enemy

Beau

"Then let us begin."

Though the chilly Alaskan air could no longer bother me, I could still feel the difference in temperature on my skin, and something about Sulpicia's smile made the human in me want to shiver. I was glad when her gaze shifted away.

"Elena," Sulpicia said softly. "This is your area of expertise. I will leave it to you. Tacita, if you would come here for a moment—after all, if Beau is to practice, he must have subjects."

Tacita obediently went to Sulpicia's side, and stood there, stiff and staring straight ahead like a Roman sentry.

Elena nodded once, before her gaze turned reluctantly to me. Her face smoothed with a kind of stoic professionalism, all remnants of the terror of what had almost happened to her brother gone for the moment.

From what I understood, Elena's power was to somehow see the gifts of other vampires, so her role within the Volturi back when she was a guard would have probably been to identify useful talents and oversee their training. As far as I knew, Sulpicia had no other gift like it now, and I could see why she would have regretted losing her.

Of course, near as I could tell Elena's sight wasn't going to be a whole lot of help here. She couldn't directly see what I could do, or had the potential to do. All this was going to be a shot in the dark.

Sulpicia reached over and took Tacita's wrist. "We will serve as the first test," she said. "Beau, you will attempt to project your power over Tacita, to prevent me seeing her thoughts."

Elena nodded once. She approached the two, gesturing for me to do the same.

Kirill kept his distance, but watched us closely. After what had nearly happened to Ivan, I could only imagine what he was thinking—perhaps wondering, as I was, if I failed to be able to do what Sulpicia needed if she would change her mind and go after Ivan to have him executed after all.

I followed Elena's lead cautiously, and at last she turned to me.

"As Lady Sulpicia explained in her message, it is clear your gift is that of the rare sixth category—a talent that works in reaction to other talents. You are also a shield, and our objective will be to see if that shield can be projected to include others as well."

Her tone was clipped and formal, like a lawyer explaining possible avenues of action to avoid a client going to jail. This had been her job for centuries, and she knew how to do it.

Even so, I couldn't stop the sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. I would follow Elena's directions to the letter, try with all my might to do what Sulpicia seemed to think I could. I wasn't stupid—I knew if it turned out I wasn't useful the way Sulpicia thought, I and Jules both would be in peril, and perhaps Edythe too if she was able to catch up to us. Yet—I couldn't push away the sense that this was all going to be a colossal waste of time. After all, with my new vampire brain thinking a thousand thoughts a second, if I could do something more with this power than I was already doing, surely I would already know it.

If Elena noticed my inner turmoil, she didn't show it, and merely extended a hand in Tacita's direction, signaling me to come closer.

"You may find it easier at first with physical contact," she said.

I hesitated, then reached forward slowly, cautiously. Tacita stared back at me with piercing burgundy eyes, cold as ice. But she made no move to stop me as, very carefully, I pressed my fingers to her free wrist.

Sulpicia was still touching Tacita, and I knew every one of her current thoughts, as well as every other memory of her life from centuries past, all triumphs and humiliations, were flowing into her. If Tacita felt any discomfort, she didn't show it.

I took a short breath. Being near Tacita set my teeth on edge— knowing what she'd almost done to Ivan and doubtless many more— but I had to forget about that and do what I was told.

"Now what?" I said gruffly after a moment.

"Close your eyes," Elena answered.

Although my newborn instincts screamed against closing my eyes in front of so many other vampires I hardly trusted, I complied.

"Now... focus," Elena intoned. "Do you feel it? Do you feel a presence around you? A glass wall, perhaps, or a hood of chain mail, a helmet—even a cloud of smoke. Something that's a part of you, standing between you and those that would try to penetrate your mind."

A deep crease formed in my brow. I tried to feel it—feel something around me. Like a forcefield maybe, or a wall of bulletproof glass. However, in spite of all my concentration, so much sharper than it had ever been as a human, nothing came. It was just me and nothingness.

I finally shook my head slowly. "I don't feel anything."

"That's not unusual," Elena said gently, reassuringly. "Perhaps the cloud of smoke will be the best analogy, that often seems the most effective with gifts of a more insubstantial nature. Focus on that. Imagine yourself feeling something around you, something you would not expect yourself to feel. Focus, not on the physical world, on something physically around your head, but on the mental world, the world that exists in your mind. Imagine something floating in the air around your inner world."

