Little bit of a time jump here and a couple of side notes just for those who like to know the little details: Courtney was 23 when she was turned and Vince was 25. I do not own Twilight.

November, 2005, Volterra

"I despise elk." Demetri grimaced as she dropped the animal's carcass to the forest floor. "You know you only do that to bother Aro."

"But it annoys him so very much," Courtney retorted with a smile as she plucked a few stray animal hairs from her dress. Who would have ever thought they'd see her in Armani? Not that any of her friends could actually see her now. If they did, they'd run screaming for the hills of Tennessee. "I do think it bothers Caius more."

"Of course it does." Her mate's forehead wrinkled, the sun peeking through the trees glimmered on his marble skin, and her stomach tightened. How could she want him that much? A man hadn't even been on her radar … Who said I wanted either? Her own words drifted back out of the past. Oh, she had, a man at least. Someone strong enough to share the burden of surviving on minimum wage and financial aid while she worked her way through college part time. One day, she would have had money and the time to find a good man.

At the time, spending her tax return on a week's trip to Italy had seemed an insanely stupid move, even with her best friend helping out, but in hindsight, she understood why her gut had told her to do it. She'd gotten everything she'd ever wanted just handed to her by an overly dramatic idiot in a medieval costume. Of course wanting immortality was irrelevant; she hadn't known it was an option.

The only regret she had was the thought of Ashley's face when the police inevitably arrived on her doorstep in Nashville to tell her that her best friend had gone missing in Italy. She was just glad Ashley had gotten sick at the last minute and couldn't go. Courtney flicked a glance at her mate. It wasn't likely her friend would have been as lucky, or have a talent that drove Aro practically mad in his desire to possess it, necessitating an offer that was never made.

He loved what she could do and called it the perfect compliment to her mate's talent. Perfect yes, especially when she had eyes on greater prey than lunch. A pity he so rarely allowed them to work in tandem, but could she really blame him? Power hungry always meant paranoid of losing said power, a concept she was only too willing to aid.

The beautiful thing was he didn't even know the full depths to her abilities, nor would he know unless she chose to enlighten him, talent or no talent. He never should have encouraged Demetri to tell her the Volturi's history while she changed, not if he wanted his dark secret to stay secret. How no one else in the castle had ever figured it out was a miracle.

"Are you sure, Courtney? We could always stop in Florence and find some unsuspecting tourists." Demetri's face twisted as he looked down at the elk. "I can assure you it would taste much better than that."

"Aro would see the red in my eyes. I won't have him win." She flitted deeper into the forest, finished hunting but enjoying the time away from Volterra. Demetri followed with a sigh.

"Eating is not a game."

"Perhaps. Perhaps not." She ran her hand almost lovingly down the trunk of a massive tree. "If it weren't for his little manipulator, the supernatural sized egos inside would tear the castle apart."

"You are Volturi, just as I am."

"I never said I wasn't, Demetri, darling. I merely think for myself. An option you also enjoy thanks to me. I know from Master Marcus that Chelsea cannot compel someone to feel bound to Aro if their mate is unwilling."

"It is an honor to be among the Guard." But his tone wasn't the same as it had been in April. His loyalty was wavering, hence why Aro didn't like to let them both leave at once. Courtney hid a smile and left the discussion to sit. Given enough time, Demetri would see what she did. It wasn't his fault his mind didn't work as fast as hers. She pushed off the tree.

"Race you home." His eyes gleamed.

"You can't hide, my love."

"Just because you can always find me doesn't mean you can catch me," she shot back, and darted away, laughing. A playful growl filled the forest and he was racing along at her heels, the sound of his feet against the ground sending all sorts of calculations to what she liked to imagine as a computer in her mind, everything from trajectory to velocity, even air resistance and friction, allowing her to skate aside or duck when he leaped.

A tree shuddered and slowly arced into a graceful collapse that shook the ground. She glanced back over her shoulder and found Demetri brushing spruce needles off his shirt as he ran and she snorted. "That's not exactly fair, you know."

"It's not like I can turn it off." Internal sensors hummed a warning and she jumped aside as he dove, landing hard enough to briefly shake the forest again. "Really, Demetri, use your head. Keep it up and someone is going to wonder what's going on out here," she managed between laughs and stopped to wait for him. He picked himself up and brushed dirt off his front. She danced back and plucked a leaf out of his wavy, shoulder-length hair and pressed a kiss to his cheek. He caught her in his arms with a low growl and pinned her between his marble body and another tree.

