The silent iPhone felt like a weight in Renesmee's pocket. She'd powered it off immediately after sending the fateful texts to Jacob and her parents. She couldn't help but imagine their reactions as they read it.
"Are you alright?" asked Nahuel. He looked at her from the driver's seat as he twisted down the Italian country roads.
"I'm fine," Renesmee responded. Despite the twisted knot of guilt building in her stomach, she didn't regret her decision. Nahuel had chosen her. Nothing could tear them apart now.
Renesmee stared out the window at the countryside. She'd never left the Pacific Northwest before. The wide-open fields seemed to span forever. The sky seemed massive without the mountains and forests surrounding them. Renesmee couldn't help but feel exposed. Someone could easily be watching them from miles away.
Nahuel seemed at ease, so Renesmee tried not to worry. As they continued, the countryside gave way to a forest. Short, bushy trees lined either side of the road. He wove through the woods until they reached a small farmhouse nestled in the hillside. He put the car in park and stepped outside. She reached into the back and grabbed the duffel bag full of the few possessions she'd brought from her dorm. She followed his lead.
"This is where I've been living," Nahuel said. "It's not much."
The square house was made of pale, irregular stones. It looked like it'd been pieced together with stones found nearby rather than typical bricks. The red shingles were curved, like waves of terracotta atop the simple abode.
"It's beautiful," she said. Any place that contained Nahuel was perfect, as far as she was concerned.
"Let me show you inside," he said.
The interior was just as quaint as the exterior. The cozy living room reminded Nessie of her parents' little cottage on the outskirts of Forks.
Renesmee's attention was captured by an easel sitting near a window on the northern wall of the living room. The small window let in a narrow ray of afternoon light, which shone vibrantly on the canvas, accentuating every intricate detail captured on the canvas. She couldn't stop herself from drifting across the room to capture a closer look. On the canvas, there was a portrait of a beautiful human woman. Her skin was nearly as pale as a vampire's, but it lacked the marble-like perfection. Her complexion had a vibrant lively golden cast to it.
The canvas had a bulge from layers and layers of paint on the canvas, like the woman was trying to find her way off the canvas and into the world. Renesmee couldn't imagine why the painting was still on the easel as if it were incomplete. The painting looked perfect.
"My mother," explained Nahuel. He stepped forward to stand beside Renesmee and observe the painting with her. "My only memory of her is while she was on her deathbed. I like to imagine what she might have looked like before I drained the life out of her. Painting is my way of trying to get to know her."
Once he mentioned their relation, the familial resemblance became glaringly obvious. She had passed down her strong cheekbone and narrow teak eyes. Though she had long since passed, it was clear that her beauty still lived on in her son.
"She's beautiful," Renesmee said.
"She was," Nahuel sighed. "At least, that's what Huilen tells me. She helps me as much as she can, but human memories fade. Even she can't recall Pire's exact features. I can never quite get it right."
He gestured to a pile of canvases piled up against the wall.
"Do you mind if I look at them?" Renesmee asked.
"Go ahead," Nahuel said.
Renesmee flipped through the canvas. In every picture, Pire had the same loving expression. There was pure bliss in her smile and adoration in her eyes. Most featured the same pose and featureless background, but no two pictures were identical.
No picture was a recreation of his memory, but whispers of history's true horrors lingered in the details. In one photo, Pire's cheeks were too sallow. In another, her hair was wiry and thin. Deep circles were under her eyes. These little flaws would've been easy to overlook if it weren't for the fact that they reminded Renesmee of her own first memory of Bella's face. She imagined Pire must've been in a similar state. Unlike Pire, Bella lived on as a vampire.
"You're a good painter," she complimented.
"Thank you," Nahuel said. He continued on with the tour.
He led her to the kitchen. The sleek, modern appliances looked out of place beside the old kitchen cabinets.
"This is where I do most of my cooking," Nahuel said. "I usually pack a lunch for Dante before I go to Volterra."
The name of the ancient vampire's home sent a shiver down her spine.
"Is Volterra nearby?" she asked.