Elena was quickly losing me now, and I had to open my eyes. Thinking abstractly was not my strong suit, and a short irritable breath escaped me. However, as my gaze met Elena's, though her expression remained perfectly calm, professional, her eyes were intense, almost desperate. Try harder, her eyes seemed to say. You must try harder.

My eyes flickered automatically to Sulpicia. That faint smile was still on her lips, but a hint of tension was just visible in her jaw now. I thought of Jules, of Edythe, wherever she was, and even Ivan, headed now back to his home with his brother.

I closed my eyes without voicing any complaints, and again concentrated.

I let my imagination roam. First I pictured a metal helmet over my head—that was the one that made the most sense to me. However, after a few moments I reluctantly moved on to the image of the smoke, a heavy white mist obscuring my head from view. I tried to do as Elena said, and shift from thinking of a physical shield to a mental one, forgetting about the physical world around me, detaching myself from my body and focusing only on what was in my head.

Still nothing.

The problem was that it just didn't feel like there was anything to feel. And maybe that was it—maybe what protected my mind wasn't a shield at all, or anything like a shield, but just something different inside my head. Just like the analogy of the radio frequencies Edythe had used so long ago—maybe all the vampire gifts were on FM, and only those on AM could get through.

I wasn't going to be able to do it. Jules had been forced to experience the horror of being taken prisoner by vampires, and Edythe had been hurt by my lies, all for nothing. But then, I could have told Sulpicia from the beginning that it would turn out like this. I could have told her that, even as a vampire, I would turn out to be supernaturally useless.

I probably should have been afraid. Afraid of what all this would mean for us, everyone I cared about who was only protected by what Sulpicia hoped I could do. But as I thought about everything that had happened from the moment I had arrived at the cabin, that should have been where Edythe and I had had our honeymoon—the pointlessness of it all—I felt instead a pulse of anger. Pointless, every single bit of it.

And it was as that thought crossed my mind, I felt it.

Something seemed to be wrapped around my entire body like a cloak, an invisible membrane. Whatever it was it felt fragile, illusory—like the slightest movement would cause it to slip away. But it was there.

Elena must have seen the change in my expression.

"Do you feel something?" she asked, eagerly but softly, to keep from breaking my concentration.

Very carefully, I dipped my head a centimeter in response.

"Hold onto it," Elena urged in a low voice. "Memorize how it feels. Maintain your awareness of it. It is a part of you, as much as your arms, your legs—it is simply another limb to move at your will."

I didn't answer. I tried to follow her instructions, but even as she spoke I could already feel it slipping away, like formless mist through my fingers.

"Now," Elena murmured, "try to push it out from yourself. Extend it."

It seemed pointless to attempt—I could feel the membrane now, but it felt so delicate, like trying to manipulate a soap bubble. It felt like it might burst at the slightest touch.

However, I did as she said, and pushed—slowly, ever so slowly—out from where membrane seemed to cling against my skin. I felt it stretching out, like an elastic band. I could feel it, not only around myself, but around Tacita's hand I was touching. I kept pushing, inch by inch, further and further.

For just an instant, I was sure of it—my soap bubble was stretched out over Tacita, too.

Sulpicia let out a soft breath, like a sigh.

I felt a flicker of doubt—did I really have it around Tacita, or was I imagining it all? Was it all in my head?

My eyes opened, and just like that, I lost it. The bubble seemed to dissolve, and draw back in on myself in an instant. If it was there at all.

"Anything?" Elena asked, looking to Sulpicia. She didn't look particularly hopeful.

Sulpicia's expression was hard to read. However, when her gaze shifted to meet mine, her mouth stretched in a smile that was almost brilliant—the biggest, most real smile I had seen from her yet.

"For just a moment," she said softly, though an undercurrent of excitement burned beneath the surface. "For a moment, Tacita's mind was silent. That proves it, then."

I don't know exactly what it was—being useful to Sulpicia was a good thing, if we wanted to make it out of this alive. But something in her expression unnerved me more than any anger or disappointment.

"Again then," Elena said. Her eyes were wide with some surprise, but a hint of a relieved smile crossed her lips.

"Wait," I said. I felt like I needed to be honest. "I felt—something. But I don't know how much further I'll be able to take it than that. Whatever it was, it didn't feel... solid. I couldn't keep a grip on it."

"You will learn," Sulpicia said smoothly, with certainty. "It is always difficult at first. You will find the limits eventually, but I do not think you are there yet. Not nearly there. Now, I want you to try this a few more times, and then we will take a break. Carlos will likely be back soon." Her hand was still on Tacita's wrist.

