Katinki graciously edited this story.

Thank you for sharing your thoughts, theories, and even frustrations! I'm so sorry about Ben. With vampires around, things are bound to get bloody, one way or another...


Chapter 24

After the funeral, my sense of time gets all messed up. The days drag by so slowly that all I can think about is how much I want this winter to just be over.

Angela's parents took her and the boys to Bath for who knows how long so they could take better care of them. On one hand, I'm relieved that she's surrounded by love and being looked after. On the other, she left so abruptly that we barely had time to exchange hugs and a promise to write. Now, without the friend whose kindness I'd grown used to relying on, it just feels... off. I guess I'd prepared to grieve for Ben alongside Angela, to be useful to her in that way, and now, I don't even know what to do with myself.

Unlike me, Edward is very busy these days, preparing a new program for a series of recitals in France. He's set to leave in just ten days and will spend three weeks there without me.

If you guessed I'm not thrilled about it, well, you'd be absolutely right.

The fight we had after the funeral—our first major one since we became a couple—somehow changed things between us. I'm still madly in love with him, of course; I probably always will be. The thing is, now, there's this strange, unspoken sadness hanging over everything, and it's not going away. We no longer crack jokes, no longer laugh and tease each other, and more often than not, I want to cry when he leaves my room at night.

It's as if there's suddenly an expiration date on our happiness, and it's already spoiling it.

Which makes no sense because don't all "normal" relationships end eventually, one way or another? If he were a human man, wouldn't it be natural to simply savor the moment and be happy with what I have?

I don't have the energy or the skill for self-analysis, but I think what really gets to me, what steals the joy, is knowing that he won't even consider discussing the possibility of turning me.

Because he "doesn't want me to become a monster like him," which I admit is a perfectly valid point.

I keep telling myself that it's irrational to feel rejected over this. If the roles were reversed, would I seriously want to be responsible for a permanent change in my boyfriend, knowing that if our relationship doesn't work out, I'd be stuck with him for eternity? I'm scared of marriage, but this? It's a way bigger commitment, to put it mildly. The vampire world is so much smaller than the human one, and the odds of running into your ex over time are infinitely higher. That's hardly a fun prospect.

Still, it makes me feel sad.

Truth be told, sometimes I struggle to like myself when I think of us as a couple. I'm weak and a liability. I literally do nothing all day, and honestly, I'm still not quite sure what he sees in me. Other than that, he can't read my mind (which is a curiosity, sure enough, but doesn't make me a more compelling person), and my blood smells particularly good to him (a strange physiological quirk that makes me wonder if it's just some glitch that's drawing him to me, confusing his instincts).

Yep, and let's not forget the minor detail that I traveled from the future, although I have no clue why or how to get back.

Oh, how I long to be his equal—in the "same level of awesomeness" way. To be fearless and strong. To be worthy of being by his side.

I want so many things I can't have.

We don't talk about that, though. He doesn't, and I don't know how.

A week after the funeral, Edward arrives with a message from Aro. It's an invitation to a farewell reception at his residence.

My brows furrow. "I was hoping that they'd left already. For greener pastures, so to speak… or should I say redder? Anyway, good riddance. One question, though. Can I ignore it?" I sigh. I know the answer.

"I am afraid we all have to be present, you, me, Carlisle, and Rosalie. Rosalie and I shall give a small, private concert, merely a few songs that Rosalie has chosen. I am to accompany her on the pianoforte. With luck, we might be free to leave right after that," he says, his tone apologetic.

"Oh, I really hope so… which means it won't happen, knowing Aro," I grumble. "He won't leave me alone. I feel it in my heart, as Maggie says."

Edward just smiles weakly.

Two days later, I get confirmation that I was right.

XXX

Aro's home is easily the most stunning place I've been to in London so far. Finally, I see light colors used for the interior—mint green, white, and pale gray dominate the hallways, a refreshing change from the dark, heavy decor I've become used to. There's a fair amount of gold accents, too, but they don't scream, "Look! I have money!" Even though Aro certainly does, and plenty of it.

