Blood. Everywhere I looked, the crimson fluid dripped down the walls and pooled on the polished floor. The smell assaulted my nostrils, so strong and sharp it made me gag.
"Please," a woman sobbed, looking up at me in despair, clutching her dead husband. Her face was spattered with his blood. Mascara ran with the tears down her plump cheeks. Her elegant bun had fallen into a wild mess, from being shoved and tripped during the panic only moments before.
"Please, help me."
I wanted to help. I wanted to lie and say that she'd be okay, but I had no stomach for such empty promises.
A cold hand grabbed my shoulder, making me jump. I looked up into blood red eyes.
"Go on," Aro said, flashing a devilish smile. "Take her."
I looked to the woman, who still clutched her husband's lifeless body, sobbing and rocking back and forth. Her eyes met mine, pleading for help, for mercy.
"No..." I whispered.
Most of the other vampires had finished feeding. There were whimpers and sobs from dying humans, while a vampire played an ominously upbeat symphony on the grand piano in the corner. While the bodies were being dragged unceremoniously into the center of the room and set ablaze, I wanted to scream. Moments before, they had all been so lively and exuberant; there was nothing I could've done to stop the massacre.
The ancient vampire, Aro, tilted his head at me. "What ever is the matter? Are you not hungry, child?"
Everything was wrong. It was so horribly wrong. These vampires were proud of their killing; they took pleasure in it. All those people were invited to the party, thinking they would be treated to a spectacular feast on behalf of their gracious hosts. They were unaware they were lambs to the slaughter, until the doors were sealed and the vampires attacked. By then, there was no hope.
My lips curled into a grimace and I glared at Aro, ready to tell him exactly what I was thinking. But another hand rested on my back. Mason, my older brother, moved to my side.
"She doesn't need blood," he said, coming to my rescue. When I looked up at him, his lips were smeared red. Quickly, he wiped them on his sleeve, but it was too late for that. I saw what he had done to that poor woman's husband...
Aro raised his eyebrows, intrigued.
"Ah, fascinating," he said, fixing his eyes on me; they were vacant of compassion, regarding me in a similar way one would examine a lab rat. "How exciting, I am able to witness your first kill."
My jaw tightened and I clenched my fists. I knew he saw the disgust on my face, because he narrowed his eyes slightly. Brazenly meeting his stare, I declared, "I won't kill her."
The other vampires had gathered nearby, watching us. They all heard my words, scoffing or exchanging glances, mocking me. A few never looked away from their leader, eager to see his reaction to my refusal.
"I see," he said with a dangerously polite smile. "I understand you and your brother have spent quite some time wandering, living among the humans. It's only natural to feel..." he paused to glance toward the weeping woman-who had the fortune to survive the initial bloodbath-"sympathetic, toward them."
"Let her go," I said before I could bite my tongue.
The other vampires gasped, laughed, and sneered. Their leader simply cocked his head to the side, glancing toward the quivering woman. Almost rueful, he said, "I'm afraid that's not possible. She has witnessed too much. We have rules, which are upheld strictly, in order to protect our existence. There are no exceptions."
"Why?" I cried, looking around at all of them. "Look at her! She's harmless."
"We have survived for thousands of years, only because we have kept our existence secret. In this modern age, it would only take a single human to upset the masses. As I have stated before, we cannot afford to take that chance, child."
"But-" I began, desperate to save her from following her husband in death, but Mason cut me off.
"Melanie, enough," he said sharply. His dark eyes met my wide green ones, urging me to shut up before I got us both into trouble. Then, he looked at Aro. "I'll take care of her."
My brother was reliable. I fought to hide the smile creeping up my cheeks. He left my side, striding toward the woman. She wailed loudly in fear, but refused to let go of her husband's body. For a fleeting moment, I wholeheartedly believed she would be okay; Mason intended to wipe her memory, so she didn't have to die. He would save her life.
When he reached her, he bent down to one knee. His back was to me, but I could picture his eyes turning black, so they could suck out all of the horrors the poor woman witnessed. My naive presumptions were obliterated in an instant.
A shrill scream of agony made me gasp. I heard the sickening sound of teeth ripping into flesh. Fresh blood trickled to the floor, as Mason drained the woman, right next to the man he had killed moments before. Bile rose in my throat and I fought the urge to throw up.
It was then I realized what my brother had become.
"Monster..." I whispered. The sun was warm, bathing my skin in rays of gold, but I still shivered. Memories continued to flood in, filling the emptiness with a dreadful cold.
