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Edward didn't move an inch. He was dooming himself by protecting me.

 

Abruptly, Edward's head whipped around, toward the darkness of the winding alley, and Demetri and Felix did the same, in response to some sound or movement too subtle for my senses.

 

"Let's behave ourselves, shall we?" a lilting voice suggested. "There are ladies present."

 

Alice tripped lightly to Edward's side, her stance casual. There was no hint of any underlying tension. She looked so tiny, so fragile. Her little arms swung like a child's.

 

Yet Demetri and Felix both straightened up, their cloaks swirling slightly as a gust of wind funneled through the alley. Felix's face soured. Apparently, they didn't like even numbers.

 

"We're not alone," she reminded them.

 

Demetri glanced over his shoulder. A few yards into the square, the little family, with the girls in their red dresses, was watching us. The mother was speaking urgently to her husband, her eyes on the five of us. She looked away when Demetri met her gaze. The man walked a few steps farther into the plaza, and tapped one of the red-blazered men on the shoulder.

 

Demetri shook his head. "Please, Edward, let's be reasonable," he said.

 

"Let's," Edward agreed. "And we'll leave quietly now, with no one the wiser."

 

Demetri sighed in frustration. "At least let us discuss this more privately."

 

Six men in red now joined the family as they watched us with anxious expressions. I was very conscious of Edward's protective stance in front of me—sure that this was what caused their alarm. I wanted to scream to them to run.

 

Edward's teeth came together audibly. "No."

 

Felix smiled.

 

"Enough."

 

The voice was high, reedy, and n came from behind us.

 

I peeked under Edward's other arm to see a small, dark shape coming toward us. By the way the edges billowed, I knew it would be another one of them. Who else?

 

At first I thought it was a young boy. The newcomer was as tiny as Alice, with lank, pale brown hair trimmed short. The body under the cloak—which was darker, almost black—was slim and androgynous. But the face was too pretty for a boy. The wide-eyed, full-lipped face would make a Botticelli angel look like a gargoyle. Even allowing for the dull crimson irises.

 

Her size was so insignificant that the reaction to her appearance confused me. Felix and Demetri relaxed immediately, stepping back from their offensive positions to blend again with the shadows of the overhanging walls.

 

Edward dropped his arms and relaxed his position as well—but in defeat.

 

"Jane," he sighed in recognition and resignation.

 

Alice folded her arms across her chest, her expression impassive.

 

"Follow me," Jane spoke again, her childish voice a monotone. She turned her back on us and drifted silently into the dark.

 

Felix gestured for us to go first, smirking.

 

Alice walked after the little Jane at once. Edward wrapped his arm around my waist and pulled me along beside her. The alley angled slightly downward as it narrowed. I looked up at him with frantic questions in my eyes, but he just shook his head. Though I couldn't hear the others behind us, I was sure they were there.

 

"Well, Alice," Edward said conversationally as we walked. "I suppose I shouldn't be surprised to see you here."

 

"It was my mistake," Alice answered in the same tone. "It was my job to set it right."

 

"What happened?" His voice was polite, as if he were barely interested. I imagined this was due to the listening ears behind us.

 

"It's a long story." Alice's eyes flickered toward me and away. "In summary, she did jump off a cliff, but she wasn't trying to kill herself. Bella's all about the extreme sports these days."

 

I flushed and turned my eyes straight ahead, looking after the dark shadow that I could no longer see. I could imagine what he was hearing in Alice's thoughts now. Near-drownings, stalking vampires, werewolf friends…

 

"Hm," Edward said curtly, and the casual tone of his voice was gone.

 

There was a loose curve to the alley, still slanting downward, so I didn't see the squared-off dead end coming until we reached the flat, windowless, brick face. The little one called Jane was nowhere to be seen.

 

Alice didn't hesitate, didn't break pace as she strode toward the wall. Then, with easy grace, she slid down an open hole in the street.

 

It looked like a drain, sunk into the lowest point of the paving. I hadn't noticed it until Alice disappeared, but the grate was halfway pushed aside. The hole was small, and black.

 

I balked.

 

"It's all right, Bella," Edward said in a low voice. "Alice will catch you."

 

I eyed the hole doubtfully. I imagine he would have gone first, if Demetri and Felix hadn't been waiting, smug and silent, behind us.

 

I crouched down, swinging my legs into the narrow gap.

 

"Alice?" I whispered, voice trembling.

 

"I'm right here, Bella," she reassured me. Her voice came from too far below to make me feel better.

 

Edward took my wrists—his hands felt like stones in winter—and lowered me into the blackness.

