Only Kate and Garrett were in the front room, arguing playfully about the nutritional value of animal blood. I inferred that Garrett had attempted a hunting trip vegetarian-style and found it difficult.
Edward must have taken Renesmee home to sleep. Jacob, no doubt, was in the woods close by the cottage. The rest of my family must have been hunting as well. Perhaps they were out with the other Denalis.
Which basically gave me the house to myself, and I was quick to take advantage.
I could smell that I was the first one to enter Alice and Jasper’s room in a long while, maybe the first since the night they’d left us. I rooted silently through their huge closet until I found the right sort of bag. It must have been Alice’s; it was a small black leather backpack, the kind that was usually used as a purse, little enough that even Renesmee could carry it without looking out of place. Then I raided their petty cash, taking about twice the yearly income for the average American household. I guessed my theft would be less noticeable here than anywhere else in the house, since this room made everyone sad. The envelope with the fake passports and IDs went into the bag on top of the money. Then I sat on the edge of Alice and Jasper’s bed and looked at the pitifully insignificant package that was all I could give my daughter and my best friend to help save their lives. I slumped against the bedpost, feeling helpless.
But what else could I do?
I sat there for several minutes with my head bowed before the inkling of a good idea came to me.
If…
If I was to assume that Jacob and Renesmee were going to escape, then that included the assumption that Demetri would be dead. That gave any survivors a little breathing room, Alice and Jasper included.
So why couldn’t Alice and Jasper help Jacob and Renesmee? If they were reunited, Renesmee would have the best protection imaginable. There was no reason why this couldn’t happen, except for the fact that Jake and Renesmee both were blind spots for Alice. How would she begin to look for them?
I deliberated for a moment, then left the room, crossing the hall to Carlisle and Esme’s suite. As usual, Esme’s desk was stacked with plans and blueprints, everything neatly laid out in tall piles. The desk had a slew of pigeonholes above the work surface; in one was a box of stationery. I took a fresh sheet of paper and a pen.
Then I stared at the blank ivory page for a full five minutes, concentrating on my decision. Alice might not be able to see Jacob or Renesmee, but she could see me. I visualized her seeing this moment, hoping desperately that she wasn’t too busy to pay attention.
Slowly, deliberately, I wrote the words
RIO DE JANEIROin all caps across the page.
Rio seemed the best place to send them: It was far away from here, Alice and Jasper were already in South America at last report, and it wasn’t like our old problems had ceased to exist just because we had worse problems now. There was still the mystery of Renesmee’s future, the terror of her racing age. We’d been headed south anyway. Now it would be Jacob’s, and hopefully Alice’s, job to search for the legends.
I bowed my head again against a sudden urge to sob, clenching my teeth together. It was better that Renesmee go on without me. But I already missed her so much I could barely stand it.
I took a deep breath and put the note at the bottom of the duffel bag, where Jacob would find it soon enough.
I crossed my fingers that—since it was unlikely that his high school offered Portuguese—Jake had at least taken Spanish as his language elective.
There was nothing left now but waiting.
For two days, Edward and Carlisle stayed in the clearing where Alice had seen the Volturi arrive. It was the same killing field where Victoria’s newborns had attacked last summer. I wondered if it felt repetitive to Carlisle, like déjà vu. For me, it would be all new. This time Edward and I would stand with our family.
We could only imagine that the Volturi would be tracking either Edward or Carlisle. I wondered if it would surprise them that their prey didn’t run. Would that make them wary? I couldn’t imagine the Volturi ever feeling a need for caution.
Though I was—hopefully—invisible to Demetri, I stayed with Edward. Of course. We only had a few hours left to be together.
Edward and I had not had a last grand scene of farewell, nor did I plan one. To speak the word was to make it final. It would be the same as typing the words
The Endon the last page of a manuscript. So we did not say our goodbyes, and we stayed very close to each other, always touching. Whatever end found us, it would not find us separated.
We set up a tent for Renesmee a few yards back into the protective forest, and then there was more déjà vu as we found ourselves camping in the cold again with Jacob. It was almost impossible to believe how much things had changed since last June. Seven months ago, our triangular relationship seemed impossible, three different kinds of heartbreak that could not be avoided. Now everything was in perfect balance. It seemed hideously ironic that the puzzle pieces would fit together just in time for all of them to be destroyed.