"We're only about ten miles west of the town, but there aren't any roads that run straight there from here, so it takes a while to get there by car," he said.
She nodded. Whether it was ten miles or ten thousand miles, the Volturi had repeatedly proven that they'd go any distance to find her whenever they wanted to. The close proximity wasn't overly concerning to her, but she didn't want them to think she was infringing on their town.
Nahuel led her into the bedroom. The room was nearly as large as the living room. The southern wall had a full bookshelf and a desk nearby. A full-size bed was centered along the eastern wall. The blanket on top had a bright geometric pattern. It seemed to contrast the Italian décor. She assumed he'd brought it along from South America.
"I love your house. It's so cozy." she complimented. She set her duffel bag down and sat down on the edge of the bed, hoping he would join her.
He stood by the bedpost and nodded. "It's not much, but it's nice to have a place to rest away from the city."
She stood up from the bed and closed the distance between them. She put her hands on his chest. "And it's private."
He put his hands on hers, preventing her from sliding her hands upwards towards his face.
"Yes," he agreed. "Will you be comfortable staying here alone on your own?"
She nodded. She didn't want to be alone, but traveling with him to Volterra was out of the question.
"I'm afraid I have to leave you here for now. I need to go into the city to check on the boys," he slid her hands down.
"Okay," Renesmee frowned.
"I'll be back before dark," he promised. He kissed her forehead and disappeared. Was she imagining it, or was Nahuel dodging her advances? He had to care about her, didn't he? He'd traveled halfway around the world for her. She couldn't let this fall apart. He was all she had left.
She spent the day thinking about him. The forest seemed unwelcoming without him by her side. She wondered what else could be lurking in the shadows…
As he promised, he returned as the sun was setting. She wrapped him in a hug as he walked in the door.
He politely returned the hug, but she could tell his guard was still up.
"What's wrong?" She asked him.
"Nothing," he said.
She didn't believe him. She pressed her hand against his cheek so he could see what she saw.
He sighed and removed her hand from his cheek. "I do want to be with you, but I'm not in a hurry to be compared to your werewolf."
He pulled away and headed to the shower.
Renesmee waited for him from the bedroom. She took off all of her clothes. She searched through her duffel bag and found one article of clothing usually reserved for the winter. She laid on top of the covers and waited. He entered the bedroom wrapped in a towel.
"What are you up to?" he asked.
"I thought about what you said and I thought of a plan," she revealed her hands from behind her back, showing him the pair of bright red gloves.
Nahuel looked at her in disbelief. "Your solution is to wear gloves?"
"They'll stop me from killing the mood," Renesmee promised.
He looked at her with an unenthusiastic expression. He stared at her for a long second, calculating. Fortunately for her, she was literally the only eligible bachelorette of his species.
"Okay," he said, accepting his fate.
Renesmee grinned in delight as he dropped the towel and joined her on the bed.
As much as she hates to admit it, the gloves were a necessity. Memories of that other night swirled through her head, filling her heart with longing that Nahuel couldn't satisfy. It was a relief to know there was a barrier protecting her thoughts from escaping her head. She didn't try to stop the comparisons that formed in her mind.
But longing was not regret. She was determined to find a way to make things work with Nahuel, no matter how long it took.
It didn't take long for them to fall into a routine. Every morning, she woke to the delicious smell of his cooking.
After breakfast, he packed up meals for Dante, then left for Volterra around sunrise.
She spent her days in the farmhouse, waiting for him to return. Within two weeks, she'd read through most of his books. They weren't the topics she would normally read, but it was fascinating to be able to analyze his interests. The bookshelf was like a glimpse inside his head. She liked to imagine what he might have been thinking as he chose these titles to add to his collection.
Nahuel always returned around sunset. Some evenings, they'd say in. Other times, they'd go out and he'd give her a tour of the countryside or a nearby town. They gave Volterra a wide berth. She was too cautious of the Volturi to ask him to take her hunting, though his cooking was so amazing, it was hardly a loss.
At the end of the day, they'd retire together in bed.