 

"Ready?" he asked.

 

"Drop her," Alice called.

 

I closed my eyes so I couldn't see the darkness, scrunching them together in terror, clamping my mouth shut so I wouldn't scream. Edward let me fall.

 

It was silent and short. The air whipped past me for just half a second, and then, with a huff as I exhaled, Alice's waiting arms caught me.

 

I was going to have bruises; her arms were very hard. She stood me upright.

 

It was dim, but not black at the bottom. The light from the hole above provided a faint glow, reflecting wetly from the stones under my feet. The light vanished for a second, and then Edward was a faint, white radiance beside me. He put his arm around me, holding me close to his side, and began to tow me swiftly forward. I wrapped both arms around his cold waist, and tripped and stumbled my way across the uneven stone surface. The sound of the heavy grate sliding over the drain hole behind us rang with metallic finality.

 

The dim light from the street was quickly lost in the gloom. The sound of my staggering footsteps echoed through the black space; it sounded very wide, but I couldn't be sure. There were no sounds other than my frantic heartbeat and my feet on the wet stones—except for once, when an impatient sigh whispered from behind me.

 

Edward held me tightly. He reached his free hand across his body to hold my face, too, his smooth thumb tracing across my lips. Now and then, I felt his face press into my hair. I realized that this was the only reunion we would get, and I clutched myself closer to him.

 

For now, it felt like he wanted me, and that was enough to offset the horror of the subterranean tunnel and the prowling vampires behind us. It was probably no more than guilt—the same guilt that compelled him to come here to die when he'd believed that it was his fault that I'd killed myself. But I felt his lips press silently against my forehead, and I didn't care what the motivation was. At least I could be with him again before I died. That was better than a long life.

 

I wished I could ask him exactly what was going to happen now. I wanted desperately to know how we were going to die—as if that would somehow make it better, knowing in advance. But I couldn't speak, even in a whisper, surrounded as we were. The others could hear everything—my every breath, my every heartbeat.

 

The path beneath our feet continued to slant downward, taking us deeper into the ground, and it made me claustrophobic. Only Edward's hand, soothing against my face, kept me from screaming out loud.

 

I couldn't tell where the light was coming from, but it slowly turned dark gray instead of black. We were in a low, arched tunnel. Long trails of ebony moisture seeped down the gray stones, like they were bleeding ink.

 

I was shaking, and I thought it was from fear. It wasn't until my teeth started to chatter together that I realized I was cold. My clothes were still wet, and the temperature underneath the city was wintry. As was Edward's skin.

 

He realized this at the same time I did, and let go of me, keeping only my hand.

 

"N-n-no," I chattered, throwing my arms around him. I didn't care if I froze. Who knew how long we had left?

 

His cold hand chafed against my arm, trying to warm me with the friction.

 

We hurried through the tunnel, or it felt like hurrying to me. My slow progress irritated someone—I guessed Felix—and I heard him heave a sigh now and then.

 

At the end of the tunnel was a grate—the iron bars were rusting, but thick as my arm. A small door made of thinner, interlaced bars was standing open. Edward ducked through and hurried on to a larger, brighter stone room. The grille slammed shut with a clang, followed by the snap of a lock. I was too afraid to look behind me.

 

On the other side of the long room was a low, heavy wooden door. It was very thick—as I could tell because it, too, stood open.

 

We stepped through the door, and I glanced around me in surprise, relaxing automatically. Beside me, Edward tensed, his jaw clenched tight.

21 VERDICT

 

 

WE WERE IN A BRIGHTLY LIT, UNREMARKABLE HALLWAY. The walls were off-white, the floor carpeted in industrial gray. Common rectangular fluorescent lights were spaced evenly along the ceiling. It was warmer here, for which I was grateful. This hall seemed very benign after the gloom of the ghoulish stone sewers.

 

Edward didn't seem to agree with my assessment. He glowered darkly down the long hallway, toward the slight, black shrouded figure at the end, standing by an elevator.

 

He pulled me along, and Alice walked on my other side. The heavy door creaked shut behind us, and then there was the thud of a bolt sliding home.

 

Jane waited by the elevator, one hand holding the doors open for us. Her expression was apathetic.

 

Once inside the elevator, the three vampires that belonged to the Volturi relaxed further. They threw back their cloaks, letting the hoods fall back on their shoulders. Felix and Demetri were both of a slightly olive complexion—it looked odd combined with their chalky pallor. Felix's black hair was cropped short, but Demetri's waved to his shoulders. Their irises were deep crimson around the edges, darkening until they were black around the pupil. Under the shrouds, their clothes were modern, pale, and nondescript. I cowered in the corner, cringing against Edward. His hand still rubbed against my arm. He never took his eyes off Jane.

