Char POV

"That's interesting," Peter said, his voice steady but edged with curiosity. "So, if you were to test a newborn and discovered they had a latent gift, would you allow them to develop it, or would you simply discard them?"

I couldn't tell if it was sheer luck or sheer stupidity, but somehow, we were still here. Somehow, we had managed to convince the Romanians that we were worth keeping around. Though, if I had to guess, it had less to do with anything we'd said and more to do with the fact that Peter and I made for promising test subjects. But I couldn't be entirely sure of that either.

For a duo so inclined to keep to themselves, they were surprisingly eager to discuss the potential they saw here—and I couldn't understand why. One would think they'd want to keep this as secretive as possible. After all, no vampire would take kindly to the kind of experimentation happening here. And yet, the two of them spoke about it with an almost unsettling enthusiasm.

Stefan leaned forward in his chair, eyes gleaming with interest at the direction the conversation was taking. "It depends on the gift," he said, his voice thoughtful. "If it's something useful, something that could further our research or contribute to our goals, we'd allow it to develop. If not... well, the newborn might be seen as expendable. We have no use for them if they don't serve a purpose."

The casual way he spoke about their treatment of newborns sent a shiver down my spine. There was no morality in their actions, just a cold, scientific detachment. They viewed lives—vampire or human—as mere tools to achieve their vision.

Peter kept pressing. "And if the gift is something... unexpected, like the ability to disrupt or counter your research? Would you still keep them around?"
Vladimir's eyes narrowed slightly, but there was no immediate answer. It was as though he was considering the scenario with a level of seriousness that he hadn't given to any other part of the conversation.

"Anything that could potentially disrupt our research would be... dealt with accordingly," Vladimir said finally, his tone dark and cold. "We don't tolerate interference."

I could see exactly where this was heading. Peter was testing the waters, gauging just how far the Romanians were willing to go in their pursuit of knowledge and control. It was a delicate game—teasing out their willingness to discuss something as significant as a gift without pressing too hard or raising suspicion. But subtlety had not really been Peter's strong suit. Frankly, I was surprised he hadn't just held up a sign that read, "Where is the Sorcerer? We want to burn him!"

As much as I hated to admit it, these vampires were dangerous in a way that made the Volturi seem almost predictable. And if we didn't tread carefully, we wouldn't just be observers in their experiments—we'd be a part of them, whether we liked it or not.

"Fascinating," Peter remarked in a believable and completely enthralled tone, "so what do we have to thank for the impenetrable barrier out front? Is that something that you're working on in the lab, too?" The Romanians look at each other and seemingly have a silent conversation before Stefan responds, "It's not something that we are intentionally working on, no."

Peter raised an eyebrow, sensing there was more to the story. "Not intentionally, huh?" he asked, his voice laced with subtle skepticism. "Then how did it come to be? Surely there's a reason for such an effective defense."

We knew the answer already; there was really no reason to ask or play coy other than keeping face with the Romanians. We had to act like we didn't know, so whatever game they were willing to play with us, we'd play along—for now. There was no need to tip our hand, no reason to make a move too soon. If we acted too eager or suspicious, they might see through our pretense. Instead, we'd stay quiet, observe, and bide our time until we could figure out how to dismantle the facade they had so carefully constructed.

Stefan glanced over at Vladimir, who gave a slight nod before Stefan answered, "It's a side effect of sorts. Our research on enhancing our defenses... well, it has unforeseen consequences sometimes. The barrier is a result of one of our test subjects—a protective field that appeared unexpectedly when we were manipulating certain aspects within the castle. It's not something we can control with precision, but it serves its purpose for now."

The explanation felt both vague and troubling. It sounded like an experiment on a newborn that had gone awry, though it had clearly worked to their advantage. However, we knew the truth: there was a Sorcerer here, and they were the ones who had created the barrier. How and when the Romanians had discovered this vampire's ability remained unclear, but for now, they seemed content to offer the simplest and least questionable explanation.

Yet their attitude toward this vampire was disturbingly casual. They seemed oddly nonchalant about the Sorcerer's existence—willing to accept it as a safeguard as long as it served their purposes. There was an eerie calm in their acceptance, as though they had no intention of probing deeper into the forces they had inadvertently set in motion. It was unsettling, like watching someone juggle with fire, blissfully unaware of how quickly it could burn them.

I exchanged a look with Peter, who seemed to weigh the words carefully. He knew that the Romanians were hiding more, but I could sense he was letting them unravel their story at their own pace.

