

"No," he said. "You're not poisonous to me. I just…"

For some reason, that made her snicker. "What, my blood tastes like McDonald's to a human's Four Seasons?"

He smiled again. "I'll ignore that, since it's decidedly not proper to talk about how a person's blood tastes. I was thinking more in the direction of how it would make both of us monumentally uncomfortable."

Okay. Yuppie Vamp had a bit of a point, there.

Still, she straightened up her posture and returned his look squarely. "Never mind that. If it works, do it. I already know your secret, and I'm pretty sure that you can't simply kill me by accident if you get carried away."

"You know what'll happen if I bite you," he said, clearly doubtful. "If we're lucky, there won't be any fighting, but we shouldn't count on that."

She shrugged. "Then don't bite me. I'll cut my wrist. If you can keep your fangs from popping out…"

"I'm sure there's a metaphor in there, somewhere," he said, smiling a little.

Despite the fact that her heart was pounding and her stomach was in knots, she had to giggle. "There he goes, a thousand-year-old, grown-ass man, turning an innocent remark into an innuendo. You're the literal millennial, aren't you, buddy-boy?" She sighed. "Seriously, though: can you do it, or not?"

He just kept scrutinising her with that half-amused, half-doubtful expression he was so fond of, until she almost couldn't take it anymore. What was going on with him? There clearly was something on his mind, something he didn't want – or couldn't – share with her. Yeah, well, whatever it was, it was probably need-to-know, and she was involved enough as it was. Besides, they may have gone through some pretty intense shit together, but they'd only known each other for a very short while, and he was a vampire. She had a tendency to keep forgetting that, as strange as that notion might be. Maybe that was simply due to the fact that he'd been more kind and respectful to her during the past few days than her werewolf pals ever tried to be. The thought was at the same time depressing and comforting, even though that didn't make any sense.

But then again, when did her emotions ever make sense, anyway?

"I'm not a new-born but, as you so aptly put it, a grown-ass man. Since you're no vampire, let me put it this way for your convenience: I'm a lot better at controlling my physical responses than a new-born – like a thirty-year-old to a teenager," he said, smirking a little. "I can do it."

She blinked at him for two seconds and then guffawed. "You're on fire today, aren't you?" Maybe he was just trying to ease the tension and awkwardness. There was always that. If that was the case, Leah had to give him kudos. She'd never been particularly talented at lighting the mood. No, she'd always been way more apt at adding fuel to the fire. Well, everyone had a skill. "Okay, then. Right. If we're really gonna do this, then we better do it right away. We got places to go and people to trick. Also, I might end up changing my mind, because this is a little bit insane."

After just looking back at her for another long-ish moment, he rose to his feet in a flash, and stood by her chair a split second later. "As you wish," he said, and held out his hand. "Just remember that this was your idea."

"Ain't winning any prizes for smart ideas any time soon," she said, only half-joking, took the hand, and allowed him to help her up. "But what the hell, right? Like that song goes: if you never try, then you'll never know."

The smirk grew a littler broader, bordering on a grin. "Oh, there's definitely a metaphor somewhere in there."

3 "Are the humans all in place?" Jacob asked Barbs, who – he had to admit – had much more acute senses than he did. Somehow, this made him think of Bella, who'd spent three whole months learning how to see and hear and move, and who was still doomed to sensory collapse if she did not regularly drink blood from the vein of a living creature. Well, she'd wished for eternal life and youth and wealth, just as he'd wished to be connected to her forever, and Leah had always wished for excitement and adventure that would alleviate the boredom of everyday life. Hadn't they all gotten what they wished for? In a sense, at least? They should all have read the fine print. Too late for all that, now. Too late for all of them. There was no going back. There was no shoving the proverbial genie into the stupid goddamn bottle again.

"All where they should be." Barbie was holding Nessie, who was clinging to the leech as if her precious life depended on it.

