Hello, lovely people!

I hope you all had a great Christmas and New Year. Apologies for the long wait, this chapter went through many changes before it ended up in a place I was happy with publishing.

UPDATE: I confess, I had to tidy up some mistakes in chapters that followed this one, so it's all sorted now.

Enjoy!

LookAliveSunshine03

WARNING: Contains strong language and mature themes

Chapter 6:

A starving woman

Demetri rankled for self-control. His failures were blatant in all of the vampires still living, still flaunting their existences. It was insulting. How had so many evaded him? At the same time, the sheer number of essences were…overwhelming. It had been many years since he had been in an unfamiliar environment with such a number.

Demetri took a deep, quelling breath. Before they reached Prague, he had explained to Beth how he perceived each essence, how Hazel's reminded him of the colour purple, and a discorded melody that changed constantly. Meanwhile, Julia had tasted sour and challenging to follow.

Beth nodded, solemnly. "Makes sense. But you still sound like a wine connoisseur."

Michael was once the most pleasant; until recently, his essence was not unlike trailing the journey of a babbling brook. Julia's death had hit Michael hard. He remained easy to trace, but the brook had broken its bank and now churned with murkier waters.

Beth had thrown her arms up at that. "Can you blame him? Poor bloke."

Out on Charles Bridge, all manner of essences swirled from every direction. Mist hung in the air, smelling of stagnant water and stone, yet Beth gulped it like a starving woman.

Michael's shoulders were hunched in his baggy shirt; one could almost believe he felt the chill. "Experience tells me glamours are tricky beasts."

Beth smiled, proud and embarrassed. "They're life-savers, though."

"So, can our friend…?" Michael flapped his arms.

N-O, Demetri told Beth. A strange essence, tasting potent like garlic or herbs, was too close. W-E-A-R-E-N-O-T-A-L-O-N-E.

Beth shook her head, exhaling, "Someone else is nearby." In her fear, the red swirls of her glamour blurred around Demetri.

"God…" Michael blew out his cheeks. He reached for a packet of cigarettes and a gold lighter with unsteady fingers.

Without a word, Demetri plucked a matchbox from his shoe. Beth stared, but Michael nodded his thanks.

"Well, then, Demetri," he said. "How many people did you recognise back there, hm?"

Demetri counted off. B-E-N-J-A-M-I-N. T-I-A. B-E-V-E-R-L-E-Y…

"They're all enemies of the Volturi," Beth guessed, and her glamour's maelstrom intensified. "I recognised Benjamin and Tia. The couple dressed in yellow raincoats?"

Michael cocked his head. "Alright, how do you know them? Until now, Benjamin was hidden from the world. Word has it, his abilities are quite something."

Beth gulped. "I've – I've seen them before, from Nessie's memories."

Ah. Demetri sighed.

"Nessie?" Michael was puzzled.

Beth bit her lip, expression conflicted. "R-Renesmee Cullen." Michael gasped, and she rushed on. "I know the Cullens, but who is Beverley?"

"Well, that's the question." Michael hummed, puffing on his cigarette. Then he made a face. "Ugh. God." He spat out the cigarette and tossed it to the ground.

"Er…" Beth treaded on the glowing ashes, blinking in confusion. "Why do it, then?"

Demetri said, H-A-Z-E-L.

Michael stamped on the offending object like vermin under his feet. "In a nutshell, the closer I am to my sisters, the harder it is to block them out. So this is excellent." Michael gestured around the empty streets. "What do you make of the hotel, Beth?"

"I've never seen so many vampires in one place." Beth's mouth twisted. "How are they… feeding?"

"It varies. These people are very conscientious at the moment, but it won't be long before that façade crumbles. God knows when that will be."

"Either way, that's – that's a lot of blood." Beth winced.

Michael looked at her. "But why don't you drink it?"

Beth flinched, eyes flashing to the ground. Whether her unusual silence was out of politeness or annoyance, Demetri could only speculate.

"Oh, come on," Michael cajoled. "You're the first of your kind I've spoken to. Ever. This quandary is new to me."

Beth clenched her jaw. "Look, I know you're curious –"

"Have you killed anyone before?"

Beth gave a horrified squawk.

Y-O-U-M-U-S-T-H-U-N-T, Demetri said.

"But I can't protect y – I can't leave now!" Beth squeaked. She grumbled at Michael's confused expression. "Okay, I probably should have hunted sooner, but I thought this would be a brief mission…"

Demetri didn't doubt Beth's ability to hunt, but she would have to travel out of the city to get what she needed. All while the hotel worked without him to observe it.