"So it's just... a happy accident?" Peter asked, maintaining the farce of interest, though I could tell he was just as skeptical as I was.

Vladimir snorted at the suggestion. "Initially, perhaps, but now? Hardly. We've learned to live with it. If we could harness it properly, we'd use it for much more than just keeping out intruders. But for now, it remains unpredictable."

Sounded just like a newborn to me.

"Unpredictable but useful," Stefan added, his eyes flicking between us. "We'll see what we can do with it when we have more time to focus on it."

Yep. Absolutely a newborn.

The conversation was veering into a territory I wasn't entirely comfortable with. That they were referring to a vampire as no more than a test subject was bad enough, but their disregard for consequences—both human and vampire alike—was becoming clearer with every word. It was one thing to experiment on willing subjects, but quite another to treat everything as a mere test for their convenience, no matter the cost.

Peter gave a nonchalant nod, as if he accepted their answer, though I could feel the tension building between us. We were slowly getting the pieces we needed, but the bigger picture was still hidden behind layers of carefully crafted mystery. And I had a feeling it wasn't just the vampire possessing the barrier that was something they didn't fully understand.

"Enough talk," Stephan suddenly growls, breaking the silence. "Why don't we show them around a bit, Vlad? See what their mettle is made of."

"I think that's a brilliant plan," Vladimir agrees. "Perhaps we'll see what Maria and her ilk are up to as well."

The last thing I wanted was to cross paths with that bitch and her followers, but it was part of the job. Whether I liked it or not, meeting her was inevitable. I looked at Peter to gauge his reaction and could only imagine what he was going through, knowing how close we were to her. I couldn't even begin to fathom the mental gymnastics his mind must've been performing—not just to keep himself alive, but to ensure we both made it out of this in one piece.

"Please," Peter said smoothly, his voice completely unruffled. "Lead the way."

It didn't take the two older vampires long to begin the tour. I wasn't expecting much, considering the throne room looked decrepit and worn, but as we ventured deeper into the fortress, I began to notice more modern touches. Some of the rooms we passed through had a sterile, clinical feel, and it was clear that observation windows had been added to most of them—likely so these ancient vampires could observe the experiments from a comfortable distance, whenever they wished.

But if they were the ones observing, then who was actually running the experiments? The question slipped out before I could stop it. "Who's in charge of keeping all of your experimentation in order? Keeping track of subjects and procedures seems like a lot of work. I can't help but be impressed by whoever handles the day-to-day management of all this."

"It is certainly a lot of work," Stefan replied. Was that a sigh of exasperation I heard? I had a feeling his frustration had less to do with the burden of managing the experiments and more to do with my constant questioning—but I'd been wrong before.

Interrupting my internal monologue, he continued, "However, Vlad and I are mostly concerned with the final results of the experimentation you'll see in this fortress. The running of the day-to-day is typically handled by our own progeny."

Vladimir picked up seamlessly, "Vampires we turned centuries ago, ones with loyalty to no one but us. They obey without question because we granted them eternal life. Doing this sort of work," he waved a hand lazily down the corridor, "is nothing to them."

We continued trailing the two Romanians, weaving through corridors and passing countless rooms that had been modernized and upgraded with what seemed like the most expensive scientific equipment money could buy. Each space seemed more unsettling than the last. It made me question where all of this funding came from and why it wasn't used for the remainder of the fortress.

"These rooms," Stefan said, gesturing toward the observation windows lining both sides of the hallway, "are dedicated to studying vampire venom at a cellular level. We analyze its DNA structure, examine what a single venom cell is capable of, measure how long it takes for a human to turn from just one cell, and observe what happens when a venom cell is destroyed. Does it trigger a chain reaction? Does it attempt to repair itself?"

As fascinating as this was, it was also deeply unsettling. The fact that these questions were even being asked in the first place made me uneasy, but what truly sent a chill through me was the idea of testing how long it would take for a human to turn from just one venom cell. To me, that sounded less like science and more like torture.

We turned a corner, stepping into a section filled with scientific equipment—some in use, some abandoned mid-process. Through the observation windows, I could see a few older vampires huddled together, their gazes fixed on clipboards and scattered pages. I couldn't hear their conversation, but the intensity on their faces spoke volumes.

Vladimir picked up the monologue, his voice carrying an almost theatrical edge. "In these rooms, we study the human itself. We all know we were human once, but like titans before us, we never truly understood what the human body was capable of—until we pushed its limits."