"Caught you."

"Did you?" A slow smirk touched her lips. "Maybe I let you." Her fingers played in his hair. An answering smile touched his mouth.

"And maybe I perfected the art of catching you." He leaned in for a kiss and she whispered against his lips.

"Only after I taught you a million times."

"It wasn't that many," he insisted, his voice soft as he kissed her.

"Okay, half a million times." Air left his lungs in a heavy sigh and rolled his eyes.

"Confound it woman, do you always have to have the last word?" Courtney giggled and twisted a strand of hair around her finger, then pressed her lips to his.

"Yes," she whispered and he growled in annoyance, to which she responded with laughter.

March 18, 2006, Ithaca, New York

"Slow down, Alice, what do you mean he's going to –" But she was off and screeching again. Vince pinched the bridge of his nose and held back a disgruntled sigh. Almost twenty years and his younger – older? – brother was just as dramatic as he'd always been. "Alice!" The chatter on the other end of the line cut off into silence and he sighed again. "Sorry. You have to admit, we all warned him how many times that this could happen?"

"Bella isn't dead, Vince! Yes, I saw her jump, but apparently she's best friends with a werewolf and I can't see them, so there was no way to know that she was pulled to safety. You're closer, you have to do something!"

"You know she's the only one he'd believe."

"At least slow him down," she begged. "Bella and I are on our way, but –"

"His flair for the dramatic will give us all the time we need. If Aro refuses him, he'll sit there and plot and scheme, and finally decide on something so blindingly simple he should have thought of it the day before. But we know he won't and we'll have time to catch up and stop his useless self from getting destroyed over a human. If he loves her that much, he should have already turned her. Hell, Bella wants it."

"He wants her to live," Alice said quietly. "Be human, like we all should have been."

"If we were human, we'd all be dead now," Vince reminded her.

"I've already seen you'll be there."

"I never said I wouldn't go." He checked his watch, one of the only mementos he had of his human life. "I just hadn't planned on swimming to Europe today."

"Thank you," Alice murmured, and Vince shook his head.

"Don't thank me yet, I may not be able to catch him in time. And even if I can, he may not listen."

"That's why I called you."

"My talent isn't foolproof."

"Whose is? Bella, please tell me you have a passport, I don't have time to forge one."

"Of course, come on, Alice, hurry." The sound of running feet reached his ears, along with loud protests that he presumed came from the werewolf best friend, then the slam of a door. He shook his head again. Edward should have known better.

"I'll do my best, pixie," he promised. "See you in Italy." He hung up without a word and unbuckled his watch, laying it carefully on his nightstand. He ghosted downstairs and passed Rose and Emmett without a word. Jealous, spiteful … he couldn't think of a word strong enough to describe her attitude at the moment. If Bella never forgave her for this, so be it.

Vince turned due east and ran as fast as he could. If there had been time, he could have stopped in Boston again and done a little sightseeing …. For a man who'd always wanted to travel outside the snowbank that was South Dakota, he'd certainly seen a lot more after he died. This would be his fourth trip to Italy and he hoped Edward's impetuous stupidity didn't turn it into the last.

Even after twenty years, there were still a few places he hadn't been yet and he did want to see them. Even if the food was no longer appetizing.

Vince shook himself free of water as he slipped ashore at Santander, Spain. There were times he wished he was a tracker – needing to hide Bella last summer being one – and this was another. Carlisle had wondered if that might be his talent since he was so good at police work when he was alive, only to be proven wrong. His talent was useful, of course, but only if he was close enough to be heard.

And Edward would hear his thoughts long before he was in range and that would be that. It wouldn't stop him, but it would complicate matters. He sincerely hoped his brother didn't do anything else stupid like throwing a car across the square in Volterra, but knowing Edward, it was a distinct possibility.

The scent of blood burned his throat and he held his breath as he navigated the shadows in alleyways and deserted side streets. He wasn't perfect, he had slipped up once when he was brand new, but the memory of the guilt that had swamped him immediately after was usually sufficient to keep his thirst in check. He'd sworn an oath to serve and protect, and he still considered himself bound by that oath.

Once outside the city, he could pick up the pace. He knew where Edward was going, but not how he planned to get there. Starting in Rio, the most direct route would have been to cut straight across the western coast of Africa, then across the Mediterranean and into Italy. But what if he hadn't bee lined for Volterra? No. Vince dismissed that idea immediately. The decision was so rapid, it had been predetermined. Edward had given up the moment his fears were confirmed by whatever idiot had done that and he wouldn't be distracted by detours. He glanced up at a clock tower as he hurried past. Alice better have Bella on a plane by now, or this rescue wouldn't even get off the ground.

