Thank you so much Nickaroos for being my first reviewer! I'm glad you're enjoying it so far! While having reviews isn't the sole reason to write, it certainly helps to know that an author's work is being appreciated!
-Chapter 5-
"Gabriel, honestly-"
"I'm going with you, so stop whining," Gabriel interrupted Dean as he took her bag and slung it over his shoulder.
"I'm not whining! I just...I don't want you to get hurt if something happens. You didn't see what I saw."
"Sweetheart, I promise you, I've seen some things that would fuel your nightmares." He looks over at her with a teasing smile, but it softens as he gazes upon her stressed face. "I'll be fine. You'll be fine. Everything is going to be absolutely fine." There was an almost wistful edge to his voice, as if he didn't believe his own words. He covered it up with another soft smile and redirected their train of thought. "Besides, maybe we'll meet a pair of super hot Italians and get shunned out of the convent indefinitely."
Dean rolled her eyes but allowed him to walk with her towards the entrance, her eyes crinkling in amusement. How Gabriel had managed to hang onto his life here, she'd never know. He could be worse than her sometimes.
Mother Superior and Sister Mary Constance were standing by the wrought iron gate waiting for them. They both bowed respectfully at the two most high-ranking nuns in the convent. Mary Constance appraised them with a critical eye.
Dean had chosen nondescript black slacks with a white turtleneck, a large rosary wound around her neck to identify her affiliation with the church. It's beads of brown, red, and gold glistened in the sunlight that was streaming in through the gate and over their heads. Though it was sunny out, dread hung like a thick grey cloud over each of their heads. There was a sense of finality as the four stood across from each other.
Gabriel's ever present smile had waned down into almost a grimace as he stood strait as an arrow and seemed to share a silent conversation with Mother Superior. No one commented on the exchange, however, and instead focused on the girl they had all labeled as 'the problem child' amongst themselves. Even Mary Constance seemed to be sorry to see the two go, and she'd done the most complaining about her out of everyone in the entire institution.
"Child, know that you will always have a home here. No matter what happens, you can always return," Mother Superior says firm, but kindly. She rests her hands on the younger girls shoulders and kisses both of her cheeks. "I wish you well. Be safe, and let God be the hand that guides you."
For once, Dean didn't have to bite back a sarcastic remark. Her eyes watered a little, feeling this goodbye a little more final than it should have been, and she nodded in response.
"Thank you, Reverend Mother."
Italy was an absolutely beautiful country. Dean hadn't gotten to see much of it and remembered even less from before she'd come to the convent. The rolling hills of grass, the trees that reached like hands scraping the skies, the pleasant heat of the sun broiling down upon her face through the open window of the car. Gabriel was driving much too fast, surely breaking whatever the speed limit was, but thankfully they didn't get pulled over.
Volterra loomed over them. Sandstone buildings climbed high, and it was busy in the city. The noise of families enjoying the early afternoon touched her ears and filled her with a foreign sense of joy and wonderment. They were all cloaked in red for the St. Marcus Day Festival, and it created a bobbing and weaving scarlet sea to celebrate the expulsion of vampires from the city. Dean couldn't help but feel the irony in it. A month ago she would have laughed and daydreamed about coming here. She wouldn't have witnessed a real life demon, and wouldn't have any clue about the supernatural around her. A month ago, it was all just a gruesome, violent story in a book she followed but wasn't sure she believed in.
Now, she knew better, and wondered how accurate the stories actually were. Had they been too quick to toss it aside as a legend? What if monsters really did roam Volterra? Unfortunately, Dean knew the answer to that. Father Karras hadn't been specific as to whom she would be going to for help, but the urgency and the tone of the letter made her on edge. It told her something was definitely wrong with who she was going to visit, and that it had been a last resort for a reason.
Her alarm bells were still going off, growing louder as they were forced to park their car and make their way towards the clock tower on foot. They had to weave through the crowd, Gabriel never once taking his hand off the crook of her elbow as they maneuvered towards Castle Voltaire. Standing in the shade that was cast at the front entrance, was a thin and tall woman wearing a deep red dress and a black cloak that cast dark shadows over her pale face. She was beautiful, and it seemed like the world narrowed down around her, drawing Deans entire attention to her.
Get closer. Be near her. She is friendly. Don't be afraid.
Her instincts warred with each other, but Gabriel tugged her forward. His steps had faltered a little, unnoticeable to anyone but himself and the woman standing in the shadows, her gaze already fixed onto the two of them. Her ruby lips curled up into a pleasant smile as they finally came to a soft halt before her.
"Do you wish to see the castle from within?" she asked in a voice that lilted with an accent and seemed to be accompanied by angels bells. Now standing so close, Dean could see the dark scarlet of her eyes. Eyes that looked so familiar to her, but for some reason her brain was fuzzy. She tried to shake off the feeling, but the harder that she resisted, the more it seemed the walls pressed in on her. It was only allowing her to be enraptured by the woman before her.
"Yes, very much," Dean answers. Gabriel's jaw tightens, a tick forming in his cheek, but he doesn't say anything. His only contribution is a sharp nod and tightening of his fingers around Dean.
"Very well, there is a group just about to enter. Follow me." The woman turns on her heels and marches further into the dark, shoes clicking on the stone.
"Stay close," Gabriel whispers as they follow through the entrance. The walk is short, and they meet up with a large group of tourists of all ages, shapes, sizes, and colors. All happy, excited to see the inside of the beautiful architecture.
"Alright, my name is Heidi," the woman addresses everyone in the group. "I will be your tour guide. I think we will head to the throne room and make our way around that way. Shall we?" Various mutterings of agreement echo throughout the group and the brunette woman turns once again to lead the long line of people through a set of heavy wooden doors.