 

The elevator ride was short; we stepped out into what looked like a posh office reception area. The walls were paneled in wood, the floors carpeted in thick, deep green. There were no windows, but large, brightly lit paintings of the Tuscan countryside hung everywhere as replacements. Pale leather couches were arranged in cozy groupings, and the glossy tables held crystal vases full of vibrantly colored bouquets. The flowers' smell reminded me of a funeral home.

 

In the middle of the room was a high, polished mahogany counter. I gawked in astonishment at the woman behind it.

 

She was tall, with dark skin and green eyes. She would have been very pretty in any other company—but not here. Because she was every bit as human as I was. I couldn't comprehend what this human woman was doing here, totally at ease, surrounded by vampnes.

 

She smiled politely in welcome. "Good afternoon, Jane," she said. There was no surprise in her face as she glanced at Jane's company. Not Edward, his bare chest glinting dimly in the white lights, or even me, disheveled and comparatively hideous.

 

Jane nodded. "Gianna." She continued toward a set of double doors in the back of the room, and we followed.

 

As Felix passed the desk, he winked at Gianna, and she giggled.

 

On the other side of the wooden doors was a different kind of reception. The pale boy in the pearl gray suit could have been Jane's twin. His hair was darker, and his lips were not as full, but he was just as lovely. He came forward to meet us. He smiled, reaching for her. "Jane."

 

"Alec," she responded, embracing the boy. They kissed each other's cheeks on both sides. Then he looked at us.

 

"They send you out for one and you come back with two… and a half," he noted, looking at me. "Nice work."

 

She laughed—the sound sparkled with delight like a baby's cooing.

 

"Welcome back, Edward," Alec greeted him. "You seem in a better mood."

 

"Marginally," Edward agreed in a flat voice. I glanced at Edward's hard face, and wondered how his mood could have been darker before.

 

Alec chuckled, and examined me as I clung to Edward's side. "And this is the cause of all the trouble?" he asked, skeptical.

 

Edward only smiled, his expression contemptuous. Then he froze.

 

"Dibs," Felix called casually from behind.

 

Edward turned, a low snarl building deep in his chest. Felix smiled—his hand was raised, palm up; he curled his fingers twice, inviting Edward forward.

 

Alice touched Edward's arm. "Patience," she cautioned him.

 

They exchanged a long glance, and I wished I could hear what she was telling him. I figured that it was something to do with not attacking Felix, because Edward took a deep breath and turned back to Alec.

 

"Aro will be so pleased to see you again," Alec said, as if nothing had passed.

 

"Let's not keep him waiting," Jane suggested.

 

Edward nodded once.

 

Alec and Jane, holding hands, led the way down yet another wide, ornate hall—would there ever be an end?

 

They ignored the doors at the end of the hall—doors entirely sheathed in gold—stopping halfway down the hall and sliding aside a piece of the paneling to expose a plain wooden door. It wasn't locked. Alec held it open for Jane.

 

I wanted to groan when Edward pulled me through to the other side of the door. It was the same ancient stone as the square, the alley, and the sewers. And it was dark and cold again.

 

The stone antechamber was not large. It opened quickly into a brighter, cavernous room, perfectly round like a huge castle turret… which was probably exactly what it was.

 

Two stories up, long window slits threw thin rectangles of bright sunlight onto the stone floor below. There were no artificial lights. The only furniture in the room were several massive wooden chairs, like thrones, that were spaced unevenly, flush with the curving stone walls. In the very center of the circle, in a slight depression, was another drain. I wondered if they used it as an exit, like the hole in the street.

 

The room was not empty. A handful of people were convened in seemingly relaxed conversation. The murmur of low, smooth voices was a gentle hum in the air. As I watched, a pair of pale women in summer dresses paused in a patch of light, and, like prisms, their skin threw the light in rainbow sparkles against the sienna walls.

 

The exquisite faces all turned toward our party as we entered the room. Most of the immortals were dressed in inconspicuous pants and shirts—things that wouldn't stick out at all on the streets below. But the man who spoke first wore one of the long robes. It was pitch-black, and brushed against the floor. For a moment, I thought his long, jet-black hair was the hood of his cloak.

 

"Jane, dear one, you've returned!" he cried in evident delight. His voice was just a soft sighing.

 

He drifted forward, and the movement flowed with such surreal grace that I gawked, my mouth hangmg open. Even Alice, whose every motion looked like dancing, could not compare.