The entrance to the living room, which, given its size, could serve as a ballroom or concert hall, is flanked by two massive amphoras, adorned with black-figure paintings that instantly remind me of Etruscan vases. These are enormous and look far too well-preserved to be genuinely Etruscan, although something tells me they might just be the real deal. Inside the room, I immediately spot a concert-size pianoforte that stands in the middle, along with a few chairs positioned in front of it. Following the perimeter, several elegant loveseats and low tables are arranged in an irregular but clearly intentional pattern, giving the whole place a light and classy look. Trust the Italians to make everything they touch beautiful—they just seem to be born with a natural sense of style, I think begrudgingly. Now, imagine having millennia to perfect that sense? Simply not fair!

I briefly wonder if Aro is truly Italian. The name certainly isn't, but then again, millennia ago, neither was the place where he now permanently resides.

Aro stands by the door, greeting his guests like the gracious host he is and flashing me his infectious and only slightly carnivorous smile.

"My dearest, loveliest Bella, we meet again," he croons before turning to Rosalie and Edward. Unlike me, they're treated to royal kisses on the cheeks, no doubt to gather the latest information from them. I avert my eyes and walk into the room. That freaking leech, I say in my head loud and clear, feeling more than a little smug that he can't read my mind.

Inside the room, I spot the familiar red-eyed figures from the Opera—Jane, Alec, and Felix. They're just standing there, not moving, not talking, and not even blinking, like wax museum statues. Feigning indifference, I guess... Well, fine by me. It's not like I'm offended by their lack of attention or anything. When Edward and Rosalie join me a few seconds later, the creepy trio suddenly comes to life and moves closer to greet us. Thankfully, Eleazar is nowhere to be seen. I want to discretely ask Edward if he's going to show up later (something I should have checked before coming here), but then I remember that almost everyone here has super-hearing and change my mind.

Instead of Eleazar, I notice an unfamiliar vampire who watches me intently from the far corner of the room.

All of a sudden, Aro is behind my back, and although Edward gives my hand a warning squeeze, I still flinch, startled.

"Bella, cara mia, let me introduce Demetri," he says as he beckons the new vampire to come closer.

My knees suddenly feel weak.

Well, shit.

It dawns on me that this isn't just a test of this particular vamp's tracking abilities. It's a reminder and a warning, too. I recall that even if Demetri can't sense me and eventually locate me, he could still easily do that to Edward, which means we would never be able to hide together.

I swallow and look at Aro. He gazes back at me with an expression of ease and kindness on his handsome face.

Oh, yes. He knows that I know about the tracker.

With effort, I peel my eyes away from him and focus on Demetri. He's young, as far as I can tell, maybe just a couple of years older than Alec. Handsome, like all of them, of course. His eyes, though—they sit deep under his brows, and in contrast to the rest of his youthful face, they seem ancient, all-knowing. A chill runs down my spine.

What if he can find me?

Unlike Alec's, Demetri's face is an impenetrable mask. He simply bows, and as I offer a quick curtsy in return, he gives Aro a barely noticeable nod. Then he steps back. I glance at Edward. His jawline softens slightly, and a faint smirk curls at the corner of his lips. The knot in my stomach loosens, and warmth spreads through my body. It seems Demetri can't track me.

Take that, leech!

Aro's smile never falters as he claps his hands in that signature gesture of his and calls everyone to take their seats in front of the pianoforte. It suddenly occurs to me that Edward won't be sitting with me—because, surprise, his seat is at the instrument. And even Rosalie, who honestly wouldn't be the worst option for a seatmate right now, is performing, too. Before I can fully panic, Dr. Masen rushes into the room, offering quick apologies to Aro, and drops into the chair right next to me.

Phew. I mean, it's not like Aro's crew can't kill me from two chairs away. It's just that their proximity seriously gives me the chills. Would it be inappropriate to move my chair closer to Carlisle and hold onto his arm? Hmmm.