It started to snow again the night before New Year’s Eve. This time, the tiny flakes did not dissolve into the stony ground of the clearing. While Renesmee and Jacob slept—Jacob snoring so loudly I wondered how Renesmee didn’t wake—the snow made first a thin icing over the earth, then built into thicker drifts. By the time the sun rose, the scene from Alice’s vision was complete. Edward and I held hands as we stared across the glittering white field, and neither of us spoke.
Through the early morning, the others gathered, their eyes bearing mute evidence of their preparations—some light gold, some rich crimson. Soon after we all were together, we could hear the wolves moving in the woods. Jacob emerged from the tent, leaving Renesmee still sleeping, to join them.
Edward and Carlisle were arraying the others into a loose formation, our witnesses to the sides like galleries.
I watched from a distance, waiting by the tent for Renesmee to wake. When she did, I helped her dress in the clothes I’d carefully picked out two days before. Clothes that looked frilly and feminine but that were actually sturdy enough to not show any wear—even if a person wore them while riding a giant werewolf through a couple of states. Over her jacket I put on the black leather backpack with the documents, the money, the clue, and my love notes for her and Jacob, Charlie and Renée. She was strong enough that it was no burden to her.
Her eyes were huge as she read the agony on my face. But she had guessed enough not to ask me what I was doing.
“I love you,” I told her. “More than anything.”
“I love you, too, Momma,” she answered. She touched the locket at her neck, which now held a tiny photo of her, Edward, and me. “We’ll always be together.”
“In our hearts we’ll always be together,” I corrected in a whisper as quiet as a breath. “But when the time comes today, you have to leave me.”
Her eyes widened, and she touched her hand to my cheek. The silent
nowas louder than if she’d shouted it.
I fought to swallow; my throat felt swollen. “Will you do it for me? Please?”
She pressed her fingers harder to my face.
Why? “I can’t tell you,” I whispered. “But you’ll understand soon. I promise.”
In my head, I saw Jacob’s face.
I nodded, then pulled her fingers away. “Don’t think of it,” I breathed into her ear. “Don’t tell Jacob until I tell you to run, okay?”
This she understood. She nodded, too.
I took from my pocket one last detail.
While packing Renesmee’s things, an unexpected sparkle of color had caught my eye. A chance ray of sun through the skylight had hit the jewels on the ancient precious box stuffed high overhead on a shelf in an untouched corner. I considered it for a moment and then shrugged. After putting together Alice’s clues, I couldn’t hope that the coming confrontation would be resolved peacefully. But why not try to start things out as friendly as possible? I asked myself. What could it hurt? So I guess I must have had some hope left after all—blind, senseless hope—because I’d scaled the shelves and retrieved Aro’s wedding present to me.
Now I fastened the thick gold rope around my neck and felt the weight of the enormous diamond nestle into the hollow of my throat.
“Pretty,” Renesmee whispered. Then she wrapped her arms like a vise around my neck. I squeezed her against my chest. Interlocked this way, I carried her out of the tent and to the clearing.
Edward cocked one eyebrow as I approached, but otherwise did not remark on my accessory or Renesmee’s. He just put his arms tight around us both for one long moment and then, with a deep sigh, let us go. I couldn’t see a goodbye anywhere in his eyes. Maybe he had more hope for something after this life than he’d let on.
We took our place, Renesmee climbing agilely onto my back to leave my hands free. I stood a few feet behind the front line made up by Carlisle, Edward, Emmett, Rosalie, Tanya, Kate, and Eleazar. Close beside me were Benjamin and Zafrina; it was my job to protect them as long as I was able. They were our best offensive weapons. If the Volturi were the ones who could not see, even for a few moments, that would change everything.
Zafrina was rigid and fierce, with Senna almost a mirror image at her side. Benjamin sat on the ground, his palms pressed to the dirt, and muttered quietly about fault lines. Last night, he’d strewn piles of boulders in natural-looking, now snow-covered heaps all along the back of the meadow. They weren’t enough to injure a vampire, but hopefully enough to distract one.
The witnesses clustered to our left and right, some nearer than others—those who had declared themselves were the closest. I noticed Siobhan rubbing her temples, her eyes closed in concentration; was she humoring Carlisle? Trying to visualize a diplomatic resolution?