I had curled up beside the river, not too far from the Cullens' place. After my breakfast episode, Carlisle had phoned Charlie to feed him the latest information regarding the suspect's description. Then Edward and Carlisle took me into the study for over an hour, dissecting my brain for every shred of detail I remembered about my brother. Without Jasper there, my patience quickly ran out and my volatile temper erupted. I ended up throwing a rather expensive looking vase at Edward before running out of the house.
Call it over-dramatic, but I needed to be alone. Edward knew that, so he was probably the one who made sure no one went after me.
Huddled with my back against a tree, I hugged my knees to my chest. I just listened to the sound of rushing water; it was sweeter than any lullaby. Even when embraced by the tranquility of nature, I was far from relaxed. My fingers dug into the flesh of my arms. If I didn't hold myself together, I would shatter into a thousand useless pieces just like that vase.
Finally, I knew who I was, where I came from, and what happened in the forest. Somehow, Edward and Carlisle had been able to chisel away some of the blockage in my brain, allowing memories to trickle through. Reflecting on all that recovered knowledge, I felt more lost and confused than ever.
My brother hadn't always been a monster. He had a warm heart before the Volturi corrupted it. For the first seventeen years of my life, he had been the one to raise and protect me.
Mason had only been fifteen years old when our father Jethro met his demise. Not that it was a huge loss for us, or the world at large; the man had practically been the definition of evil. Having lived hundreds of years, he had made killing into a morbid art form. When he heard the legends of half-vampire children, he set out to create his own coven of flesh-and-blood. He kidnapped a young woman from a brothel and forced her to give birth to Mason.
Tragically, birthing him destroyed her frail human body. Her agonizing death was of no consequence to Jethro; in his eyes, she had served her purpose and was therefore disposable. Without a mother to nurture him, Mason had no choice but to rely on Jethro's guidance. Whatever transpired in the early stages of my brother's development, it was anything but innocent father-son bonding.
Fifteen years later, they immigrated to Ireland, where I was eventually born. My mother Isobel survived long enough to cradle me in her arms and gave me a name, before Jethro cruelly snapped her neck.
I was spared the unpleasant experience of knowing our father on a deeper, personal level. Only five days after I was born, a vampire named Rajah came seeking revenge. It wasn't until years after that Mason admitted he had been the one who tipped him off, in retaliation for killing Isobel. According to his fond memories of her, she was a strong-willed but gentle-natured woman; she deserved better than an abrupt end to her brief twenty years of life.
Holding me in his arms, my brother left Jethro to face the wrath of Rajah. The older vampire let us go; he had no quarrel with children.
For years, we traveled the countryside and wandered from village to village, town to town. When we were feeling mischievous or were out of money, we would steal enough to get by. When we were feeling honest, we assisted locals with their menial labor to earn money for food and lodgings. Mason was permanently scarred by the abominable things Jethro taught him, but he promised he wouldn't become that vicious. We swore to each other we would never hunt or kill humans. That changed in the early springtime of 2011, when our travels brought us to Italy.
Three vampires had been dispatched to collect us.
The rich aromas permeating the crisp air had drawn me to a market stand where a plump woman was serving some kind of delicious soup. Unable to resist, I purchased some to fill my stomach. It tasted as wonderful as it smelled.
"Mason, you should try some," I offered my brother enthusiastically, but he didn't even see me holding out a spoonful for him. His attention had been diverted to one of the alleyways that led away from the local festivities, as if plotting his escape.
"What, are you gonna run away?" I teased, nudging his arm.
Large crowds made him anxious. They brought back unpleasant memories of father-son exploits of which he never elaborated too much on. All he would tell me was there were demons that shadowed his every step. Deviant creatures only he could see, tempting and taunting him wherever he went.
He glanced at me briefly, but returning his eyes to that curious alleyway. A crease formed between his brows as he continued staring.
"What is it?" I asked, feeling a twinge of fear. He acted that way when he thought we were in danger. It rarely happened, but occasionally we would encounter vampires in our travels. Vampires who were mostly nuisances, save for the few who made it their mission to torment us.
"A vampire. I saw him, watching us. He walked off but I think he wanted me to follow him."
That sounded like a very bad idea. Grabbing his coat, I tugged him along and wove through the crowd of mingling locals and tourists.
"Then we should go the opposite way he wants us to go," I advised, wanting no part it. "Last time we tried to be friends with vampires, it didn't go well."
"You're telling me," he remarked caustically. He had been the one who almost got his head bashed to pieces after pissing off a vampire during our stay in Russia. The same vampire who had tried inducting us into his coven. If I hadn't been there to diffuse the tension, well, Mason wouldn't be around to say anything witty or offensive another day.
"We shouldn't have stayed this long," Mason spoke up again. "It's like we attract them."
