In his dank cell in the bowels of the castle, Carlisle Cullen looked at the trembling young woman who had made herself as small as possible in the far corner. His words of reassurance had, it seemed, fallen on deaf ears, but that was hardly surprising. Even if she believed that he wouldn't kill her, she was clearly not so foolish as to think she would walk out of this dreadful place alive.

Sighing, he looked away, knowing there was nothing he could do for her. She wasn't the first human he'd been offered; the foul warder, Rasmus, had brought two other girls to him, both of whom had subsequently been taken away, no doubt to become another vampire's meal. All he could hope was that their deaths might be quick and painless, although he was well aware that such wasn't always the case. He had seen for himself hundreds of years earlier that there were those who liked to prolong the terror and the pain, those who enjoyed the sharp tang of adrenaline flooding the bloodstream of their victims.

Just the thought of it sickened him now, just as it had back in the seventeenth century; it was the driving force behind his decision to leave Volterra and Europe and make a new, better life for himself in the Americas. That vast, empty land was a place where he could be anonymous, perhaps continue his education and even find a way to help people as they built a new world away from poverty, prejudice and religious persecution. In that ambition, he liked to think that he might have helped in some small way. He had become a doctor and worked hard to become as skilled as possible without drawing too much attention to himself. He had never succumbed to bloodlust, even in the face of terrible injuries, and he had strived to find better ways to treat such injuries and look for cures for everyday diseases and illnesses. It was always a balancing act—he couldn't afford to become well-known and risk exposure, so when he did make breakthroughs in his research, he always surreptitiously passed these on to those who would run with them and take the credit.

But just look at him now, back where he started, with no end in sight other than his own death. Oh, he had considered trying to escape—he could tackle the warder and guards, try to run, but he knew he wouldn't get far in this place and would likely hasten his own end. Besides, he was sharply aware that he had already become far too debilitated by lack of blood to put up much of a fight. Nevertheless, above all other considerations, he could not discount the idea that while he remained alive, there was some small hope that he might see his beautiful Esme again one day. His heart broke for the pain he was causing her, and if he was fortunate enough to get out of here and back to the endless comfort of her arms, he would spend the rest of his existence by her side, endeavoring to win her forgiveness.

He was jolted from his musings by the sound of footsteps, followed by the jangle of keys as his cell was unlocked. Inevitably, the door swung open, and the stocky guard barreled in, going straight to the whimpering girl, grabbing her arm and yanking her out.

Carlisle could hear her screams and entreaties for some time as she was dragged down endless passageways to her certain death. He buried his head in his hands, agonized by the thought that he was responsible for what was about to happen to her. Would it not be better to kill these poor, benighted women by the simple and relatively painless method of breaking their necks, thus saving them from a much worse fate? It was a question Carlisle had struggled with since he'd found himself in this ghastly situation. Everything in him screamed that life was sacrosanct and that he had no right to play God. But was he just being a coward? Unlike many of his kind, Carlisle believed that he still had a soul, and he couldn't help but wonder if he was damning his own either way.

He lifted his head as he heard the door clang shut once again, hoping they might have finally accepted that he wouldn't give in to temptation. His eyes had been black for some days now, and his thirst was severe, but he knew he would never succumb despite the burn in his throat.

His eyes flew open as a familiar voice screamed and small, ineffectual hands beat against the solid door.

"Aspetta, per favore … fammi uscire … cosa sta succedendo?"

He looked up to see the young woman who had flirted with him all the way from the airport. However, the person before him showed none of the signs of that self-confident, coquettish femme fatale now. Clothes and hair in disarray, she was clearly distraught and confused … and utterly unaware, in a darkness impenetrable to human eyes, that she was not alone.

"Gianna?"

She screamed again and spun around, flattening herself against the door and looking around blindly. "Chi è là?" she cried out, her voice breaking.

Standing up, Carlisle held his hands up in a placatory gesture, even knowing she couldn't see him. Moving slowly, he spoke softly to try and allay her fears. "Shh, it's me, Gianna, Carlisle Cullen. It's okay; I won't hurt you."

She calmed a little, but he could see from the rapid rise and fall of her chest that she was still very frightened.