In the woods behind us, the invisible wolves were still and ready; we could only hear their heavy panting, their beating hearts.
The clouds rolled in, diffusing the light so that it could have been morning or afternoon. Edward’s eyes tightened as he scrutinized the view, and I was sure he was seeing this exact scene for the second time—the first time being Alice’s vision. It would look just the same when the Volturi arrived. We only had minutes or seconds left now.
All our family and allies braced themselves.
From the forest, the huge russet Alpha wolf came forward to stand at my side; it must have been too hard for him to keep his distance from Renesmee when she was in such immediate danger.
Renesmee reached out to twine her fingers in the fur over his massive shoulder, and her body relaxed a little bit. She was calmer with Jacob close. I felt a tiny bit better, too. As long Jacob was with Renesmee, she would be all right.
Without risking a glance behind, Edward reached back to me. I stretched my arm forward so that I could grip his hand. He squeezed my fingers.
Another minute ticked by, and I found myself straining to hear some sound of approach.
And then Edward stiffened and hissed low between his clenched teeth. His eyes focused on the forest due north of where we stood.
We stared where he did, and waited as the last seconds passed.
36 BLOODLUST
They came with pageantry, with a kind of beauty.
They came in a rigid, formal formation. They moved together, but it was not a march; they flowed in perfect synchronicity from the trees—a dark, unbroken shape that seemed to hover a few inches above the white snow, so smooth was the advance.
The outer perimeter was gray; the color darkened with each line of bodies until the heart of the formation was deepest black. Every face was cowled, shadowed. The faint brushing sound of their feet was so regular it was like music, a complicated beat that never faltered.
At some sign I did not see—or perhaps there was no sign, only millennia of practice—the configuration folded outward. The motion was too stiff, too square to resemble the opening of a flower, though the color suggested that; it was the opening of a fan, graceful but very angular. The gray-cloaked figures spread to the flanks while the darker forms surged precisely forward in the center, each movement closely controlled.
Their progress was slow but deliberate, with no hurry, no tension, no anxiety. It was the pace of the invincible.
This was almost my old nightmare. The only thing lacking was the gloating desire I’d seen on the faces in my dream—the smiles of vindictive joy. Thus far, the Volturi were too disciplined to show any emotion at all. They also showed no surprise or dismay at the collection of vampires that waited for them here—a collection that looked suddenly disorganized and unprepared in comparison. They showed no surprise at the giant wolf that stood in our midst.
I couldn’t help counting. There were thirty-two of them. Even if you did not count the two drifting, waifish black-cloaked figures in the very back, who I took to be the wives—their protected position suggesting that they would not be involved in the attack—we were still outnumbered. There were just nineteen of us who would fight, and then seven more to watch as we were destroyed. Even counting the ten wolves, they had us.
“The redcoats are coming, the redcoats are coming,” Garrett muttered mysteriously to himself and then chuckled once. He slid one step closer to Kate.
“They did come,” Vladimir whispered to Stefan.
“The wives,” Stefan hissed back. “The entire guard. All of them together. It’s well we didn’t try Volterra.”
And then, as if their numbers were not enough, while the Volturi slowly and majestically advanced, more vampires began entering the clearing behind them.
The faces in this seemingly endless influx of vampires were the antithesis to the Volturi’s expressionless discipline—they wore a kaleidoscope of emotions. At first there was the shock and even some anxiety as they saw the unexpected force awaiting them. But that concern passed quickly; they were secure in their overwhelming numbers, secure in their position behind the unstoppable Volturi force. Their features returned to the expression they’d worn before we’d surprised them.
It was easy enough to understand their mindset—the faces were that explicit. This was an angry mob, whipped to a frenzy and slavering for justice. I did not fully realize the vampire world’s feeling toward the immortal children before I read these faces.
It was clear that this motley, disorganized horde—more than forty vampires altogether—was the Volturi’s own kind of witness. When we were dead, they would spread the word that the criminals had been eradicated, that the Volturi had acted with nothing but impartiality. Most looked like they hoped for more than just an opportunity to witness—they wanted to help tear and burn.
We didn’t have a prayer. Even if we could somehow neutralize the Volturi’s advantages, they could still bury us in bodies. Even if we killed Demetri, Jacob would not be able to outrun this.