Jacob grudgingly admitted to himself that today, it did. They were still in their suite, but soon, he'd have to leave to go talk to Bella. The odds of her not planning to double-cross her own daughter were slim to none, but Jacob and Barbie had it all figured out. With Charlie hostage and all the human lives at stake, there was no way that Bella or any of her posse would be able to outwit them. Everything was going to end well. He could feel it.

He could feel it. Of course he could.

"Then we've got nothing to worry about," he said, and gently caressed Nessie's rich, dark-brown locks. "It'll all be okay, my little darling. Sweetheart. It'll all be okay." Of course it would. It had to. There was no room left for failure.

4 "We'll have to time it perfectly," Jasper said, looking back and forth from Bella to Maria and back again – at the latter through the rear-view mirror. Just to confuse any attempts by Rosalie to locate them via their scent, they'd been driving around town, using this opportunity to scout out the area and – if any of Renesmee's party were watching – throw some dead herrings for good measure. "They'll be expecting a trap, yes, but they won't be able to anticipate what we've actually got planned for them. The moment we start, we have to act quickly." He paused, but no reply came. "We'll also have to accept the fact that there will be human casualties. This is pretty much unavoidable at this point, girls."

"As long as Demetri doesn't see a problem, I don't see a problem," Maria said, lazily uncrossing and crossing her legs, flashing a broad smile at Jasper.

Bella, who was riding shotgun, only rolled her eyes. She said, "They might kill my dad if we go through with our plan."

"They won't," Jasper said, and comradely patted her thigh. "They'd be losing their biggest advantage. They can't afford to."

"You're thinking like a general," Bella said flatly, as she looked out the window at the busy traffic and the pedestrians. It was raining lightly. "Renesmee is in charge, even if the tactical ideas aren't hers. If she loses control, if she panics, Charlie dies."

"I'm counting on that not happening," Jasper said. "If we start obsessing about every little thing that could possibly go wrong, we'll never get anything done."

"It'll work," Maria cut in from the backseat. "You'll see. My people are well-prepared, smart, and loyal. Everything will work out fine, Bella. Everything will work out just fine."

Bella just kept looking out the window in silence. She wasn't sure if she even wanted to be able to be afraid anymore.

5 Looking into the smiling face of a man who'd once been forced to mercy-kill his own sister, wife of his best friend, was harder to stomach than Irina would have thought. For a while, she just sat there, gawping at him, frozen. Finally, she forced herself to draw a breath so that she'd be able to say, "I'm sorry." Yes, it was trite. She still thought it was appropriate to voice the sentiment.

"Thank you, dear," he said, briefly looking down at his hands. When he locked eyes with her again, his expression was wistful. "You understand that I will stop at nothing to rid out world of the threat that not just the monster in my dungeon poses, but also that of all cursed half-breeds. I don't have a choice. My duty is to our people, and those creatures put everyone at risk, including the humans. Their weapons would be useless if they felt forced to worship the thing that is threatening them the most, wouldn't you agree?"

"Yes." For a couple of seconds, she pressed her lips together. Then, she forced herself to relax as well as she was able to, and said, "Somehow, this does not bode altogether well for me, does it? I can't think of any scenario that includes a happy ending for me."

"Hm," he voiced, and chuckled. "You see, our reputation for ruthlessness and cruelty is well earned. We don't have many laws, but the ones we do have, we enforce mercilessly – for good reason. Vampires all over the world hate being told what to do, but they forget that what few rules there are exist for their own protection. We're an impulsive, aggressive, self-entitled species. We're stupid, too." At that, Irina snickered, but said nothing in reply. His smile broadened. "It is what it is. Many of us lose much of our intelligence alongside our humanity, which is a shame, but possibly nature's way of keeping us in check."

"Possibly," she echoed, hesitant, when he paused.