Rosalie steps to the front and begins speaking in beautiful Italian, none of which I understand, aside from "Schubert" and "Lieder," not exactly Italian words. She looks excited, and when I glance over, I see Aro and the crew, with the exception of Jane, smiling indulgently in return. Rosalie is like everyone's favorite child, I say to myself with a sigh. All the while, Edward waits patiently at the pianoforte, his gaze unfocused. Finally, he and Rosalie exchange a glance and the concert begins.

Edward mentioned that it was Rosalie who chose the songs for the evening, and for some reason I expect them to be on the lighter side and more entertaining. And indeed, they begin with a few simple songs from Die schöne Müllerin, where Rosalie's voice shines differently than in her usual operatic virtuoso roles. Her timbre is so velvety and so comforting that I forget my hostile environment and simply bask in it. Her ensemble with Edward is beyond flawless—they perform as if they're one person. It probably doesn't hurt that he can read her mind, anticipating her every thought and every breath.

After that, however, they switch to the darker side of Schubert's repertoire. The last two songs are Gretchen am Spinnrade and Erlkönig. Both are based on Goethe's texts, and while they're brilliant, they're also pretty depressing. I can't help but wonder why she chose them for this particular audience. Can Aro or Jane, let alone Alec, relate to the agony of a woman so devastated by a man's betrayal that she eventually kills her own child? Or to the emotions of a father desperately fighting for his baby boy's life, only to lose him to the creepy, immortal Elf King? That said, Rosalie's performance is phenomenal. She seems to adopt a different voice for every character in Erlkönig, turning it into a mini-opera compressed into five minutes. She pours her soul into the performance, and by the end, I find myself in tears—even though I certainly hadn't planned on showing any emotion in this room.

When they're finished, every member of the audience rises from their seats and begins clapping. Aro's eyes are shining. He seems truly moved, and even Felix's usually expressionless face looks less stony.

Interesting.

"Marvelous! Absolutely fantastic performance," Aro exclaims. "Rosalie, my child, you have outdone yourself. And Edward, your role was far more than mere accompaniment—it was a duet between equals. My sincerest congratulations! I am exceedingly pleased!" Then, without a pause, he turns to me and says, "Bella, if you would, please follow me to the library."

My heart sinks to my stomach.

So much for trying to hide behind Carlisle's broad back. Oh well, let's go and see what the Vampire King wants.

I inhale forcefully and begin moving in the general direction of Aro's pointed hand when Edward says, "It is of the utmost importance that I remain by Bella's side during your conversation. Please allow me."

Aro shrugs, and the three of us leave the room while the others silently watch.

The library turns out to be a dim space lined with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves and several heavy tables that look like they belong in a large European public library. Aro gestures for us to sit while he begins to close the heavy wooden door. At the last possible moment, as if he had been invited all along, Carlisle appears in the doorway. He flashes Aro his brilliant smile and seamlessly slips in.

Aro rolls his eyes.

"It seems, my dearest Bella, that your honor is safeguarded by not one, but two of the Masen brothers," he says sarcastically. "Although, it has never been at risk. All I ask is a conversation—one that would demand only a small portion of your time. Yet, much to my disappointment, I am told you have chosen not to share anything of interest with me. May I ask, why is that?" He cocks his head to one side and watches me.

I'm more or less prepared for this line of questioning, so I reply, "Because I am striving to preserve my future as best as I can, Sir. I presume you do not inquire out of mere boredom, though I suspect that plays a certain part. You ask with the intention of acting upon it. If there is even the slightest chance of my returning to my time, I wish to ensure that I do not jeopardize it." My voice is surprisingly steady.

These are bold words that make Carlisle shift uncomfortably, but why beat around the bush? Aro is not stupid. He's figured it out already and is just playing with me.

Aro's grin becomes wider. "Nonsense, madame, and our friend Edward has informed you of the same. Your mere presence here has already altered the future significantly, as your actions have been far from what Isabella Dwyer would have done. Why, then, this sudden hesitation?"

I think for a moment.