Nothing worth mentioning happened on the way back to the hotel, where we had chosen to stay for the week. It was a single room with two twin-sized beds; decent enough for two nomadic half-breeds who had slept in stables during rougher times. There was a small but sufficient kitchen area and one bathroom, of course. While Mason busied himself with packing his things, I prepared for a quick shower to refresh before we hit the road.
In the process of undressing, I heard someone knock on the door. After a brief silence, Mason must have gone to the door so he could look through the peep-hole to check who would be standing there.
"Melanie," I heard his urgent call before the sound of a door being forced open; it sounded like it had been struck with a battering ram, but it was definitely an immortal who had kicked their way through.
My heart jolted and I scrambled for the window in the bathroom. It was small; despite my petite frame, not even I could wiggle through if my life depended on it. Swearing, I listened to Mason struggling with the intruder and knew he was having difficulty by himself. He had taught me to run and leave the fighting to him, but that no longer seemed to be the best plan of survival.
Ripping open the bathroom door, I prepared to attack whoever had dared to intrude into our room, but what I witnessed stunned me.
Frightening black smoke swirled around the form of a strange man, who held his arms outward; the smoke seemed to billow out from his palms. On the floor, Mason was incapacitated and appeared to be feeling around blindly. He touched his own face and let out a strange sound, distressed by whatever was happening to him. The intruding vampire looked over his shoulder at me and smirked in smug malevolence.
"What are you doing to him? Stop it! Get the hell out!" I screamed at him in my panic, lunging forward to intervene. Before I could reach him, someone snatched hold of my shoulders and hoisted me off the the floor so high my feet dangled.
A hulking man had seemingly materialized out of nowhere to intervene. He held me from behind like I was a child throwing a tantrum as I thrashed in his grasp; meanwhile, my brother was being tormented by the sinister black smoke.
"What the hell is this? Let us go!"
"Hush now," a light, feminine voice scolded me from the doorway. There stood a petite girl with angelic features that were overpowered by piercing red eyes. She, along with the other two men, were dressed in old-fashioned robes. "We have come to escort you to the party."
"What party?" I demanded, before once again looking to the pitiful heap on the floor that was my brother. "What is he doing to him? Make him stop!"
The girl blinked slowly as if annoyed, then set her eyes upon the man looming over Mason. "Alec," she said in a simple command, addressing him in a way that held authority.
On command, the smoke retreated to its source and released Mason from whatever torment he had been enduring. He gasped for breath as if he had been suffocating and looked around like he was seeing for the first time. Noticing the three vampires in the room, he was on his feet in an instant, enraged.
"Get away from us. We don't want to be recruited," he spat venomously, taking a step toward the girl in a brazen attempt to intimidate her. One piercing stare corrected his error as he collapsed to his knees, suddenly afflicted by excruciating pain.
"What you want is irrelevant. The Volturi has requested your presence," she stated in a tone that implied her words were absolute. Then she smiled and blinked her eyes, releasing Mason from the torture she had been inflicting with her sadistic gaze. While he recovered, the girl looked from him to me. Her delicate features were misleading; there was nothing sweet or innocent about her.
"Come now, children. We mustn't be late."
On his feet, Mason glowered at the girl and directed equally hostile looks at the other two vampires. When his dark eyes found me, he nodded once; he wanted to play along. It wasn't as if we had any choice in the matter. Reluctantly, I forced myself to relax and the enormous vampire holding me aloft eased me back down onto my feet.
"Who are you?" I asked the girl when she turned to lead the way.
Hesitating for a moment, she set her penetrating eyes on me in a way that made me tense, expecting her to demonstrate her dark power on me. For whatever reason, she spared me of that experience and answered flatly, "Jane."
Escorted by Jane and her sinister companions, Mason and I found ourselves in a place called Volterra. There, we were introduced to the powerful leaders of the vampire world who tasked themselves with enforcing unwritten laws and governing the covens. The Volturi; the oldest of immortals we had ever crossed paths with. While several members held authority, there was one in particular who took unnervingly keen interest in us.
Aro; the ancient vampire who lured us in with his generous offer of security and knowledge.
"Welcome, yes, welcome," Aro had greeted, rising eagerly from his throne while the other two leaders remained seated. In his approach, he extended his arms as if to embrace us as long lost relatives while we both hesitated to step through the grand doorway. "Please, come," he beckoned, "Let us get acquainted."
Behind us stood Jane and her sinister companions-Alec and Felix-all of whom would respond with swift violence if we attempted to flee. Greatly outnumbered and outmatched, we had no other choice but to follow direction and hope we weren't being put on trial. In our travels, we heard rumors of the Volturi; some things that weren't entirely flattering.