 

I was only more astonished as he floated closer and I could see his face. It was not like the unnaturally attractive faces that surrounded him (for he did not approach us alone; the entire group converged around him, some following, and some walking ahead of him with the alert manner of bodyguards). I couldn't decide if his face was beautiful or not. I suppose the features were perfect. But he was as different from the vampires beside him as they were from me. His skin was translucently white, like onionskin, and it looked just as delicate—it stood in shocking contrast to the long black hair that framed his face. I felt a strange, horrifying urge to touch his cheek, to see if it was softer than Edward's or Alice's, or if it was powdery, like chalk. His eyes were red, the same as the others around him, but the color was clouded, milky; I wondered if his vision was affected by the haze.

 

He glided to Jane, took her face in his papery hands, kissed her lightly on her full lips, and then floated back a step.

 

"Yes, Master." Jane smiled; the expression made her look like an angelic child. "I brought him back alive, just as you wished."

 

"Ah, Jane." He smiled, too. "You are such a comfort to me."

 

He turned his misty eyes toward us, and the smile brightened—became ecstatic.

 

"And Alice and Bella, too!" he rejoiced, clapping his thin hands together. "This is a happy surprise! Wonderful!"

 

I stared in shock as he called our names informally, as if we were old friends dropping in for an unexpected visit.

 

He turned to our hulking escort. "Felix, be a dear and tell my brothers about our company. I'm sure they wouldn't want to miss this."

 

"Yes, Master." Felix nodded and disappeared back the way we had come.

 

"You see, Edward?" The strange vampire turned and smiled at Edward like a fond but scolding grandfather. "What did I tell you? Aren't you glad that I didn't give you what you wanted yesterday?"

 

"Yes, Aro, I am," he agreed, tightening his arm around my waist.

 

"I love a happy ending." Aro sighed. "They are so rare. But I want the whole story. How did this happen? Alice?" He turned to gaze at Alice with curious, misty eyes. "Your brother seemed to think you infallible, but apparently there was some mistake."

 

"Oh, I'm far from infallible." She flashed a dazzling smile. She looked perfectly at ease, except that her hands were balled into tight little fists. "As you can see today, I cause problems as often as I cure them."

 

"You're too modest," Aro chided. "I've seen some of your more amazing exploits, and I must admit I've never observed anything like your talent. Wonderful!"

 

Alice flickered a glance at Edward. Aro did not miss it.

 

"I'm sorry, we haven't been introduced properly at all, have we? It's just that I feel like I know you already, and I tend get ahead of myself. Your brother introduced us yesterday, in a peculiar way. You see, I share some of your brother's talent, only I am limited in a way that he is not." Aro shook his head; his tone was envious.

 

"And also exponentially more powerful," Edward added dryly. He looked at Alice as he swiftly explained. "Aro needs physical contact to hear your thoughts, but he hears much more than I do. You know I can only hear what's passing through your head in the moment. Aro hears every thought your mind has ever had."

 

Alice raised her delicate eyebrows, and Edward inclined his head.

 

Aro didn't miss that either.

 

"But to be able to hear from a distance…" Aro sighed, gesturing toward the two of them, and the exchange that had just taken place. "That would be so convenient."

 

Aro looked over our shoulders. All the other heads turned in the same direction, including Jane, Alec, and Demetri, who stood silently beside us.

 

I was the slowest to turn. Felix was back, and behind him floated two more black-robed men. Both looked very much like Aro, one even had the same flowing black hair. The other had a shock of snow-white hair—the same shade as his face—that brushed against his shoulders. Their faces had identical, paper-thin skin.

 

The trio from Carlisle's painting was complete, unchanged by the last three hundred years since it was painted.

 

"Marcus, Caius, look!" Aro crooned. "Bella is alive after all, and Alice is here with her! Isn't that wonderful?"

 

Neither of the other two looked as if wonderful would be their first choice of words. The dark-haired man seemed utterly bored, like he'd seen too many millennia of Aro's enthusiasm. The other's hice was sour under the snowy hair.

 

Their lack of interest did not curb Aro's enjoyment.

 

"Let us have the story," Aro almost sang in his feathery voice.

 

The white-haired ancient vampire drifted away, gliding toward one of the wooden thrones. The other paused beside Aro, and he reached his hand out, at first I thought to take Aro's hand. But he just touched Aro's palm briefly and then dropped his hand to his side. Aro raised one black brow. I wondered how his papery skin did not crumple in the effort.

 

Edward snorted very quietly, and Alice looked at him, curious.

 

"Thank you, Marcus," Aro said. "That's quite interesting."