This was her favorite time of the day. She loved falling asleep in the crook of his arm. His even heartbeat was a comfort, reminding her of simpler times.
The little house was so much quieter than her chaotic dorm. She could rest easy knowing she would never be woken in the middle of the night by an unexpected voice.
Well, almost never.
"Nahuel," whispered a small voice. Renesmee felt the bed shake.
"Hmph?" Nahuel groaned as he woke from his slumber.
She opened her eyes as she felt his arm lift up from around her as he rolled over to assess what had woken him.
"Dante?" Nahuel mumbled. "Go back to Volterra."
"I had a bad dream," replied Aro's youngest son.
"Yeah, that happens. It's just in your head. Go to sleep," Nahuel rolled his head back as he tried to take his own advice.
"I know it's not real, but I woke up and she was still there, staring at me," Dante's voice quivered. Renesmee closed her eyes again. She was half asleep and in no mood to try and figure out what he was talking about. These words meant something to Nahuel, though.
He sighed. "Your dad talked to her. Jane won't hurt you."
"She scares me," Dante whimpered.
"I know buddy," Nahuel responded. "I know."
"Can I sleep with you?" Dante asked.
"Renesmee's here," Nahuel complained.
"That's okay, I don't care," Dante assured him.
Nahuel sighed and looked down at Renesmee. "Do you mind?"
"It's fine," she lied.
Nahuel looked back at Dante. "Alright."
Dante jumped up on the bed as Nahuel continued.
"Just this once, you can stay here. But we're not making a habit of this!" Nahuel insisted.
Dante nestled his way into the space between Nahuel and Renesmee and curled up in the crook of Nahuel's arm. Renesmee turned her back to them to hide her disappointment, not that either was looking. Within seconds, she could hear their steady breathing as they drifted to sleep.
She was woken by a disturbance as the boys rose from the bed. Morning light shone in through the window, illuminating the room.
"Good morning," Nahuel said. "He came to us in the night. I was just about to take him back to the city."
She raised her head in confusion. She saw Nahuel standing rigidly beside the bed. Dante was behind him. He clung to Nahuel's wrist and hung his head in shame.
She began to pull herself upright to see what had caused the commotion.
She saw three cloaked figures standing at the foot of her bed with Aro at the point.
A gasp escaped Renesmee's lips as she tried to stifle the scream that built in her chest.
As her eyes met his, a grin spread across his face like the Cheshire cat. His eyes bore into her intensely, like she was a rare specimen trapped in a jar in a mad scientist's lab.
She could hear her own heart racing in her chest. All of her nightmares flashed through her mind. She pushed the thoughts away quickly.
She reminded herself that Aro's gift only worked with physical contact. He couldn't see what was going on inside her head now, not like her own mind-reading father would've been able to.
The figure to his left hovered over him protectively. Renesmee recognized her as Renata, Aro's personal shield. Her concern was hardly necessary now, given that neither she nor Nahuel had any prayer in a fight against a full vampire.
On his right was Jane. She glared at Renesmee with a hatred so visceral, Renesmee knew it was personal.
Renesmee was caught off guard by how young the powerful vampire looked. When they'd last met, everyone looked old to Renesmee's child eyes, but now, she realized that Jane had been transformed into a vampire when she was just a child.
She knew these two would not be the only members of the Volturi guard present. The rest of the guard probably had the house surrounded—not that she could outrun a vampire.
"I'm so sorry Renesmee," Aro's face twisted in faux sympathy. "I did not mean to wake you. I'm afraid my son ran off in the night."
At the word son, Jane's eyes flitted to the small child whose robes were darker than her own. The corners of her mouth twisted down in an expression that was almost pouty. Was that jealousy? Dante took a step further behind Nahuel. The older hybrid reached behind him and scooped the child up into his arm.
"Yes, I was going to make him breakfast, then bring him back to Volterra, as I always do," Nahuel said. His response made it clear that Dante's midnight visit was not an anomaly. "This visit was unnecessary."
He shot Renesmee an apologetic glance.
"Of course," Aro purred. "One can never be too careful."