My hand reflexively grabbed onto my brother's sleeve. He shamelessly wrapped his hand around mine, offering reassurance as he boldly strode into the room. It was never in his nature to allow fear to paralyze him. He seldom showed such weakness; a stubborn trait that often led to confrontations. My rapidly beating heart was on the verge of exploding within my chest when we reached the spot in front of the thrones. Nudging my brother, I tried to get him to look at me, but he was focused on meeting the eyes of the fearsome leaders.
Nervously chewing the inside of my cheek, I hoped Mason would hold his corrosive tongue; offending these vampires would have harsh consequences.
"What fascinating creatures you are," Aro marveled, observing us from a respectable distance. Then he stepped closer, holding his palm out toward me, "Please, take my hand."
The smile on his face was intended to put me at ease, but it was false civility. He might have seemed like the friendly diplomatic type, but that was merely a ruse; his true nature was that of a conniving and vindictive devil.
Regardless of that intuition, I placed my hand in his, resisting the urge to cringe. He closed his eyes as his other hand was placed lightly over the top of mine. His expression of excitement fell slightly and he frowned, before opening his eyes to scrutinize me.
"What a shame," he said, voicing his thoughts as he spoke to no one in particular. Unimpressed, he looked upon me almost piteously, "It would seem this one has no abilities."
"Sorry to disappoint you," I responded spitefully, and immediately regretted it; evidently, I was the one who should watch their tongue.
Aro patted my hand in a friendly manner that I perceived to be condescending. "No need to apologize, young one. We all have shortcomings. Is that not true, Caius?"
The pale haired vampire seated on the throne to the right, who had seemed disinterested, turned his head toward Aro. He must have been listening, though, because he agreed, "True, it is." Then he scrutinized me with calculating red eyes, as if judging my worth. "However, none of us exist without purpose," he stated, directing the statement at us both.
Some would have taken that as a compliment or defense on my behalf, but it aggravated me. They were discussing how useful I would be to them, and they hadn't even asked my name.
Tasting more spiteful venom on my tongue, I almost spat, but Mason squeezed my hand and gave me a look that warned me not to test Aro. Funny, how it was usually him who couldn't resist antagonizing others. He was uncharacteristically reserved, given our circumstances; he must have done the math in his head and come to the conclusion he would never win against them.
Clasping his hands together, Aro shifted his stance to face Mason and once again held his hands out. "Now you," he prompted. Without protest, Mason allowed the vampire to grasp one of his hands, showing no reaction to his touch.
Immediately, Aro caught his breath and his expression was one of elation. "Oh my, what a remarkable gift you have!" he exclaimed, still holding onto my brother's hand. "You must show me. Jane!"
When he called her name, Jane vanished from her post by the door, leaving the room to do his bidding. In less than a minute, she reappeared directly in front of us and forced a young man to his knees with a cruel kick to his shins. There were scratches covering his face and neck, smeared with dried blood; some were scabbed over, others were fresh. They appeared to be self-inflicted, because his fingernails were caked with blood. Wherever he had been before Jane dragged him into the room, it was clear he had been tortured in some way.
What could they possibly gain from keeping a human prisoner? Unable to comfort the man, I clung onto my composure as best I could.
"Melanie and Mason, meet our friend Derek," Aro said, releasing Mason to gesture toward the human. He must have learned our names by touching us. "He witnessed something he shouldn't have. Jane caught him snooping; normally, we handle these matters by getting rid of ...liabilities. Perhaps Mason could persuade our friend. Could you do that, Mason?"
Part of me wanted to tell them all how demented they were. The brother I knew would have refused to participate, but to my shock, Mason pulled his hand from mine and stepped forward. Derek flinched away from my brother; Jane punished him by subjecting him to the torture of her ability. His screaming caused me to clench my jaw and I resisted the urge to cover my ears, while he convulsed on the floor. He clawed at his own face as if trying to peel it off. That explained the other abrasions.
"Jane," Aro chastised sharply, ordering her to stop.
The wicked smirk on her face faded and she relented, once again appearing bored, as if nothing entertained her except inflicting pain. The human man stopped writhing but had lost the motivation to resist. He remained curled up in the fetal position on the floor, sobbing quietly.
Mason lowered himself to one knee and reached out, cradling the man's head in his hands. Prompted to look at him, the human met his eyes and that was all it took for Mason to gain influence. He had shown me only once what he could do; erasing the memories of whoever made direct eye contact allowed us to escape a coven in the past. He refrained from using it since, because he told me it changed who the person was.
Our memories shaped us; taking them away would rob us of who we had been, altering us forever.