I could feel it as the same comprehension sunk in around me. Despair weighted the air, pushing me down with more pressure than before.
One vampire in the opposing force did not seem to belong to either party; I recognized Irina as she hesitated in between the two companies, her expression unique among the others. Irina’s horrified gaze was locked on Tanya’s position in the front line. Edward snarled, a very low but fervent sound.
“Alistair was right,” he murmured to Carlisle.
I watched Carlisle glance at Edward questioningly.
“Alistair was right?” Tanya whispered.
“They—Caius and Aro—come to destroy and acquire,” Edward breathed almost silently back; only our side could hear. “They have many layers of strategy already in place. If Irina’s accusation had somehow proven to be false, they were committed to find another reason to take offense. But they can see Renesmee now, so they are perfectly sanguine about their course. We could still attempt to defend against their other contrived charges, but first they have to stop, to hear the truth about Renesmee.” Then, even lower. “Which they have no intention of doing.”
Jacob gave a strange little huff.
And then, unexpectedly, two seconds later, the procession
didhalt. The low music of perfectly synchronized movements turned to silence. The flawless discipline remained unbroken; the Volturi froze into absolute stillness as one. They stood about a hundred yards away from us.
Behind me, to the sides, I heard the beating of large hearts, closer than before. I risked glances to the left and the right from the corners of my eyes to see what had stopped the Volturi advance.
The wolves had joined us.
On either side of our uneven line, the wolves branched out in long, bordering arms. I only spared a fraction of a second to note that there were more than ten wolves, to recognize the wolves I knew and the ones I’d never seen before. There were sixteen of them spaced evenly around us—seventeen total, counting Jacob. It was clear from their heights and oversized paws that the newcomers all were very, very young. I supposed I should have foreseen this. With so many vampires encamped in the neighborhood, a werewolf population explosion was inevitable.
More children dying. I wondered why Sam had allowed this, and then I realized he had no other choice. If any of the wolves stood with us, the Volturi would be sure to search out the rest. They had gambled their entire species on this stand.
And we were going to lose.
Abruptly, I was furious. Beyond furious, I was murderously enraged. My hopeless despair vanished entirely. A faint reddish glow highlighted the dark figures in front of me, and all I wanted in that moment was the chance to sink my teeth into them, to rip their limbs from their bodies and pile them for burning. I was so maddened I could have danced around the pyre where they roasted alive; I would have laughed while their ashes smoldered. My lips curved back automatically, and a low, fierce snarl tore up my throat from the pit of my stomach. I realized the corners of my mouth were turned up in a smile.
Beside me, Zafrina and Senna echoed my hushed growl. Edward squeezed the hand he still held, cautioning me.
The shadowed Volturi faces were still expressionless for the most part. Only two sets of eyes betrayed any emotion at all. In the very center, touching hands, Aro and Caius had paused to evaluate, and the entire guard had paused with them, waiting for the order to kill. The two did not look at each other, but it was obvious that they were communicating. Marcus, though touching Aro’s other hand, did not seem part of the conversation. His expression was not as mindless as the guards’, but it was nearly as blank. Like the one other time I’d seen him, he appeared to be utterly bored.
The bodies of the Volturi’s witnesses leaned toward us, their eyes fixed furiously on Renesmee and me, but they stayed near the fringe of the forest, leaving a wide berth between themselves and the Volturi soldiers. Only Irina hovered close behind the Volturi, just a few paces away from the ancient females—both fair-haired with powdery skin and filmed eyes—and their two massive bodyguards.
There was a woman in one of the darker gray cloaks just behind Aro. I couldn’t be sure, but it looked like she might actually be touching his back. Was this the other shield, Renata? I wondered, as Eleazar had, if she would be able to repel
me.
But I would not waste my life trying to get to Caius or Aro. I had more vital targets.
I searched the line for them now and had no difficulty picking out the two petite, deep gray cloaks near the heart of the arrangement. Alec and Jane, easily the smallest members of the guard, stood just to Marcus’s side, flanked by Demetri on the other. Their lovely faces were smooth, giving nothing away; they wore the darkest cloaks beside the pure black of the ancients. The witch twins, Vladimir had called them. Their powers were the cornerstone of the Volturi offensive. The jewels in Aro’s collection.
My muscles flexed, and venom welled in my mouth.