He smiled, as if sharing an inside joke. "Some of our trials focus on blood. Of course, we have to keep anyone under a century old out of this wing—the call of blood is simply too much for the younger ones."

Stefan smirked in return, their amusement at the thought both unsettling and telling.

"The tests we conduct here are driven by curiosity," Vladimir continued. "We examine how human hormones shift when one of us enters the room, how brain chemistry changes when they're being glamoured, and how their blood reacts when close to vampire venom. Does it reach for eternal life? Does it recoil from the predator? Or does it remain unchanged?"

"And that," Stefan interjected with growing excitement, "is the most fascinating part. In this space, we can determine if a human's fear of us is something embedded in the blood itself, or if it's purely chemical."

Vladimir questions, "Do some humans simply lack self-preservation? If they do fear us, is that response rooted at a cellular level, or is it something more instinctual? And if they don't fear us… what is missing from them?"Their curiosity was chilling. To them, this wasn't just research—it was a puzzle they were determined to solve, no matter what it cost their test subjects.

To these two ancient vampires, the subjects of their experiments were nothing more than disposable tools, and the realization sickened me to my very core. They had long since forgotten what it meant to care for anyone beyond themselves. They had lost any sense of— for lack of a better word—humanity.

At least in Volterra, I was valued for more than just what I brought to the Guard. I felt love and kindness from Bella, my father, and my family. I felt appreciation from those I chose to surround myself with. There, I felt–ironically–alive.

Here, the complete disregard for others was worse than I had anticipated. I understood fear, the pain of sending others into battle knowing they might not return. But this? This was something else entirely. This was cold. This was cruel. This was monstrous.

And the worst part? If I wanted to survive, I had to pretend I was just like them. I had to act as if this was normal. As if this didn't repulse me.

I could only imagine what Peter must have been feeling. The thought alone nearly made me sick.

But I had to keep up the farce, so I forced an expression of awe and exclaimed, "This entire setup is absolutely incredible! The amount of information you could uncover here is truly fascinating." They seemed to buy it, but I couldn't be sure. "Is there anything else you're researching that's as fascinating as this? Something we haven't seen yet?"

The Romanians exchanged a silent look before Vladimir, clearly more eager to discuss this kind of research, answered with an almost unsettling enthusiasm. "Magic."

I caught the almost mad glint in his eyes, and something in my stomach twisted.

Stefan, however, seemed to relax slightly before finally admitting, "We lied to you before," neither Peter nor I showed any ill will at this revelation, so he continued, "but we had to be sure of your intentions before we shared anything further. Now that you've shown you're truly behind us, we'll be honest. Apart from having a true magician on our staff—who you'll meet later and we'll explain further—there's one more experiment we've been working on. I believe now is as good a time as any to explain that particular test."

He led us down another hallway, to a section that housed a single large room. Through the windows, I could see several humans and two newborn vampires. My pulse quickened, and I couldn't shake the feeling that things were about to get much worse.

"The magic we're most interested in," Stefan revealed with excitement, "is whether we can undo this vampiric life and become human again." His eyes gleamed with a disturbing intensity. "We have the Magician there," he pointed to a vampire standing off to the side—under normal circumstances, he would have been completely unremarkable. Bland. Unmemorable. The kind of creature you wouldn't give a second glance, yet somehow he blended seamlessly into the background, not quite invisible, but effortlessly overlooked. I wondered if it was an effect of the gift, or if it was his choice to seem so unassuming. "He's here to help with this particular set of tests."

Finally, I had eyes on my target.

"We saw Keith's shield manifest when he was only about a month into this life," Vladimir continued, a note of awe in his voice. "Since then, he's been honing his powers into pure magic." As Vladimir spoke, I felt it—the atmosphere subtly shifting, a quiet unease creeping up from the back of my mind. Something was unsettling about the way he spoke of Keith, as though the mention of his abilities was more than just admiration. It felt like a warning, a prayer, and an invitation all at once. "He's been training and learning to hone these skills ever since. We don't fully understand how he's able to do it–,"

Stefan jumped in, his tone cutting through the air. "—but that doesn't concern us. The how and the why aren't important. As long as he's useful to us, he has a purpose. Right now, his focus is to keep this place running harmoniously and to see if magic is the key to making one of us human again."