"I will give you an example," I say. "Scenario One. Suppose, that while I was on the road, circumstances forced me to drink water from a questionable source. I could have contracted cholera or a host of other diseases from it, but it was either drinking it or risk dying from dehydration. Still, despite that, in the future, I shall drink boiled water whenever possible, as I have no desire to harm myself." I pause for breath and notice Carlisle staring at me with deep fascination. "Now, compare it with Scenario Two. I drank bad water when I had no choice, so from now on, I shall only drink straight from the sewers."

Aro giggles and motions for me to continue.

"Um… I am not sure if this is a relevant metaphor—I mean, you do not drink water, only… the other stuff. But no, I would not choose option two. It mathematically diminishes my chances of returning to the future that I remember." I lift my chin and straighten my shoulders.

Eyes sparkling, Aro turns to Carlisle and says, "Are you taking notes, Dr. Masen? Miss Bella has just confirmed your theory that certain human ailments arise from impure water, rather than from the miasmic air, as it is currently believed." He then shifts his innocent gaze back to me.

I swear under my breath. So much for not diminishing my chances.

Honestly, I have no idea when people actually figured out that contaminated water causes disease. Isn't it, like, obvious? Then I think about London's sewer system—or lack thereof—and realize that apparently, it's not obvious at all. The Buchans have all their water delivered from some fancy private spring, but maybe that's just for status or because it tastes better…

Aro tilts his head to the other side. He reminds me of a very big owl. "But what if returning to the future is not within your reach? That you fail to discover the means of traveling home?" he asks.

I shrug. "Then, I believe, I am staying here."

At this, he bursts into laughter, the melodic sound echoing through every corner of the library.

Edward stiffens.

"It is with the deepest regret, my dearest Bella, that I must inform you that merely "staying here," even with any concessions you may offer, is simply not an option," he says. "Were I inclined to make an exception, I am, alas, not the sole ruler of our world. I have two brothers, neither of whom view matters as indulgently as I do. Nor do they particularly approve of my interest in human talents, though, in truth, such a fascination benefits us all in the end."

He walks to me and touches my chin with his icy finger, lifting my face toward him. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Edward step toward Aro, fists clenched at his sides.

"I shall be crystal clear, child. Since you have not been particularly forthcoming with information, my inclination is to have you turned immediately. And believe me, this is an act of generosity, for by the usual course, you would be put to death—along with your betrothed." He points at Edward. "I am doing this solely as a gesture of respect for my dear friends, Carlisle and Edward, and, if I am entirely honest, out of immense curiosity regarding your potential. But make no mistake, my decision may change at any moment."

Suddenly, there's steel in his voice. I will my face to remain calm and not show him that for the first time since meeting him, I'm seriously fucking scared.

Carlisle clears his throat. "Aro, I am afraid we are putting Bella in an impossible position. She cannot disclose her knowledge for reasons she stated earlier, nor does it seem that becoming one of us is a suitable option at present, as we have yet to properly explore the matter of time travel. We simply cannot miss this once-in-an-existence opportunity! Might I suggest granting us more time to unravel this mystery? Perhaps five years, during which we shall work alongside Bella, exploring all the possibilities."

Edward opens his mouth to say something, but Carlisle shoots him a sharp look, instantly shutting him up.

Aro looks amused.

"Five years? Surely, you understand that such a lengthy term does not quite work in our favor, considering the fragility of human life. You, of all people, as a medical doctor, should be keenly aware of this." He pauses as if considering something. "If we cannot uncover the workings of time travel within a year, then I daresay we never shall. A year, therefore, will suffice… It is decided then!"

Aro glances at Edward, one eyebrow raised. "Do not engage in anything foolish, Maestro Masen. Keep our dear Bella safe and assist her in exploring her ideas on time travel. A year from this very day, regardless of the outcome of your research, Bella must join our ranks.