Maybe he could intercept him on the way up from Africa … or would it be better to head straight for Volterra? Vince decided on the latter and picked up the pace. He might get lucky, but then again, he might not. He'd always gone for the sure thing, and he wasn't about to change his pattern now with the stakes so high.

Vince ducked into the shadows of an alleyway, the burn in his throat as a very last call bar-goer wobbled past, a constant reminder of the price he paid for immortality. Considering how safe Volterra was supposed to be for humans, he could smell at least half a dozen vampires lurking around. Had he missed Edward and the idiot already approached them? He needed to find a phone, call Alice and catch up on what she'd seen. There had to be a payphone somewhere … he turned a circle, then froze, head whipping to the side as a pair of crimson eyes gleamed deep in the shadows.

"It is not often we run across a stranger in Volterra," a polite voice said. "May I ask why you are here?"

"I don't plan to hunt if that's what you mean."

"You eyes tell me that much." A tall man with pale, olive tinted skin eased out of the deepest shadows in the rear of the alley. "You must be friends with Carlisle, I met him when he spent a few decades with us several centuries ago. So … why?" There was a slight accent to his voice that didn't sound Italian. Vince eyed the man and compared the accent to everything he'd heard in the past twenty years, settling on Greek, but … slightly different.

"As long as I cause you no trouble, why should it matter?"

"St. Marcus Day, of course. We can't have slip ups any day, but especially that one." His red eyes slipped past Vince's shoulder as though he were checking on something.

"Tell me the truth," he demanded, throwing the full weight of his gift into every word. Those red eyes flickered.

"A vampire came to the Volturi asking to die. We are to keep watch on him and make sure he causes no … incidents … while the masters deliberate." The man looked confused for a few moments, then his gaze cleared and he gaze Vince an appraising look. "Interesting."

"Some think so." Vince glanced back out to the street. "Where is he?"

"At the moment I do not know. He has an astonishing talent according to Aro, but Master Marcus seems to think he would refuse the honor of joining the Guard."

"He would."

"You're Vince, unless I'm mistaken." The tone of his voice indicated that he knew he wasn't. "I'm Demetri." Vince eyed him a moment, deliberating. If the Volturi were told that Edward had leaped without looking so to speak, they might actually be able to defuse the situation. It wouldn't be great that Bella's existence and knowledge became known to the vampire police, but they'd find out anyway when she turned up in the middle of Volterra. And depending on how much Edward had told them, they likely already knew. If he was smart – possible – and thinking straight – highly unlikely – he would have said his mate was destroyed and left it at that.

Bella should be turned anyway, it was what she wanted, but considering how well they – mostly Edward – had listened to him last summer about the damn tracker, he didn't think they'd start now. You didn't try and hide anything from a tracker, that's just blasted common sense. It had been like waving the proverbial red flag in front of a bull with the extremely predictable results that occurred.

Granted, he had been out of the country on a trip to Egypt at the time, and he hadn't been able to fully weight his gift over a cell connection. Face to face was always best.

"His mate is alive." Demetri arched a brow. "Our sister didn't get all the facts before she called him and now he won't listen to anyone. If the Volturi would just tell him that, he'll meet us, we'll get him out of your hair, and we'll all go home and leave you to run Volterra."

"Rather like Romeo and Juliet, yes? I will certainly pass along the information, but of course the decision is not mine you understand." Something flickered in his eyes, there and gone before Vince could identify it. "It was a pleasure to have a discussion with someone possessed of sense." And then Demetri was gone. Vince fought the urge to slam his fist against the closest wall. Damn Volturi, just as high and mighty, we're better than you and all that bullshit that had characterized the handful of federal agents he'd ever had the misfortune of meeting while he was alive. Except one, and he was most likely pushing seventy by now, if he hadn't already died.

He ghosted to the end of the alley and peered out at the clock tower that dominated the skyline. Two in the morning. How long would it take them to decide? And how far away were Alice and Bella? Vince rubbed his hands together. In a perfect world, Mr. Polite with a stick up his ass would tell his masters immediately, they would tell Edward, and he could go collect his wayward brother without Bella stepping foot on Italian soil.

Unfortunately, his world was never perfect, even dead. Vince sighed and slipped back into the shadows. Why did he get the feeling this whole day was going to turn to shit in a matter of seconds?