Leaning away from the door, she spoke now in a hushed whisper. "What's going on, Carlisle, why are you here, and … and why have they brought me here?"

He moved a little closer and observed the moment she became aware of his proximity, even though she still couldn't see him properly.

"I'm afraid this is my fault, Gianna. I came here to persuade Aro that he had nothing to fear from me or my family, but he has chosen not to believe me and has decided to punish me for perceived wrongdoing. I was a fool to come here, but I needed to do whatever it took to keep him from traveling to the US."

"Bu—but why am I here? I don't understand." Her voice quivered, although she was clearly working hard to remain calm.

"I'm afraid you've gotten caught up in the middle of a war of wills between myself and Aro. He knows I don't feed on human blood, but he keeps sending helpless young women to tempt me into turning my back on nearly 400 years of almost total abstinence. I'm so sorry, but as far as Aro is concerned, you are now just collateral damage."

"You don't drink blood? What on earth do you mean?"

He chuckled humorlessly. "No, you misunderstand me. I do drink blood, just not human blood. I feed on animals—mostly deer, but sometimes predator animals like cougars and wolves where they aren't endangered."

He was unsurprised to see her wrinkle her nose in disgust, knowing that it was unlikely such a diet would appeal to her should she be changed. Carlisle was well aware that there were those in the local population, willing volunteers who were carefully chosen by the Volturi to work as acolytes, carrying out those tasks and errands that a vampire couldn't do in such a climate, as well as sating the appetites of those members of the guard who had a taste for human flesh that went beyond their blood. Many, if not all, of these acolytes hoped to be rewarded for loyal service by being offered immortality, although it was by no means guaranteed. However, he imagined that this was Gianna's end goal.

As if she could read his mind, the woman suddenly relaxed completely and smiled up at him. "Maybe we can turn this to both our advantages, Carlisle," she cooed, her soft Italian accent once more that of the girl he'd first met.

"What do you mean, Gianna?" he asked with a sinking heart.

"Well, you did say 'almost total abstinence', which I guess means you have tasted human blood. I heard you changed at least two women, so you know how it's done. You could change me, take some blood to help ease your thirst, and then, once the transformation is complete, I could help you escape."

She smiled up at him, parting her lips and slowly licking them. He could feel her breath on his face and heard the steady thump of her heart pick up slightly as her excitement grew.

"I'm sorry, Gianna; that's just not going to happen. The first woman I changed was my mate, Esme. She was dying, and I simply couldn't let that happen. She and I have been together for nearly a hundred years, and I love her very much. The second woman was also dying, the victim of a brutal attack, and she became the daughter I could never have had. I changed one more person, her mate and husband, whom she had saved from a bear attack. All of us subsist on animal blood, and I would never contemplate changing someone who wouldn't want to share our ideals, no matter what the circumstances might be."

"But—"

"No, Gianna, I can't do it. Please don't ask me."

"But if I promised to follow your ways …"

He smiled, knowing instinctively that she was unlikely to do so, especially if she stayed in Volterra. "I'm sorry, but no."

He saw the panic rise in her eyes again and looked away. "But they'll kill me, Carlisle. Surely, you must know that? They've obviously chosen me to tempt you, and if I fail in that task, they won't hesitate to destroy me. I'll just be one more human at the feast …"

Her breath hitched, and she let out a choked sob. She leaned into where she could feel his presence, wrapping her arms around his waist. He couldn't help but embrace her, feeling hot tears soak through his shirt as he offered what comfort he could.

"I'm so, so sorry you've been caught up in this, Gianna. But I can't do what you want, I simply can't."

She pulled away from him slightly, reaching a hand up blindly to touch his face. When she spoke again, it was with resignation and he found himself admiring her bravery. "Then kill me, Carlisle, please. Give me that, at least—a quick, painless death. Because if I'm still alive when they come for me, I will be punished. Felix wants me and will not go easy on me—I've heard what he does to human women, raping them until they bleed internally and slicing a nail into an artery so he can slowly drain them without injecting his venom."

Carlisle groaned, raising his eyes to the dark, slimy ceiling and shaking his head in despair at the depravity that now seemed to have become the norm in this foul place.