 

I realized, a second late, that Marcus was letting Aro know his thoughts.

 

Marcus didn't look interested. He glided away from Aro to join the one who must be Caius, seated against the wall. Two of the attending vampires followed silently behind him—bodyguards, like I'd thought before. I could see that the two women in the sundresses had gone to stand beside Caius in the same manner. The idea of any vampire needing a guard was faintly ridiculous to me, but maybe the ancient ones were as frail as their skin suggested.

 

Aro was shaking his head. "Amazing,"' he said. "Absolutely amazing."

 

Alice's expression was frustrated. Edward turned to her and explained again in a swift, low voice. "Marcus sees relationships. He's surprised by the intensity of ours."

 

Aro smiled. "So convenient," he repeated to himself. Then he spoke to us. "It takes quite a bit to surprise Marcus, I can assure you."

 

I looked at Marcus's dead face, and I believed that.

 

"It's just so difficult to understand, even now," Aro mused, staring at Edward's arm wrapped around me. It was hard for me to follow Aro's chaotic train of thought. I struggled to keep up. "How can you stand so close to het like that?"

 

"It's not without effort," Edward answered calmly.

 

"But still—la tua cantante! What a waste!"

 

Edward chuckled once without humor. "I look at it more as a price."

 

Aro was skeptical. "A very high price."

 

"Opportunity cost."

 

Aro laughed. "If I hadn't smelled her through your memories, I wouldn't have believed the call of anyone's blood could be so strong. I've never felt anything like it myself. Most of us would trade much for such a gift, and yet you…"

 

"Waste it," Edward finished, his voice sarcastic now.

 

Aro laughed again. "Ah, how I miss my friend Carlisle! You remind me of him—only he was not so angry."

 

"Carlisle outshines me in many other ways as well."

 

"I certainly never thought to see Carlisle bested for self-control of all things, but you put him to shame."

 

"Hardly." Edward sounded impatient. As if he were tired of the preliminaries. It made me more afraid; I couldn't help but try to imagine what he expected would follow.

 

"I am gratified by his success," Aro mused. "Your memories of him are quite a gift for me, though they astonish me exceedingly. I am surprised by how it… pleases me, his success in this unorthodox path he's chosen. I expected that he would waste, weaken with time. I'd scoffed at his plan to find others who would share his peculiar vision. Yet, somehow, I'm happy to be wrong."

 

Edward didn't reply.

 

"But your restraint!" Aro sighed. "I did not know such strength was possible. To inure yourself against such a siren call, not just once but again and again—if I had not felt it myself, I would not have believed."

 

Edward gazed back at Aro's admiration with no expression. I knew his face well enough—time had not changed that—to guess at something seething beneath the surface. I fought to keep my breathing even.

 

"Just remembering how she appeals to you…" Aro chuckled. "It makes me thirsty."

 

Edward tensed.

 

"Don't be disturbed," Aro reassured him. "I mean her no harm. But I am so curious, about one thing in particular." He eyed me with bright interest. "May I?" he asked eagerly, lifting one hand.

 

"Ask her," Edward suggested in a flat voice.

 

"Of course, how rude of me!" Aro exclaimed. "Bella," he addressed me directly now. "I'm fascinated that you are the one exception to Edward's impressive talent—so very interesting that such a thing should occur! And I was wondering, since our talents are similar in many ways, if you would be so kind as to allow me to try—to see if you are an exception for me, as well?"

 

My eyes flashed up to Edward's face in terror. Despite Aro's overt politeness, I didn't believe I really had a choice. I was horrified at the thought of allowing him to touch me, and yet also perversely intrigued by the chance to feel his strange skin.

 

Edward nodded in encouragement—whether because he was sure Aro would not hurt me, or because there was no choice, I couldn't tell.

 

I turned back to Aro and raised my hand slowly in front of me. It was trembling.

 

He glided closer, and I believe he meant his expression to be reassuring. But his papery features were too strange, too alien and frightening, to reassure. The look on his face was more confident than his words had been.

 

Aro reached out, as if to shake my hand, and pressed his insubstantial-looking skin against mine. It was hard, but felt brittle—shale rather than granite—and even colder than I expected.

 

His filmy eyes smiled down at mine, and it was impossible to look away. They were mesmerizing in an odd, unpleasant way.

 

Aro's face altered as I watched. The confidence wavered and became first doubt, then incredulity before he calmed it into a friendly mask.

 

"So very interesting," he said as he released my hand and drifted back.

 

My eyes flickered to Edward, and, though his face was composed, I thought he seemed a little smug.