"It is my pet theory, in any case. What I was getting at, however, is this: our reputation is that of cold-hearted enforcers, and this reputation is both well-earned and unfair at the same time. You were corrupted by a very powerful dhampir, which is usually a death-sentence. Still, here you are, alive and well." He spread out his hands as if to underline his point.

"Because I serve a purpose."

"Because you serve a purpose, yes," he said, stood up, walked over deliberately slowly, and sat down again to her right. After carefully covering her right hand with his left, he added, "You're not immune to their powers, and yet, you have kept your individuality after direct contact with two of them. There is a reason for this, and if we could just find out what that reason is…" He trailed off and gave her hand a gentle squeeze. "Oh, darling girl, we might be able to change everything."

His tone of voice was so enthralled, so elated, it was very hard not to give into that. She assumed that this was his power getting the better of him…or maybe it was deliberate. After all, he was several thousand years old and hadn't made it to the position of emperor accidentally. It was probably smarter not to take anything at face value.

"Am I…" she said, and gathered her thoughts again. Damn quick vampire reactions getting the better of her. "Am I going to end up in a dungeon cell, unchained only in order to be vivisected over and over again?" Maybe it wasn't so smart to be this candid with him, but at this point, she didn't think that beating around the bush made any difference.

He just stared at her blankly for a moment before bursting out laughing. It took him half a minute to compose himself – whilst she just frowned at him, taken aback – before he said, "Oh, Irina. I'm sorry, I don't mean to be patronising – really, I don't. Nothing of the sort will happen to you. Believe me, I have no desire to see you hurt. Do you think it ever brings me joy to learn that one of us needed or needs to be destroyed? It doesn't. I want peace and prosperity for our people. No" – He squeezed her hand again – "you will not be harmed because there is no reason for it. You pose a threat to no-one. What I want from you is cooperation."

She had no idea how to feel about any of that. If she were to be completely honest, she didn't even feel like she was really there. "Of course."

"Good," he said, cracking a warm and sunny smile again that made – as corny as it sounded – the whole world fall away for a moment. It was, to put it bluntly, completely enthralling. "Because I have an idea that might just be the perfect solution to all of our problems."

6 They'd gone up to the master bathroom at Leah's request. She'd said that they might be occupying someone else's house and eating their frozen goods (well, she was, but those were details), but that didn't mean they had to be uncivilised. If she was going to drip blood anywhere, it would be tiles and not a carpet or the stairs. Also, there was a first-aid kit in the medicine cabinet. Practicality might not be her middle name, but she wasn't a complete idiot, either. Also, this wasn't her first rodeo. She'd been injured before. No matter how careful you were, it was always messy. Something always went wrong, or at least not quite the way you planned.

As they moved up the stairs, she mused whether she should make this her family motto: 'Something always goes wrong'. Huh. Was she starting to get all whiny and emo like Jacob, now? Well, that was as necessary and useful as a hole in the head.

"I don't know about you, but I for one immediately regret this decision," she said, as they both stood face to face in the bathtub. This had got to be the world's lamest improv theatre sketch. She was holding a razorblade in her right hand.

He returned her look gravely and ignored the failed attempt at humour. "You don't have to do this."

"I kind of think I do," she said, and sighed. "You know, little while ago, things were sort of screwed, but pretty straight forward. Now, look at this mess: I'm buddy-ing it up with a thousand-year-old vampire with a British accent and annoyingly good manners. If that wasn't bad enough, I'm also plotting to capture and possibly kill a former pack member and current cousin."

"I could be ruder, should that put your mind at ease."

She snorted wry laughter. "You? Not even if your life depended on it, pal. I mean, look at you: you can't even be rude without politely and selflessly offering it, first."

With a subtle smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, he said, "I know that coming from a vampire, this evokes a number of unfortunate implications, but I feel compelled to state that you can't help what you are."

"Oh, man; you're quite something," she said, snickering, shaking her head. "Before we do this: do you know how long the effect of your, uh…your bite will last? I don't want to risk being forced to work for Jacob again."