"But even that would be preferable to being fed to Nekhbet." A shudder ran through her, and he looked back down at her in enquiry.

"Nekhbet?"

She extricated herself from his loose embrace and turned back toward the door, resting her head and hands against it for a moment before turning back to face him.

"Caius's pet—a giant vampire vulture. It's down here somewhere. I heard they let it loose on that redheaded vampire who came here."

"Dear lord, a vampire vulture? What in God's name has happened since I left?" Speaking almost to himself, Carlisle could only shake his head in disbelief at the monstrous wickedness of it all. After a moment of silence, however, his thoughts turned to mention of the visitor he assumed to be Victoria. "What do you know of this redhead? Is she still alive?"

Frowning slightly at the change of subject, Gianna shook her head. "I don't know. I heard she was being held down here, but we humans aren't really kept up to date on such matters."

He nodded, knowing this was likely to be true. He wondered if Victoria would hear him if he called out to her but decided it was probably best not to do anything to alert the guards to the fact that he was aware she might be here. He knew he could probably lay the blame for his current situation at her door, but maybe they could help each other at some point, and that would likely be achieved better if he kept his knowledge to himself for the moment.

"Carlisle?"

He looked up as Gianna spoke again, her voice thin and uneven. "I'm still here," he told her laconically.

He saw her smile shakily, but her face quickly fell, only to be replaced by a look of resignation. "Carlisle, I wanted to say … well, just that I'm sorry about how I was when you arrived. I knew you had a mate, but …" She bit her lip and looked down.

He waited, knowing she had more to say and perhaps the lack of light would make it easier. After a moment, she looked up, seeming to search for his eyes in the darkness. "Before I came to meet you, Aro summoned me. He … instructed me to … offer myself up to you. He said that if I did well, I would be rewarded. Ever since I was a child and heard the rumors, I wanted to be transformed, to become immortal. So, I did as he asked, and he made it very clear what would happen if I failed. I guess that's why I've been sent here, and I suppose I should be grateful that I've been provided with a third choice—and if I'm to die, I don't want to leave this world with that deception staining my soul.

"So, I'm begging you. Please don't let Felix or Caius have me. I understand if you don't want to change me, I do, but if you won't do that, then you have to kill me. I may not be the most virtuous or decent woman in the world, but I don't deserve the fate that awaits me if they take me out of this cell alive." She swallowed another sob. "Please, Carlisle, just … just do it."

Carlisle was torn, a feeling of profound agony slicing through him. His entire existence had been about the sanctity of life, about saving and preserving human lives. The young woman in front of him had willingly aligned herself with inherently wicked individuals whose contempt for human life went bone deep. Nevertheless, he knew it was possible to be in the presence of evil without really comprehending the depths or breadth of that evil. What Gianna had no doubt observed was a charmed existence, one where it was possible to acquire great wealth and enjoy a luxurious, indolent lifestyle without end, indulging one's every whim.

He himself had spent several years turning a blind eye to the death and destruction he knew went on but which he justified as being a necessary evil for vampires. He told himself that Aro and his brothers were also hugely cultured and learned gentlemen who offered him the opportunity to educate himself, surrounded as he was by one of the most comprehensive book collections outside of the great libraries of Britain and Europe. He had access to some of the most sublime art and music of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries and had met such extraordinary protagonists as Canaletto and Vivaldi. It had been a seductively easy lifestyle to embrace, and it took him twenty years to recognize how destructive it was to his psyche and to his soul as the evidence of his own eyes finally told him he could no longer rationalize what was going on around him as a price worth paying for the benefits he enjoyed.

The questions he now had to ask himself were did he risk that very soul by premeditatedly taking the life of this misguided girl without good cause, or should he take the high road and condemn her to a fate worse than death. It was a conundrum Solomon himself would struggle to unravel; certainly, it was beyond Carlisle's power to solve.

Hurried footsteps approaching from far along the passage focused both their minds on the matter at hand.

Gianna's small hands searched for him in the dark, finding his chest and plucking at his shirt. "Oh, God, Carlisle, do it now, please!" she hissed.

His eyes widened, and in that moment, he knew what he must do.