"You remember nothing about what happened," Mason spoke in a voice devoid of emotion; it chilled me whenever he withdrew emotionally. He became cold and unreachable; it was likely how he had survived those years under the influence of our father. "You were mugged. You never got a good look at their faces. Vampires don't exist."
"Vampires...don't exist," the man named Derek repeated tonelessly. When Mason released him, he shook his head in a daze and looked around at us, confused. "How did I get here? Who are you people?"
Aro clapped his hands and made a sound of pure delight. "Astounding! Mason, you must stay with us. We have much to learn from one another. Melanie, you are welcome, as well. One doesn't need a special ability to be worthy among us."
"Someone explain what's going on," Derek spoke up again, on his feet although it was hard for him to remain upright. He was badly hurt, in need of medical attention. The mugging story would make sense, but the longer he remained surrounded by red eyes, he was bound to experience flashbacks of the truth. "Please, show me the exit. I need to go home."
"Of course," Aro assured him with an eerily forced smile. He looked past Mason and I to one of the vampires who had gathered behind us. "Felix, would you ensure our friend Derek makes it home safely?" he requested in a way that seemed far too generous.
Without saying a word, Felix brushed past me and approached Derek. The human shrank back from the intimidating vampire who was three times his size. He said nothing to gain his trust or fool him into a false sense of security. No lies slithered past his lips. Felix simply reached his large hands out to grab hold of the man's head and snapped his neck.
Quick and painless.
If Mason was appalled, he never showed it. I, however, couldn't contain myself.
"How could you?" I cried, glaring at Felix, who had yet to say a word since we had met. He looked at me with indifference; he had taken no pleasure from what he did, he merely carried out the will of the merciless Volturi. Which caused me to focus my disdain on Aro, saying, "You told him he could go home. My brother erased his memory. There was no reason to kill him!"
"Touching; your compassion," Aro remarked, clasping his hands together in front of his chest. "As others have come to understand, our laws cannot be bent. Until we know your brother's ability has permanent effects, I'm afraid we cannot risk our survival to spare one human."
"You're heartless," I accused, no longer caring if I angered him with insubordinate behavior. "We want no part of your Volturi. Come on Mason, let's go."
When I attempted to pull my brother, he resisted and went so far as to tug free of my grasp.
"Melanie," he scolded me. "We should stay and consider what he's offering us."
My mouth fell open. The manner in which he said it reminded me of that expression; when life gives you lemons, make lemonade. These were bad lemons, twisted and rotten.
"What?" I hissed at him, not caring if the other vampires knew how I loathed being in their presence. "You can't be serious?"
Aro looked pleased. "Oh, how exciting! Our new friends must be famished. The party will begin shortly; Jane, Felix, prepare the guests."
For some reason unfathomable to me, Mason had been mesmerized by Aro. I distrusted him the moment I looked into his cold, blood-red eyes; Mason, on the other hand, had been entranced by his charm and power. That night, something wicked possessed the body of the only person I had ever trusted. That night, I witnessed the brutal, ruthless slaughter of innocent humans. Mason tore into that poor woman's throat; he decided to take her life instead of her memories.
My brother had chosen to place his loyalty in the Volturi. He consented to being part of Aro's collection of vampires with abilities to be wielded at his command. He accepted the role of enforcing a tyrannical rule over the vampire world, under the guise of law and order.
The betrayal severed our bond irreparably. My broken heart craved vengeance. I wanted to destroy Aro for robbing my brother from me, but I lacked the strength. So, while Mason embarked on his first assignment to prove himself worthy of the Volturi battalion, I seized the opportunity to escape.
The mighty golden eye of the sun illuminated the open square, while I tucked myself into the shadows of the alley. Knowing the Volturi avoided emerging into direct sunlight, I had waited for noontime to slip out the window of the guest room I had been given. No one had seemed to notice my absence yet, but I had to move quickly.
Gambling on the fact that I possessed no useful abilities to contribute, I wagered they might let me go.
When I stepped into the sun and allowed the rays to bathe my skin, my flesh became engulfed in flames; at least, it felt like that. Before I could scream, an enormous hand clamped over my mouth to muffle the sound and tugged me back into the cover of darkness. None of the people moving about the square noticed a thing; they continued strolling, oblivious to my suffering. Helpless against the fire charring my skin and unable to struggle free of the arms restraining me, I screamed into the cold hand that could only belong to Felix.
As suddenly as it had ignited, the flame was extinguished. Realization dawned that I had never been on fire. Someone only penetrated my mind, making me believe I was burning alive. That much was confirmed as I met the eyes of a certain, sadistic wench.
Jane.