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 vampires.
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 hanging 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 face 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 her 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.
Aro continued to drift with a thoughtful expression. He was quiet for a moment, his eyes flickering between the three of us. Then, abruptly, he shook his head.
“A first,” he said to himself. “I wonder if she is immune to our other talents....Jane, dear?”
“No!” Edward snarled the word. Alice grabbed his arm with a restraining hand. He shook her off.
Little Jane smiled up happily at Aro. “Yes, Master?”
Edward was truly snarling now, the sound ripping and tearing from him, glaring at Aro with baleful eyes. The room had gone still, everyone watching him with amazed disbelief, as if he were committing some embarrassing social faux pas. I saw Felix grin hopefully and move a step forward. Aro glanced at him once, and he froze in place, his grin turning to a sulky expression.
Then he spoke to Jane. “I was wondering, my dear one, if Bella is immune to you.”
I could barely hear Aro over Edward’s furious growls. He let go of me, moving to hide me from their view. Caius ghosted in our direction, with his entourage, to watch.
Jane turned toward us with a beatific smile.
“Don’t!” Alice cried as Edward launched himself at the little girl.
Before I could react, before anyone could jump between them, before Aro’s bodyguards could tense, Edward was on the ground.
No one had touched him, but he was on the stone floor writhing in obvious agony, while I stared in horror.
Jane was smiling only at him now, and it all clicked together. What Alice had said about formidable gifts, why everyone treated Jane with such deference, and why Edward had thrown himself in her path before she could do that to me.
“Stop!” I shrieked, my voice echoing in the silence, jumping forward to put myself between them. But Alice threw her arms around me in an unbreakable grasp and ignored my struggles. No sound escaped Edward’s lips as he cringed against the stones. It felt like my head would explode from the pain of watching this.
“Jane,” Aro recalled her in a tranquil voice. She looked up quickly, still smiling with pleasure, her eyes questioning. As soon as Jane looked away, Edward was still.
Aro inclined his head toward me.
Jane turned her smile in my direction.
I didn’t even meet her gaze. I watched Edward from the prison of Alice’s arms, still struggling pointlessly.
“He’s fine,” Alice whispered in a tight voice. As she spoke, he sat up, and then sprang lightly to his feet. His eyes met mine, and they were horror-struck. At first I thought the horror was for what he had just suffered. But then he looked quickly at Jane, and back to me—and his face relaxed into relief.
I looked at Jane, too, and she no longer smiled. She glared at me, her jaw clenched with the intensity of her focus. I shrank back, waiting for the pain.
Nothing happened.
Edward was by my side again. He touched Alice’s arm, and she surrendered me to him.
Aro started to laugh. “Ha, ha, ha,” he chuckled. “This is wonderful!”
Jane hissed in frustration, leaning forward like she was preparing to spring.
“Don’t be put out, dear one,” Aro said in a comforting tone, placing a powder-light hand on her shoulder. “She confounds us all.”
The Twilight Saga Collection Page 74