He turned partially as if he were turning to leave. There was a brief, foolish moment in which Renesmee thought they were in the clear. She let out a breath that she'd been holding since she laid eyes on him.
"While we're here," Aro's eyes locked back on Renesmee—as if an errant thought had disrupted him while he was leaving.
She froze again. At least, she tried to freeze. Involuntary shaking prevented her from remaining as immobile as a vampire could be.
"Tomorrow is a full moon," Aro said. "Felix informed me that you witnessed a Child of the Moon."
She stayed silent, unsure where he was headed. She had lost track of the passing days. It seemed like it'd been a lifetime since she'd spotted the beast. She wasn't sure why Aro was bringing it up now. She didn't have the faintest clue where the monster had gone, nor what it was planning this month.
"I'm sending Felix to see to it that the creature is appropriately handled," Aro continued. "Since you were the one who caught sight of it before, I was hoping you could provide insight that may assist us in destroying this enemy."
Such a simple request, but she knew he wasn't really giving her a choice. Refusing would be incriminating. She couldn't let him think she was in league with the Child of the Moon.
She let her mind go blank as she reached out and touched his papery hand.
He clasped his hand around hers. His eyes lit up with curiosity. "Fascinating," Aro purred. He let her hand drop.
As soon as they broke contact, the floodgates in her mind burst. She let her mind fill with every thought and implication she didn't want at the forefront of her mind as he read it.
He knew everything.
Every night with Nahuel. Every confliction over Jacob. Her childhood. Her hopes. Her fears. Everything.
Aro started talking again, grandiosely declaring his exit. She didn't hear a single word he said. Her mind was in the past. Stuck on a night more than five and a half years prior.
It had been the first night after the encounter with the Volturi when everything had returned to normal. The last of the allies had left. Her family had fallen back into their previous routine.
For everyone else, the month leading up to the confrontation was just a brief disturbance within their immortality, but for her, the preparations had dominated a third of her life. Tension had become her normal.
As Bella had tucked her in bed, she looked at Nessie with relief. For the first time in Renesmee's life, Bella could rest easy, believing she'd have forever with her daughter.
For Nessie, she had had the opposite revelation. Before Irina spotted her, she had never had a reason to doubt she'd have forever with her family. But after meeting the Volturi, Renesmee began to truly understand their relative mortality.
"Momma," Nessie had asked. "Are the Volturi going to come back?"
Bella had leaned forward and kissed her forehead before answering honestly. "I don't know. But you don't need to worry about that. We'll be here to protect you again."
But Renesmee did worry. She knew it was only a matter of time before this moment occurred. She would face Aro again and everything she'd done would be known.
The first time she touched Aro, her thoughts had not been enough to convince him. She vowed that would never happen again. From that moment on, she made sure that her thoughts would stand as her testimony. She was good. She wasn't a threat. Everything bad that had happened was the result of forces beyond her control.
Most of all: no regret.
Regret was evidence of wrongdoing served on a silver platter for the accuser to use as ammunition against her. How could she defend herself if she too believed she'd misstepped? No. She never allowed herself to doubt that she'd been anything but her best.
Her family had nearly sacrificed everything to protect her. It was her duty to return the favor and ensure there was nothing in her mind that could be used to condemn them all ever again.
Aro left the farmhouse without commenting any further on her thoughts. Was that it? Was this the end? Had she finally convinced him she wasn't a threat?
She didn't think so. She knew he was still the boogieman in her nightmares. Now, he knew it too. She needed to do more. She needed to convince him she wasn't afraid of him. To do that, she needed to convince herself.
There wasn't a single doubt in her mind that they would meet again. And until then, she needed to be perfect. No more negative thoughts about Aro. Ever. The Volturi were good. They were responsible for maintaining order. The world was a better place with them in it.
Yes, this was all true. These were the words that must stay at the forefront of her thoughts. If she failed—no. She couldn't think about that. Failing was not an option.
Chapter Playlist:
Little Girl Gone - Chinchilla - Jane
Set the Fire to the Third Bar - Snow Patrol - Jacob
Insane - Black Gryph0n - Aro