He pulled her closer, turning her gently in his arms and wrapping an arm around her neck. With her back pressed to his chest, he lifted his free right hand and cupped her left cheek. "Relax, my dear, I promise this won't hurt," he whispered into her ear.

He paused for a moment as he sent a silent prayer for both their souls to a God he sometimes struggled to believe in anymore. As he braced himself to do the unthinkable, so intent was he on the grisly task he had set himself that he didn't even notice the sound of a key turning in the well-oiled keyhole. Before he could do what Gianna had begged for, the door was flung open, knocking them both backward and causing Carlisle to loosen his grip.

The light cast by numerous flaming torches fixed to the passage walls filtered into the cell, pushing the darkness into the far corners and illuminating their jailers.

Gianna screamed. "Noooo!"

Felix dipped low and stepped into the cell, his gaze settling on Carlisle. "Silence, harlot. Cullen, come with me."

Gianna stared at him. "Wha—what about me?"

He shifted his eyes to her, sweeping up and down her body in a cursory inspection. "You're staying here … for the moment," he told her, his leer making her stomach roil. Then, without another word, he grabbed Carlisle's arm and dragged him from the cell, leaving the warder to slam the door shut on the distraught woman.

In the passageway, Carlisle's thoughts turned briefly to ideas of escape, but he knew it was futile. He was half-starved and feeling it, while Felix was clearly fully sated on human blood if the bright vermillion of his eyes was anything to go by, and was a veritable man-mountain. As it was, Carlisle struggled to keep up, faltering a couple times on the narrow stone steps as his escort hauled him up them at vampire speed. He had hoped to plead for Gianna's life, but just as he started to speak, Felix pushed him against the curved wall, lifting him off his feet, and thrust his face close to Carlisle's, forcing him to turn his head away from the unnatural proximity.

"So, did you fuck her, Cullen? She's a juicy one, that. I've been saving her for myself, but Aro wanted you to taste her. He thought she might be the one to finally tempt you. So, you didn't bite, but did you fuck her? I'm not sure I want your sloppy seconds, Cullen."

Forcing himself to look into the eyes of a demon, Carlisle summoned up every last ounce of dignity and integrity he possessed. "I doubt you have any comprehension of fidelity or the mating bond, so I will treat your crass and unconscionable comments with the contempt they deserve. Now, do you want me to tell Aro you delayed our arrival just so you could talk dirty to me?"

Felix hissed and slammed Carlisle hard against the dark stones, causing some of the mortar to crack and crumble, and small fissures to spread across Carlisle's pale, handsome face. Nevertheless, he released his prisoner and continued on up the stairs, clearly expecting him to follow. Short of options, Carlisle did so.

In a somewhat less hopeful repeat of the journey he had made almost two weeks earlier, Carlisle found himself once more facing the ancient oak doors that barred the way to the Volturi inner sanctum.

Even physically reduced as he was and despite the thickness of the walls, he thought he heard a familiar voice. All at once, he felt both his hope soar and his heart sink.

Had he not told them—insisted, even—that they not come to Volterra, not try to mount a rescue?

If there is a God and he is still listening to me, please don't let Esme be here. Please let her be safe at home.

He looked up at Felix, who had grasped the iron handles and was pushing the doors open, revealing the unexpected scene unfolding within.

~o0o~

Translations:

Aspetta, per favore … fammi uscire … cosa sta succedendo? — Wait, please … let me out … what's going on?

Chi è là? — Who's there?


A/N: So, finally, we reach the point to which all this has been building. What do you suppose is the scene that greets Carlisle? Is it good, bad or just plain batshit crazy? Only one way to find out!

I've been scrabbling to respond to reviews - I hate it when I can't do that, because I know just how dedicated to the stories and authors are those who stop and take time to leave a comment, especially if they're reading on a phone or tablet. I remember the early days, before smartphones and apps, when we all read on our laptops and it was so easy to type out a review, and I know it takes a lot more effort to input something on a tiny keypad - or am I the only troglodyte left out there stabbing a single fat finger on my phone, taking 10 minutes to write two lines?! Anyway, I was still responding this morning, so you may well read this chapter before you see my reply, in which case, let me say thanks again here - you're all fabulous and I truly appreciate every single one of you. See you next week. xoxo