The smile vanished. He shrugged and crossed his arms. "To tell you the truth, I don't know for sure. If you were a werewolf of the variety I am familiar with, then you should be good for another few days."

"But I'm not a garden-variety werewolf."

He arched one of his thin eyebrows. "Indeed. I think it's safe to say that you aren't a garden-variety anything."

Okay, that was…that was…a very nice thing to say, actually. Dang, this guy really went out of his way to be pleasant, didn't he?

"Jeez," she said, scratched her neck with her free hand, and discreetly cleared her throat, "why can't all leech…I mean vampires be as decent as you?"

"A question I ask myself on a daily basis," he said, and sighed theatrically.

She squinted at him and pulled up one corner of her mouth in a crooked smirk. "It jokes. Again. Don't think I don't see what you're doing. You're trying to make me not terrified of getting blood drained out of me."

"If you handled the venom, you will hardly notice some blood-loss," he said, serious again. "At least not with your capacity for rapid healing."

"So, uh," she said, and tried swallowing down the knot in her throat, "is it gonna taste real horrible?"

"Do you really want an answer to that?" He waited, but she only nodded curtly. "Well, it's…not the same as a human's blood, of course, but it isn't as…uhm, unpleasant as it would be if you were in your werewolf form."

"Okay," she said, her voice sounding annoyingly hollow in her own ears. "Okay. So it's basically a beggars-can't-be-choosers scenario. Yeah. I can deal with that. It's good to know that my blood isn't bacon-flavoured goodness like Bell-Bell's once was. I'm not really a fan of being reduced to a body-part." But she was a fan of rambling when anxious or uncomfortable, wasn't she? Good gravy. Yes, it was a little bit pathetic, but it helped.

Maybe she was hallucinating, but the look he gave her seemed pretty sympathetic.

"Shall we do this?" he said.

"Right. Get it all over with. I agree. Good point." She took a deep breath, held up her left wrist, said, "No time like the present, I guess," brought the blade to her skin, and sliced it open with a quick move. It stung, sure, but she'd had worse. Her body trying to fight off the vampire venom came to mind. She shuddered. Blood spurted from the open vein into the white bathtub. It was a little nauseating, but nothing she couldn't handle. "Don't you dare try to kill me."

"I'll do my best," he said quietly, and then he was right in front of her, grabbing her wrist, pressing his lips against the bleeding gash in her skin.

The weirdest thing was, she wasn't entirely sure if he was kidding.

7 The sun was starting to set. As the sky was overcast, it was already pretty dark, but the lights along the promenade and coming from the city illuminated the beach pretty well. As Jacob leaned against the balustrade and looked out at the grey waters without paying much attention to it, he breathed in the salt-sea heavy, humid air in order to scan it for vampire stink. For basically the first time in his life, he'd arrived too early to a date – ha fucking ha.

This had to be a new low, right? He was putting a bunch of human lives at risk to stop vampire Bella and her Volturi buddies (not to mention a member of his own family) from double-crossing him, his imprintee, and the bitchiest mean girl in the history of forever. Great. Just great. Still, he didn't have a choice. Bella and Leah didn't leave him any choice. Why couldn't they just leave Nessie alone? Yeah, sure, she had powers that might…well, come across as a little unsettling to those who didn't know her. Nessie wasn't a threat to anyone, though. She was just a little girl, for crying out loud, who wanted to be loved and protected. What the hell was so wrong with that? Why did all those jerks insist on persecuting her as if she were a monster of some sort?

Unbidden, images popped up before his mind's eye: the hotel patrons stopping dead in their tracks, vomiting and peeing all over themselves, their eyes completely white. Nessie only had to issue a single vocal command, and all within earshot were immediately devoted to her. They'd become her collective, and they'd do what she told them to regardless of how awful it might be. They'd kill themselves and each other for her.