There didn't seem much point arguing, so I just closed my eyes and tried again.

I didn't make much progress. It felt like trying to walk a tightrope, back when I couldn't even walk across a flat, unobstructed surface without tripping, and I couldn't seem to maintain the necessary balance for more than a few seconds at a time.

I knew I could no longer get exhausted physically, but by the time Carlos arrived, I felt like I should be on the ground, panting. The exercise taxed my mind to the limit.

Carlos had found me a large bear, one with grayish-silver fur that I didn't think looked like a grizzly. He dropped it in front of me, then retreated back.

"Thank you, Carlos," said Sulpicia. "You may go. Send regards to the rest of your family. If all goes well, you will see your mate and your brother again before too long."

Carlos hesitated a moment. Then, glancing apprehensively at Elena, he nodded once, and with a slight respectful dip of his head turned and departed through the trees.

Elena had gone to rejoin Kirill. Sulpicia, Tacita, Brenden, and the kid Renatus also went to stand just on the edge of the trees, away from me and my meal. I didn't know whether they were afraid watching me eat would flare up their own appetites, or if they were just trying to give me some space.

Jules, however, who had been sprawled out on the ground watching me make an idiot of myself during my so-called training, immediately got to her feet and came right over.

I wished she wouldn't. I didn't have to have watched myself in a mirror to know what I looked like when I fed.

"...What?" I said, a little more aggressively than I meant.

Ignoring me, she dropped back to the ground several meters away, sitting with her legs crossed, facing me. Resting her head on her hands, she leaned forward and fixed her eyes on me with avid interest, like I was a fascinating show about to start.

"What?" I said again, scowling. This time the aggression was on purpose.

She waved a hand dismissively. "Don't mind me. Pretend I'm not even here."

"Don't you think it's rude to stare at someone when they're trying to eat?" I said.

She shrugged dismissively. "Sorry. I'm not really up on my bloodsucker etiquette. Anyway, can you really afford to be self-conscious right now? Aren't you about seconds away from flying into a rabid frenzy?"

She was right, if I had been as thirsty as a human as I was now, I'd be delirious, my tongue swollen to twice its size. The inferno in my throat ravaged my entire body, and only through immortal strength was I still able to function. Even so, I managed to glower at her.

"Are you—really going to sit there and watch?"

"Sure am."

"You might start throwing up."

She shrugged again. "I haven't eaten anything in days. I doubt I have anything to throw up."

I frowned, worried at that no matter how glibly she said it. However, I shook my head.

"You could close your eyes," I offered at last. I was only too aware of things as they stood—I was different from before, but so far I had to seem not all that different. Watching me eat as a bloodsucker would probably shatter that illusion.

She rolled her eyes. "I could," she acknowledged, "but I won't." She leaned back on her hands, gaze never moving from my face. She added casually, "I've got to see Beau the killing machine in action. The fight with the two blondies wasn't bad, but kind of short."

I stared back at her a long moment, wanting to argue further, but knowing there wasn't much point. At last, I slowly turned my back.

"You know," Jules said unexpectedly, "you always act like you don't know me at all. Like I'd rather stick my head in the sand than know what's going on—or admit that things have changed and they aren't ever going back. But, I know why you think like that, and I guess I can forgive you."

"I told you who I was, didn't I?" I asked without turning.

"Yeah, you did," she admitted. "Thanks."

My fingers tightened into fists. My throat felt oddly tight, that for once had nothing to do with my raging thirst. Things had gotten complicated between Jules and me not so very long ago, even if it felt like an eternity now. As Jules had once said, if I hadn't met and fallen for Edythe, she would have undoubtedly been my path.

I didn't know whether it was in having married Edythe, or in changing into a vampire, but the feelings I'd come to understand so abruptly back then were gone now. That path had irreversibly closed. Even so—she was a friend who I had trouble imagining the future without, as I had trouble imagining the future without Archie, or Carine, or any of the other Cullens who had become my family. I knew I would have had no right to ask that she keep treating me the same as she always had, now given what I had become. But here she was, still my best friend who knew me as well as anyone. And I was more glad for it than I could have ever thought.

The blood had already cooled slightly, and I knew it would have already begun to thicken. Even though the carnivore blood smelled better than the herbivore I'd had before, it didn't smell particularly appetizing.

But I was beyond caring. Now that I had let my mind turn fully to the thirst, had the chance to possibly quench it for the moment, it blocked out all else. It was the torture of my transformation all over again, a burning pain beyond all else. I didn't care what the blood tasted like—I just wanted it.