Aro’s and Caius’s clouded red eyes flickered across our line. I read disappointment in Aro’s face as his gaze roved over our faces again and again, looking for one that was missing. Chagrin tightened his lips.
In that moment, I was nothing but grateful that Alice had run.
As the pause lengthened, I heard Edward’s breath speed.
“Edward?” Carlisle asked, low and anxious.
“They’re not sure how to proceed. They’re weighing options, choosing key targets—me, of course, you, Eleazar, Tanya. Marcus is reading the strength of our ties to each other, looking for weak points. The Romanians’ presence irritates them. They’re worried about the faces they don’t recognize—Zafrina and Senna in particular—and the wolves, naturally. They’ve never been outnumbered before. That’s what stopped them.”
“Outnumbered?” Tanya whispered incredulously.
“They don’t count their witnesses,” Edward breathed. “They are nonentities, meaningless to the guard. Aro just enjoys an audience.”
“Should I speak?” Carlisle asked.
Edward hesitated, then nodded. “This is the only chance you’ll get.”
Carlisle squared his shoulders and paced several steps ahead of our defensive line. I hated to see him alone, unprotected.
He spread his arms, holding his palms up as if in greeting. “Aro, my old friend. It’s been centuries.”
The white clearing was dead silent for a long moment. I could feel the tension rolling off Edward as he listened to Aro’s assessment of Carlisle’s words. The strain mounted as the seconds ticked by.
And then Aro stepped forward out of the center of the Volturi formation. The shield, Renata, moved with him as if the tips of her fingers were sewn to his robe. For the first time, the Volturi ranks reacted. A muttered grumble rolled through the line, eyebrows lowered into scowls, lips curled back from teeth. A few of the guard leaned forward into a crouch.
Aro held one hand up toward them. “Peace.”
He walked just a few paces more, then cocked his head to one side. His milky eyes glinted with curiosity.
“Fair words, Carlisle,” he breathed in his thin, wispy voice. “They seem out of place, considering the army you’ve assembled to kill me, and to kill my dear ones.”
Carlisle shook his head and stretched his right hand forward as if there were not still almost a hundred yards between them. “You have but to touch my hand to know that was never my intent.”
Aro’s shrewd eyes narrowed. “But how can your intent possibly matter, dear Carlisle, in the face of what you have done?” He frowned, and a shadow of sadness crossed his features—whether it was genuine or not, I could not tell.
“I have not committed the crime you are here to punish me for.”
“Then step aside and let us punish those responsible. Truly, Carlisle, nothing would please me more than to preserve your life today.”
“No one has broken the law, Aro. Let me explain.” Again, Carlisle offered his hand.
Before Aro could answer, Caius drifted swiftly forward to Aro’s side.
“So many pointless rules, so many unnecessary laws you create for yourself, Carlisle,” the white-haired ancient hissed. “How is it possible that you defend the breaking of one that truly matters?”
“The law is not broken. If you would listen—”
“We see the child, Carlisle,” Caius snarled. “Do not treat us as fools.”
“She is
notan immortal. She is not a vampire. I can easily prove this with just a few moments—”
Caius cut him off. “If she is not one of the forbidden, then why have you massed a battalion to protect her?”
“Witnesses, Caius, just as you have brought.” Carlisle gestured to the angry horde at the edge of the woods; some of them growled in response. “Any one of these friends can tell you the truth about the child. Or you could just look at her, Caius. See the flush of human blood in her cheeks.”
“Artifice!” Caius snapped. “Where is the informer? Let her come forward!” He craned his neck around until he spotted Irina lingering behind the wives. “You! Come!”
Irina stared at him uncomprehendingly, her face like that of someone who has not entirely awakened from a hideous nightmare. Impatiently, Caius snapped his fingers. One of the wives’ huge bodyguards moved to Irina’s side and prodded her roughly in the back. Irina blinked twice and then walked slowly toward Caius in a daze. She stopped several yards short, her eyes still on her sisters.
Caius closed the distance between them and slapped her across the face.
It couldn’t have hurt, but there was something terribly degrading about the action. It was like watching someone kick a dog. Tanya and Kate hissed in synchronization.