Keith's abilities added an entirely new layer to their operation that I hadn't considered. More questions flooded my mind. If someone like him, wielding magic, was helping to keep the whole system running smoothly—on top of everything else we'd already seen—I feared what we had already witnessed wasn't a mere side effect, as Stefan had stated earlier. It was a deliberate, calculated safeguard. A safeguard that could derail our entire mission if we weren't careful.

"So, this Keith," Peter asked casually, his tone light but carrying an underlying curiosity, "How exactly does he assist in the day-to-day around here? Sounds like quite the useful individual."

Vladimir grinned, clearly proud. "Keith is a talent like no other. He has helped us build our most powerful defensive spells and reinforced the cohesion among our newborns and our workers. It's much easier to get things done when you have someone ensuring that everyone works together smoothly—no distractions, no interruptions. It makes us all... stronger. More unified."

I barely contained a shudder. The idea of magical manipulation to enforce unity and cohesion was unsettling. And worse, if the magic was subtle enough, it could affect our ability to maintain a level of independence in our actions. If we weren't careful, we could find ourselves too caught up in the unity of their goal, making us less effective in achieving ours.

Stefan, sensing the direction of the conversation, chimed in, "Keith's magic doesn't just stop with cohesion. It's also a means of protection. No one can break into the castle unnoticed—not with our magical defenses. And the laboratory... Well, let's just say that nothing escapes our research program without our knowing."

Peter nodded slowly, feigning casual interest. "It sounds like Keith is integral to everything you're doing here. I'm impressed." Ever perceptive, he must have noticed the same shift in the atmosphere. His eyes flicked to mine, a subtle signal that we needed to stay on high alert. I could tell that Peter wasn't truly impressed. He was simply gathering information—like me, piecing together the puzzle that was unfolding in front of us.

We had to assume that this magic—one we'd never encountered before—was in play and had been since we arrived. And if we were going to survive, we'd have to navigate around it, carefully, without alerting them to our awareness. If magic was indeed at play here, it was likely influencing everything in the castle—our every move, our every thought. It could all be affected, altered without us even realizing it. And if, as we feared, it had been placed on everyone, our ability to operate freely would be severely compromised.

The tour of the laboratory, acknowledging the magical defenses, and the sense of unity the Romanians had hinted at, all hinted at one underlying truth: this place was far more controlled than it appeared. Their experiments, their testing, their supposed "evolution of vampires"—it was all being kept under a very tight grip. And if we weren't careful, we could find ourselves under the same control.

The question now was: how much influence had Keith's magic already had on us without us realizing it? Could we still trust ourselves to act freely, or had we already been subtly influenced by the magic surrounding us?

I had always known Keith was a kill-on-sight target, but now I was starting to grasp just how critical it was to eliminate that threat. The weight of it was sinking in, and the stakes were far higher than I had initially imagined.

"Where is the funding coming from for all of this?" I couldn't help but ask. Despite the crumbling fortress surrounding us, the research facilities were equipped with state-of-the-art machinery.

"Anonymous backer," Vladimir responded flatly.

"Really?" Peter asked, clearly puzzled. "That seems a bit suspicious. Haven't you ever wondered who's behind it?"

Vladimir, seemingly trying to ease our concerns, shrugged. "Suspicious? Not really. We've asked, but we haven't gotten any answers. It would be nice to thank whoever is allowing us the freedom to conduct these experiments."

Stefan quickly chimed in, "We've even had some of our younger, more tech-savvy members trace the source, but to no avail. The data keeps bouncing from country to country, from city to city. We believe this backer just doesn't want any recognition for what we discover."

"More praise for us in the long run," Vladimir added with a grin.

"How did they know you were interested in this type of research? How did you find them?" I asked, unable to contain my curiosity.

"They found us," Stefan volunteered, his eyes gleaming strangely. "They reached out to us through a written letter—if you can believe that—and told us to go to a PO Box in Bucharest where they had left a duffle bag filled with cash and instructions on what to research."

"You didn't find that strange?" Peter asked, clearly confused.

"Of course we did!" Vladimir waved off the concern with a dismissive hand. "But the request was well-paid, and we were bored, so we figured, if the backer was willing to keep paying us—as the letter stated—we had no reason to refuse."

I exchanged a brief glance with Peter, silently acknowledging the unease that crept up between us. This wasn't something initiated by the Romanians. Whatever purpose this entire facade served, the true architect of it all was still hidden, and tracking them down wasn't going to be easy. It was becoming clear that finding a paper trail here might be our best chance of uncovering the truth. It was something we needed to keep in mind while we were here.