And he could not leave Beth's side. Demetri could force her to stay; the thought had crossed his mind. Human blood was plentiful here, and yet…

With a slight tug beneath his ribcage, he recalled how Marcus had dumped a dying human in Beth's room. All to get her to leave Volterra. The wild, screaming look in Beth's eyes had shocked Demetri more than expected.

Why did she stay with him now?

Michael scoffed. "Who am I, Beth, chopped liver? You two go, I stay at the hotel. When you get back, I know someone who'll be happy to spill secrets for you."

Beth tensed. "W-Who?"

"Later, later." Shooing her away, Michael plucked his phone from his pocket. "Call me if you need me."

Prague, it transpired, was home to many forests. Beth had released Demetri from her glamour, leaving him to speak to Michael on the phone at a safe distance.

"I hate to talk about people behind their backs," Michael said. "But that poor girl shouldn't be here. Don't deny you're taking advantage of her."

Demetri sighed, though he could not deny the twinge of guilt. "Beth is willing to help us, Michael."

"Oh, of course, she is. Like any other warm-blooded girl, throwing herself at your feet."

"Warm-blooded?" Demetri echoed, amused.

"Come on, you know what I mean. God." Michael spat. "What number of yellow-eyed people did you see back there? Beth is a freak to the uninformed and an insult to the likes of the Romanians."

"So, they are coming here," Demetri said, something cold and steely settling in his stomach.

Michael insisted, "You should leave now. Beth will be safer for it."

In the distance, Beth hissed in outrage. She was coming back, almost completely silent were it not for her emotional outburst. Demetri turned away from it. "What of the informant you spoke of?"

"Oh. Beth has met him already."

"Radko is a snake in the grass," said Demetri bluntly. He had seen the startled look on Beth face, the tentative smiles whenever Radko spoke.

"He will charm our young friend. She might…" Michael searched for the right tact. "Go astray?"

"Radko would have to gain Beth's trust first," Demetri conceded. "It will take the time we do not have."

"Well, I will watch out for her," Michael said with sudden solemnity. "If you like. It is the very least I can do, given your predicament."

"Thank you, Michael. It is not often I find myself under such constrictive protection."

"I can tell you greatly appreciate it," Michael went on. "Just don't forget to tell her that you do."

"I won't," Demetri said. The young woman in question had frozen in place beside him, her gaze snapping with bright hurt.

And Beth rose her voice so Michael could hear. "We'll see you shortly. Do watch out for me, won't you?" She stared Demetri down, whispering a bitter, "You're welcome."

They returned to the hotel in silence. It was quieter now, with most guests in their rooms.

"Ah, Radko's not here," said Michael, making Beth jump. Then, leading them upstairs, he checked his watch. "Probably entertaining a lucky lady."

Beth sounded uncomfortable. "And by entertaining, you mean…?"

"Oh, yes," Michael said. "Though, sadly for me, Radko has eyes only for the gentler sex."

Beth scoffed, her tension softening. "Gentle?"

"Hm. I share your cynicism," Michael said warmly. "Whoever coined that phrase never met my sisters."

Beth laughed, surprised. "Nor me!"

Michael's eyes crinkled. "There you are! No need to look so frightened, Beth."

"I'm not frightened," she retorted, but continued to smile.

Michael's floor had a strong pulse, booming with loud music and the unmistakeable, undulating sounds of sex. Panicked, Beth glanced around her, fixating on the glitter balls. Demetri wanted to know what she thought about, as her glamour's swirls ebbed and flowed like leaves caught in an unsettled breeze.

Then Beth looked over at Michael, whose expression had grown wistful. Her mouth worked uncertainly, before finally asking, "How much do you remember about your human life?"

Her sentimentality bewildered Demetri, sometimes. Nevertheless, Michael hummed. "Oh, bits and pieces. There's nostalgia to be had, all the same." He wafted a hand at the glitterball overhead. "These never go out of style, do they?"

Beth grinned, agreeing with him. "Which is your favourite decade?"

Michael considered this. "The Eighties was a bittersweet decade, but –"

"Good music, though," Beth said. Her eyes immediately widened, afraid that she had rudely interrupted him.

But it was the right thing to say, as Michael's voice swelled. "Oh, transcendent music, yes. Then the Nineties happened."

"Girl power!" Beth punched the air, buoyed by his blatant joy, and Demetri was struck by a sudden certainty. Whatever happened, his companions would work well together.