Irina’s body went rigid and her eyes finally focused on Caius. He pointed one clawed finger at Renesmee, where she clung to my back, her fingers still tangled in Jacob’s fur. Caius turned entirely red in my furious view. A growl rumbled through Jacob’s chest.
“This is the child you saw?” Caius demanded. “The one that was obviously more than human?”
Irina peered at us, examining Renesmee for the first time since entering the clearing. Her head tilted to the side, confusion crossed her features.
“Well?” Caius snarled.
“I… I’m not sure,” she said, her tone perplexed.
Caius’s hand twitched as if he wanted to slap her again. “What do you mean?” he said in a steely whisper.
“She’s not the same, but I think it’s the same child. What I mean is, she’s changed. This child is bigger than the one I saw, but—”
Caius’s furious gasp crackled through his suddenly bared teeth, and Irina broke off without finishing. Aro flitted to Caius’s side and put a restraining hand on his shoulder.
“Be composed, brother. We have time to sort this out. No need to be hasty.”
With a sullen expression, Caius turned his back on Irina.
“Now, sweetling,” Aro said in a warm, sugary murmur. “Show me what you’re trying to say.” He held his hand out to the bewildered vampire.
Uncertainly, Irina took his hand. He held hers for only five seconds.
“You see, Caius?” he said. “It’s a simple matter to get what we need.”
Caius didn’t answer him. From the corner of his eye, Aro glanced once at his audience, his mob, and then turned back to Carlisle.
“And so we have a mystery on our hands, it seems. It would appear the child has grown. Yet Irina’s first memory was clearly that of an immortal child. Curious.”
“That’s exactly what I’m trying to explain,” Carlisle said, and from the change in his voice, I could guess at his relief. This was the pause we had pinned all our nebulous hopes on.
I felt no relief. I waited, almost numb with rage, for the layers of strategy Edward had promised.
Carlisle held out his hand again.
Aro hesitated for a moment. “I would rather have the explanation from someone more central to the story, my friend. Am I wrong to assume that this breach was not of your making?”
“There was no breach.”
“Be that as it may, I
willhave every facet of the truth.” Aro’s feathery voice hardened. “And the best way to get that is to have the evidence directly from your talented son.” He inclined his head in Edward’s direction. “As the child clings to his newborn mate, I’m assuming Edward is involved.”
Of course he wanted Edward. Once he could see into Edward’s mind, he would know
allour thoughts. Except mine.
Edward turned to quickly kiss my forehead and Renesmee’s, not meeting my eyes. Then he strode across the snowy field, clapping Carlisle on the shoulder as he passed. I heard a low whimper from behind me—Esme’s terror breaking through.
The red haze I saw around the Volturi army flamed brighter than before. I could not bear to watch Edward cross the empty white space alone—but I also could not endure to have Renesmee one step closer to our adversaries. The opposing needs tore at me; I was frozen so tightly it felt like my bones might shatter from the pressure of it.
I saw Jane smile as Edward crossed the midpoint in the distance between us, when he was closer to them than he was to us.
That smug little smile did it. My fury peaked, higher even than the raging bloodlust I’d felt the moment the wolves had committed to this doomed fight. I could taste madness on my tongue—I felt it flow through me like a tidal wave of pure power. My muscles tightened, and I acted automatically. I threw my shield with all the force in my mind, flung it across the impossible expanse of the field—ten times my best distance—like a javelin. My breath rushed out in a huff with the exertion.
The shield blew out from me in a bubble of sheer energy, a mushroom cloud of liquid steel. It pulsed like a living thing—I could
feelit, from the apex to the edges.
There was no recoil to the elastic fabric now; in that instant of raw force, I saw that the backlash I’d felt before was of my own making—I had been clinging to that invisible part of me in self-defense, subconsciously unwilling to let it go. Now I set it free, and my shield exploded a good fifty yards out from me effortlessly, taking only a fraction of my concentration. I could feel it flex like just another muscle, obedient to my will. I pushed it, shaped it to a long, pointed oval. Everything underneath the flexible iron shield was suddenly a part of me—I could feel the life force of everything it covered like points of bright heat, dazzling sparks of light surrounding me. I thrust the shield forward the length of the clearing, and exhaled in relief when I felt Edward’s brilliant light within my protection. I held there, contracting this new muscle so that it closely surrounded Edward, a thin but unbreakable sheet between his body and our enemies.