Annoyed at himself, he shook his head and leaned his face into his hands for a moment. Nessie's powers weren't relevant right now. He didn't even get what the big deal was. No-one made a huge fuss about Creepula, and he was a super-powered and murderous psychopath. Little Nessie was a precious, sweet and beautiful princess. She was good. The only explanation he had for the Volturi coming after the poor kid was that they wanted to enlist her for their evil army. That just had to be it. There was no other plausible explanation.

Well, he was not going to let them get their undead hands on her. He was never going to let anyone take her away from him. It didn't even matter anymore if he was still the Jacob that he used to be. It didn't matter that he had once been desperately in love with Bella Swan. No, all that mattered anymore was Nessie. He would always keep her safe and loved, and if that meant killing her mother who was unable to see, then so be it.

That was when he smelled it: mixed in the scents of ocean and sand and wood and street and people was the flowery, sickly-sweet stench of a very specific vampire.

"Hello, Jake. I'm glad you could make it."

Forcing himself to stay cool and move slowly, he turned around, his hands balled into fists. "Hey, Bells."

She was wearing a dark-red blouse and black pants. Her dark-brown hair was swaying gently in the breeze. It was still hard to look at that perfectly symmetrical face of hers. This wasn't his Bella anymore. He'd helped her learn to hear and see again for three months, yes, and he'd still felt some of his love for her, who he'd shortly dubbed the dead girl upstairs. That was all gone now. Bella was gone. This wasn't Bella. This was a psychopathic, blood-sucking, undead parasite. Bella was never going to stop being the dead girl upstairs. She was the past. Nessie was the future. If Bella did not cooperate, then her number was up. That was just the way things were now.

"So," she said, curving up the corners of her plump mouth in a really dishonest-looking smile. That didn't mean anything, though. All her smiles looked like that these days. "Can we talk? Really talk, like we used to?"

"When we were friends, you mean," he said, crossing his arms, squinting at her.

A group of young women went by, laughing and chatting. Bella briefly closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Ugh, vampires were so goddamn creepy. "We can still be friends, Jake," she said, looking at him again, wearing that weird, dead smile on her alien face. "I don't want anyone else to get hurt, and I'm here to make sure we all get out of this alive."

Alive, huh? What a colossal fucking joke that was! "Even if I believed you," he said, breathing in deeply and not detecting any other leeches close by, "you can't guarantee that your little buddies won't try something stupid. I know that they want my Nessie all to themselves, but they can't have her. Nobody can have her."

A little frown creased her smooth, pasty forehead. "Jake…"

"But I have taken measures that'll guarantee you won't hurt my Nessie, that you can't hurt my Nessie." He sneered at her. "Just FYI."

Looking utterly unsurprised and unfazed, she tilted her head slightly to the side as she watched him without blinking even once. "I wouldn't expect any less of you," she said, and motioned along the promenade with a little wave of her right hand. "Shall we take a little walk? We can talk things over calmly, like the civilised people that we are. What do you think?"

"Okay." Slowly, they set into motion. "So, what do your friends from the government of undead freaks propose? That is, if you're even proposing anything except our unconditional surrender, or something stupid like that."

Thankfully, she kept a respectful distance as they strolled along. "Jake, please, that is not at all what anybody wants. The Volturi aren't murderers, you see, and Renesmee…Nessie is my daughter. She's the only daughter, the only child I will ever have. I want her safe. I want my father safe." A little pause that was a lot awkward ensued. At length, she said, "However, you'll have to admit that she is a dangerous child, that she-"

"She's not dangerous, god damn it!" A few passers-by gave them weirded out looks, but left them alone. He was pretty sure that not many people were out to start a fight with random strangers, especially not guys as big as he was. Still, it couldn't hurt to keep a lid on his outrage. It wouldn't help if someone were to call the cops on him. Not that they'd be able to actually arrest him or whatever, but still. Every new human involved was a wild card. He took a deep, steadying breath and forced himself to unclench his fists. "She's just frightened. After what happened at the Cullen house, can you blame her? She's a child, for crying out loud!"