Beth paced around Michael's room, trying to ignore the loud, animal sounds of people having sex down the corridor. She was hit by a horrified, thrilling thought: was that the hotel's special treatment?

Of course, Radko was gorgeous to look at, and he liked to talk, which was fine. Beth had been surrounded by men like that her whole life and knew when to tune them out or call them out on their bullshit.

Still, it humiliated her to think it, but Beth wondered…what it felt like to be entertained like that.

She could feel Michael watching her move around. He sounded vaguely amused, maybe sympathetic. "Penny for your thoughts?"

Ever invisible under her eye, Demetri waited on the bed. With a sigh, Beth finally sat down, and he placed a hand on her shoulder. A small part of her marvelled as his contact relaxed her enough to speak.

"So…you're saying I should butter Radko up?"

Y-E-S.

Beth cringed. "Okay. Er, I can charm humans fine. But this guy? Unlikely."

"The trick is to not overthink it, babe," Michael said from the wall. "Just be yourself, ask him questions, and the rest will follow."

"Just like that. Jesus Christ…" Beth grimaced as the happy woman reached her crescendo. She resisted the urge to cover her ears.

Michael cleared his throat, his voice shaking with mirth. "Radko will be available soon."

"Fabulous." Dropping her head in her hands, a laugh bubbled in Beth's throat. I'm not emotionally mature enough for this.

She could still feel Demetri behind her. God, he was so quiet. What was he thinking? Damn, her flawless glamour! Beth clenched her teeth, forcing down a bubble of hysteria. Just how far did the Volturi expect her to go to get intel, anyway? She took a breath, sliding off the bed.

Demetri looked surprised as Beth joined him beneath her glamour.

"Er, sweetie, what are you doing?" Michael jolted away from the wall.

Beth opened the door a crack. "I don't want Radko to see me yet."

Two rooms down, Radko had stepped out into the corridor. He straightened his collar with a quick, decisive motion. Beth's stomach fluttered: his shirt was faintly see-through, and those trousers were fucking tight. Watching him go, she battled her growing excitement and disgust –

What the hell am I doing?

From within another room, a throaty female voice asked, "Tomorrow?"

Radko stopped. He did not turn, lowering his proud head. With a sigh, he issued a silent prayer. Only then did he return to the doorway, his expression igniting to a smoulder. "Tomorrow, my dear. Until then…"

The woman giggled, rasping out something filthy – and Radko's smile was a cry for help.

"What?" Michael hissed, hovering behind Beth. "What – what is going on?"

She jumped back as Radko spun around. He frowned, confused. Behind him, Benjamin and Tia walked to the stop of the stairs. Their yellow raincoats were gone, and he kissed Tia's knuckles, as natural as their smiles.

"We should take another stroll," Benjamin said, red eyes gleaming. "I hear…Tia?"

His mate was frowning, looking out towards the ground floor. There were raised voices. "Benjamin, what – what is happening?" She asked, soft and scared as a child.

Radko slipped past the pair, resuming his cheery, professional demeanour. "Please, excuse me," he smiled. "The show is about to begin."

Benjamin and Tia exchanged looks. His face lit up. "We did not know there would be in-house entertainment here. Are guests allowed to perform?"

Tia squeezed him playfully before murmuring, "I want you to myself," or something to that effect. If anything, it made the mischievous glint in Benjamin's eyes brighten just a little.

"Yes, of course," he beamed. "Please, lead the way, Radko."

A look of resignation flickered across Radko's face. Beth wondered if he wished he hadn't said anything. "Here, sir…"

All the while, voices were rising downstairs. "What," Michael all but screamed with incredible restraint, "is going on?!"

"Shit. Sorry." Beth shook her glamour off herself. "Radko is going downstairs. Let's go, let's go!"

"Okay, okay!" Michael gestured towards where he thought Demetri stood. "But only if I get to…do this. That racket downstairs can't be choir practice, and I don't want to get caught in any crossfires."

"Will it come to that?" Beth squeaked.

"I don't know, but I'd prefer to flee while hidden!"

"Yes, fine. Just keep close!"

"Thank you…" Michael fumbled with shutting his door behind them, muttering about how warm he felt. Fortunately, the young couple was too preoccupied to notice anything unusual.

The scent of blood was far thicker now while Iona moved amongst the guests, soothing them like flowers in water. The women who saw Radko giggled or were bold enough to cop a feel if he was unlucky enough to pass their way.

Beth registered the fear in Tia and Benjamin's eyes, as they approached the staircase. It made the mass excitement below look all kinds of inappropriate, but it begged the obvious question.

What are they afraid of?

To be continued...