Dean keeps close to Gabriel, just like he'd told her. Heidi randomly points to different paintings on the walls, showing them certain rooms and explaining their significance, what they were used for and the history around the castle. It all seems rather rushed to Dean, and sets her even further over the edge. Her palms are sweating and her chest aches from how fast her heart is beating as they near the throne room.
A man with a widows peak and more scarlet eyes walks towards us, a couple trailing behind him with a fully dressed girl clinging onto a young man dressed in only a pair of pants and a red cloak.
"Nice fishing, Heidi."
"Yes, they do look rather juicy," replies Heidi. Dean wants to run. Everything telling her to get the hell out of there. She goes to turn away, but Gabriel holds her fast, sending her a nervous and apologetic look.
"Save some for me," says the man as the group passes.
"This way, please," Heidi says, ignoring his last comment and opening the next set of large wooden doors. They follow her through, looking up and around at the high cathedral ceiling. Dean's eyes are fixed on the collapsed portion of stairs at the feet of three thrones. Everyone comes to a stop in front of them, staring in astonishment at the three impeccably dressed men.
She doesn't get a good look at them, though. The doors have no time to shut before the screams start. Fear, the likes she had only felt once, a month ago, rattles her bones. Gabriel yanks her behind him, shuffling them back behind a marble pillar as the group that had been awaiting their arrival launch into action. Ripping throats out and sinking their teeth into the necks of their victims.
It is utter chaos. Dean finds herself on the floor, the stone biting into her knees. Her hands grip her rosary as if that would offer her any protection.
"You're going to be fine, Dean," Gabriel is shouting. "You're going to be okay!"
But she couldn't hear him. Her blood was roaring in her ears. A girl, barely into adulthood with blonde hair pulled back into a tight bun was before them in a flash. Her arm shot out, and she wrapped Gabriel's throat in a fist. Dean screamed, her eyes falling to the floor because she couldn't bare to watch
Hands were on her forearms, yanking her to her feet and she kicked her feet out, still screaming. She couldn't even register that her voice was the only one left. It took her a long time to realize that the hands hadn't moved, and that she wasn't dead.
"Will you stop that?" A voice snapped.
Instantly, her mouth snapped shut. Her entire body shaking like a leaf, she continued to stare at the floor.
"What are you doing here?" The same man demanded. It came out as an angry growl. A fury so deeply rooted that it burned her soul. Why wasn't she dead? Why had she been sent here? What had she done to deserve this? The hands on her were so tight she knew that she'd have bruises, if her bones didn't have permanent indents of fingers on them.
"Caius, brother, let the poor dear go," said a softer voice. His was nearly sad, but pitched higher in an interesting childlike quality.
"I cannot," snapped 'Caius'.
"Then kill her and let us avoid this," said another man, his voice a deep baritone that sounded completely bored.
Caius hissed angrily, his hands finally yanking off of the girl and he took a step away. It was then that Dean was finally able to raise her eyes to look, her heart rate still jack hammering behind her rib cage, but she wasn't nearly in hysterics anymore. She looked first at the man on the far left, dabbing at his lips with a black handkerchief. He had long waves of chocolate brown hair and thick brows. Pale skin like the rest of them, and blood red eyes that made her want to try to run despite the unlikelihood of escape.
Next was the man with the sad child's voice. He too had long dark brunette hair and red eyes, but his face was rounder and he was shorter than both the other men as well. Where the wavey haired man wore robes to cover his clothes, this man was wearing a form fitting suit that made him look taller than he was and a lot more regal than she had expected. He was staring at her in a sad sort of fondness and it was a look of familiarity, like he knew her.
Finally, she dragged her eyes to the one she wanted to look at the least. The only one of the three that she had the name of, Caius. He was at least six feet tall with shoulder length, strait, white blonde hair. Sharp cheek bones, and generous lips to offset the red of his eyes and the pallor of his skin. He was staring at her in pain, anguish even, and that fury she had felt from across the room.
Beyond him was a group of other people, all staring at her in astonishment, some in sadness. For why, she couldn't understand. The dead bodies around her, drained of blood, had her still quaking in her boots, and she still didn't know why she was still breathing? Where was Gabriel? She once again couldn't stand to look for his face among the dead. It was easier not to know for now.
She felt like a coward.
"Why are you here?" Caius asked again, harshly.
As her eyes found his, her mouth felt suddenly dry and a lump the size of Texas lodged itself in her throat. The man in the suit stepped forward, drawing her attention to him.
"My, my...what a dreadfully pleasant surprise!" The man said, face alight with glee. "Let me try," he said, causing Caius to curl his lip but take a step to the side. Dean immediately took a step backwards and the man slowly brought his hands up as if to demonstrate that he were unarmed. "I'm not going to hurt you, mia cara. My name is Aro. May I see your hand?"
"W-why?" Dean finally managed to ask, her voice cracking like a prepubescent little boy. Aro gave her a tender, disarming smile and held his hand out, waiting for her to make the decision on her own.
"I wish to know what it is that you know. It is painless, I assure you."
Dean clenched her fists, grounding herself with the feeling of her nails carving crescent moons into her palms. Caius was still glaring at her like his world had just ended. Everyone in the room seemed to be holding their breath as they watched the interaction. A dark headed boy standing near the young girl she had seen earlier looked excitedly from the girl to Dean, his feet barely able to hold still. The exit was blocked by two burly demon men, watching her closely for any indication of fight or flight.
She fought against her instincts and placed her hand in Aro's.