"Yes." She shoved her hands into the pockets of her pants as if she were cold. This was probably an attempt to appear more human. Cute. Useless, though. "I'm just gonna be honest with you: the Volturi want to get her away from big crowds, at least for the moment…you know, until we know how strong her powers will get. It's a matter of public safety, just like the more powerful vampires are told to keep away from humans in general."

This actually made sense, especially given what he'd witnessed and Bella hadn't, but…but…inwardly, he sighed. Nessie wanted more friends. She wanted everyone to be her friend. No, she would never agree to go somewhere secluded, somewhere where she wasn't surrounded by droves and droves of friends who loved (worshipped) her.

"I don't think that'll be possible," he said, glancing sideways at her. That was putting it mildly. It wasn't possible. It would never be possible. End of story.

She was the picture of calmness, wasn't she? Was she even capable of being nervous or afraid? This was eerie, and not in a good way. "She wants an army, doesn't she? An army of blindly devoted acolytes – of zombies."

He made a face. "Oh, don't be so melodramatic, Bella, she-"

"It's okay. I understand that you can't say anything bad about her, that you can't even think anything bad about her at this point."

"Here's my suggestion," he said, choosing not to think about how much her words stung. Didn't quite work, unfortunately. "You take your little band of misfits and get the hell out of here as soon as you can, meaning right now. We stay here and keep eliminating dangers for Nessie. No-one has to die. It'll be all right. You won't even notice that anything's changed. I know that your friends are big on the status quo, and we'll keep that for you. Just get the hell away from here, and stay the hell away from my girl. Simple as that."

From the corner of his eye, he saw her raising at least one of her eyebrows at that. "You know we can't do that."

"Oh, yes, you can," he said, his voice trembling slightly. Now was the time to play his trump card. "If you don't, all the humans at the Grand Hotel are gonna commit mass suicide tonight. There's no middle ground. We won't negotiate. Leave or be responsible for the consequences."

She walked on calmly, her hands still in her pockets. "That would be a tragedy, as would be the loss of Charlie. But if you choose to go through with this plan, you'll have signed your own death sentence – Renesmee's too."

"No. They can't get to her. Besides, they can't risk it. They'd be exposed. Barb…I mean, Rosalie will see to that. It would start a war that might just mean the end of the vampire world as we know it. Are you willing to risk that?"

"I don't have to," she said, and finally, there was a little emotion in her voice.

That was odd. He stopped dead in his tracks, frozen. Although he wasn't cold, gooseflesh erupted all over his body. Something was off. Was this…what was this faint, sharp, unpleasant smell in the air? Was…no, they couldn't have. They wouldn't. "Bella…"

She stopped, too, and turned to face him, placing herself in his path. Then, walking up to him until they were almost collarbone to forehead, she said, "We know what we're willing to risk, Jake. The question is…"

"Oh, God."

Strange lighting, further away, in direction of the hotel, flickered into the night sky. Farther ahead, too. The stench got worse. They…they actually had…

Shouts erupted. Sirens in the distance. People stopped to look about, find the source of the commotion.

Fire.

Bella placed an ice-cold hand on his arm, causing him to stare down at her in horror. "The question is, are you prepared to go to any extreme? We are."

He opened his mouth to ask her what she'd done, but suddenly, pain pierced his stomach. Her other hand. She…she…he stumbled back, trembling, pulling out a syringe from his belly. "What…" Then, the pain hit. Oh, God, the pain burning melting searing scorching God his whole body his veins his head his eyes oh God.

Biting heavily into his tongue, he dropped to his knees.

"It's okay," Bella's cold voice whispered into his ear. "I've got you."

Jacob hardly noticed how she scooped him up into her skinny arms and dashed away quicker than any human could see. Only one thing was stronger than the pain: the thought of Nessie.