"Ah, and one more thing…" He pauses again and turns to Carlisle. "Given the nature of their bond, I must insist that Edward be the one to turn her. No one else may take his place in this matter, not even you, my dear Carlisle. However, knowing Edward's determination to keep her soul intact, I believe this shall prove extremely interesting." He briefly closes his eyes and smiles dreamily. "If he continues to refuse, as he has done thus far, then unfortunately, we shall resort to..." he trails off, his face filled with sincere remorse. He looks like a server at an upscale restaurant delivering the unhappy news that the kitchen has run out of their signature dish.

Carlisle rushes to Edward and places a hand on his shoulder. I'm not sure what's going on, but apparently, there's some kind of one-sided conversation happening between them, during which Edward stands absolutely still, leaning on the corner of a bookshelf with his eyes closed, his mouth a hard line.

Finally, Edward opens his eyes. His Adam's apple moves as he swallows hard before slowly lifting his gaze to Aro. Not a single muscle twitches in his jaw when he whispers, "Yes, Master."

Then, he steps aside. I glance at the bookshelf and notice a large chunk of wood has been torn out of it. Aro notices it, too. He reaches for the damaged spot, gently scraping it with his perfectly manicured finger, and sighs.

"Thank you, Aro. This is most generous of you," Carlisle says, his face calm and friendly, as always. These two—Aro and Carlisle—have seriously good poker faces, and I really want to ask them to teach me someday. When Aro isn't discussing my murder, that is. Edward, on the other hand, is terrible at it. His eyes are now black and wild and so devoid of sense that my stomach again ties itself into knots. Wishing more than anything that I could comfort him, I watch Edward carefully.

What's next? Is this bizarre meeting over? Should I go?

He doesn't meet my gaze, though.

As if reading my mind, Aro says, "Bella, you may leave. It was a pleasure spending time in your company." He smiles at me with what looks like genuine fatherly affection. "On the note of time travel… May I suggest that you consider altering the manner in which you perceive your journey from the future to this time? Ask yourself, what truly served as the vessel? You appear to believe it was the opera house—a mere physical structure—or perhaps the performance itself, an event. But have you ever entertained the notion that it might have been something you did? That you, in fact, were part of that very vessel? Reflect upon it." With that, he nods, signaling the end of the conversation. "Gentlemen."

Carlisle bows and leaves the room. I begin to follow him when I hear Edward quietly say, "Aro, may I have a word?"

I quickly turn back, only to find the library empty and both Edward and Aro gone.

.

.

.

Notes:

Lieder is the German word for "songs," but in music, it specifically refers to German art songs, usually written for solo voice with piano accompaniment. These songs became especially popular in the 19th century, with composers like Franz Schubert, Robert Schumann, and Johannes Brahms among the most famous creators.

Die schöne Müllerin (The Fair Miller-Maid) is a song cycle by Franz Schubert, one of the earliest examples of the German Lieder cycle. Composed in 1823, it sets to music twenty poems by Wilhelm Müller, following the emotional journey of a young man who falls in love with a beautiful miller's daughter.

"Gretchen am Spinnrade" (Gretchen at the Spinning Wheel) is a song by Franz Schubert, composed in 1814 when he was just seventeen. It's based on a scene from Johann Wolfgang von Goethe's play Faust. The song is remarkable for how the piano mimics the spinning wheel's motion, with a continuous, whirring accompaniment that reflects Gretchen's repetitive, obsessive thoughts about Faust (who will eventually seduce her and leave her pregnant).

Erlkönig (The Elf King) is another famous Schubert's Lied, based on a poem by Goethe. The song tells a haunting story about a father and his young son riding through the night as the son claims to see and hear the Elf King, a supernatural being who tries to lure him away. No HEA in this one either.

Waterborne diseases: The theory that contaminated water causes disease emerged in the mid-19th century, two decades after the events of this story. Dr. John Snow's 1854 study linked a cholera outbreak in London to a contaminated water pump, challenging the then-popular miasma theory. Snow's work laid the foundation for understanding waterborne diseases, later reinforced by Louis Pasteur's germ theory and Robert Koch's discovery of pathogens.