"Well," Stefan exclaimed suddenly, clapping his hands together, "I'm tired of this discussion. There are more important matters that require my attention. I will take my leave. Vlad will show you to your quarters and let you know where you can begin assisting us."

Without another word, Stefan turned on his heel and disappeared down the corridor, leaving us alone with Vladimir. Peter and I exchanged a quick glance before shifting our attention to him.

"Always leaving me with the newbies, it seems," Vladimir muttered with a smirk before turning to Peter. "I believe you'll be best suited for our security division. I understand that you have a… how did you phrase it? A history with Maria?" His smile didn't reach his eyes. "I need someone I can trust to keep her placated and on task. Do you think you can handle that?"

For the briefest moment, I saw panic flicker across Peter's face, but he buried it quickly, straightening his posture. With that unshakable Southern confidence, he replied, "Consider it done."

Satisfied, Vladimir turned to me. "And you? Do you have a better grasp of science or technology?"

"I can do either," I answered truthfully, "but I'm better with tech."

"Then you'll be working with our computer programming team," he decided. "Your task will be to translate the results of the latest rounds of testing into terms the rest of us can understand. I expect daily updates."

"I can certainly do that," I replied with a smile, keeping my tone pleasant despite the unease curling in my gut.

"Follow me to your quarters," Vladimir led us through a maze of corridors, his movements swift and effortless as he guided us into a more dilapidated section of the fortress. It was obvious that whatever funding he and Stefan had received had been funneled entirely into their research—none of it had gone toward improving their living conditions.

He stopped at a four-way intersection, motioning toward the hallway on the left. "These are the spare rooms. Find one that's unoccupied and claim it if you wish." His tone was indifferent, as if it made no difference whether we stayed in a room or sat on the stone floor here in the hall. "I've been instructed that you're not to work around the clock, but aside from a thirty-minute feeding session once a week and a single hour-long break each day, I expect you at your assigned post."

He gestured straight ahead. "Maria and her newborns are down that corridor," then to the right, "and the computers are that way. Your new superiors are expecting you."

Without another word, he disappeared, leaving us standing alone in the center of the intersecting halls.

I turned to Peter, letting my carefully crafted mask slip for the first time since we'd arrived. Panic tightened my chest. "Bella and Jasper had this so incredibly wrong." My voice was barely above a whisper. "We all thought they were building an army here. But the Romanians—they don't want to overthrow the Kings. They have no ambitions of power." I swallowed hard. "Maria, though…" my voice trailed off with no idea how she fit into this.

Peter exhaled sharply, rubbing a hand over his face. "She's the real threat to the Volturi's power. I'd bet my life on it." His voice was grim. "She's the reason the Guard has been locked in battle for months. Without her, Stefan and Vladimir's experiments would still be monstrous, but at least we could have stopped this before it got out of hand."

Dread curled in my gut. "What do we do now?" My voice wavered. "This isn't at all what we expected."

Peter ran a hand through his hair, his usually steady composure cracking just enough for me to see how overwhelmed he really was. This was bigger than we had anticipated. A tangled web that stretched far beyond what the Guard had imagined.

Maria.

It always came back to her.

I swallowed hard, my mind racing. "If she's the one pulling the strings for a power play, then what the hell do Stefan and Vladimir think they're doing? Are they just blissfully unaware of her larger goals, or are they just so wrapped up in Vampire Evolution that they don't care as long as the experiments get completed? Do they even realize they're being used?"

Peter let out a humorless chuckle. "They don't care. As long as they get to play their little mad scientist games, they'll keep turning a blind eye. Maria's probably not even telling them what's really goin' on."

I exhaled sharply, forcing myself to think. "So, we keep up the act. We gather what we can. But if we're right—if Maria is just one piece of an even bigger problem—then we're gonna have to cut her off at the root."

Peter's expression darkened. "Not just her. We're gonna have to cut all of them off at the root." He hesitated for a moment before adding, "And honestly? I'm starting to think Maria might not even be the worst of the three."

I swallowed hard, his words settling like a weight in my chest. "So how do you want to play this?"

Peter let out a heavy sigh. "I'll handle Maria. You take care of Keith."

I studied his face carefully. "Are you sure? Can you handle at least incapacitating Maria if it comes to that?"

His jaw tightened, eyes steeling with resolve. "Yeah. And we better be damn careful about how we do it."

I cast one last glance down the empty hallways before straightening my shoulders. "Then let's get to work."