I bent my head to the kill.

It wasn't until I was finished that reason returned to me. My throat still burned with thirst, but the blood of the bear took a bit of the edge off. For a little while, I wouldn't have to work quite so hard to focus on other things.

As I came back to myself, I also remembered Jules, watching me. For a moment I remained as I was, with my back to her, paralyzed at the thought she might have changed her mind. That she would write me off as a monster after all, consider the Beau she had known dead, just as she had once promised she would so long ago.

However, I knew I couldn't just stay like this forever—Sulpicia would be looking to resume my training any moment. So at last I forced myself to turn.

Jules was sitting in about the same position as before, her expression unchanged, except for a slight wrinkling of her nose.

"Ugh," she said. "For all those sparkling good looks, you bloodsuckers are not pretty when you eat."

I felt myself relax slightly. "I told you you could close your eyes."

"Maybe next time I will."

I studied Jules's face, the circles under her eyes, and the hollows in her cheeks. I remembered what she had said about not eating.

I glanced back at the carcass, not sure if I should make the suggestion. "Um," I began. "You know, if you're hungry..."

Jules knew what I was about to say and she grimaced. "If I was, I think I lost my appetite." She added, "We eat a lot, but we can go a long time without too. It's a wolf thing. Plus since I can't go wolf I'd have to cook it first, and I doubt her majesty is going to sit around waiting for the dog to get its meal."

"Jules—" I began, unable to keep the slightly disapproving, almost parental tone from my voice. "You'll have to eat something eventually. We could be out here for weeks—months."

Jules rolled her eyes. She opened her mouth to respond, but another voice spoke first.

"Not that long, I'm afraid. We are, unfortunately, quite pressed for time."

We both turned as Sulpicia and Tacita approached.

"Now that you are sated," Sulpicia said, "or as sated as you can be, given how new you are, I think we ought to continue."

I hesitated, then nodded curtly once. Stepping forward, I raised an unwilling hand toward Tacita.

Sulpicia shook her head. "No," she said softly. "This time we will try something different. Now that you have made a breakthrough, I think the best way to achieve quick results is to provide you with more...incentive."

Her eyes shifted toward Jules. Without looking away, she said softly, "Kirill?"

Kirill stepped forward, and his gaze followed Sulpicia's.

It took less than a second for me to understand what Sulpicia was planning.

Horror and anger tore as one in my chest, and I spun on Kirill, but before I could so much as touch him, Tacita was on me, pinning both arms behind my back, catching my head in a chokehold. Cato was immediately there beside her, adding muscle to where Tacita held my arms.

I struggled against them for a minute, but though I was probably far stronger than either one alone, no matter how desperately I twisted I couldn't overcome them both. Meanwhile, Sulpicia watched me serenely.

I realized this wasn't doing any good, and changed tactics. "Do you really think I'll help you if you—"

"You should be aware by now that we are all on the same side," Sulpicia said gently. "You must learn to use this power to its fullest extent. Normally that would come with long practice over the course of months, years—but we do not have the time. The use of a gift under duress has proven effective in the past to dramatically shorten the learning curve."

She added, "Of course it may be unpleasant—but you have my assurance that it is a worthwhile sacrifice. And, if successful, your friend will have helped save our world."

I could only stare back at her. I had frozen where I was. Something sharp and cold seemed to be stabbing at my skin, a thousand knives cutting at the bones in my fingers, rising up my arms and sinking down into my cold, still chest. A cold numbness was spreading through me, I couldn't seem to think.

I realized now how complacent I had gotten. I'd known Jules and I weren't safe here, with these people, but somehow I'd convinced myself that I could keep us all right through the fact Sulpicia needed my power. Now I saw how completely wrong I had been.

"You can't," I whispered, my voice more pleading now than demanding. "Just—give me a chance first. Leave her out of it."

Sulpicia's expression was apologetic. "This is the best way." She nodded at Kirill.

I didn't hesitate, I twisted my shoulders with all my might. The suddenness and force of the motion pushed Cato and Tacita back for a moment, and my eyes fell on Kirill, just a few meters away now—then Tacita kicked my legs out from under me, and shoved my head hard to the stone. Cato held my arms with both hands. I struggled, hard, but I couldn't move.

From the odd angle of my head, I could only watch out of the very edge of my vision as Kirill approached Jules, and knelt down beside her.

Jules eyed him for a long moment. She had seen the battle, and the way Kirill had downed Cato with just a touch. "Why do I suddenly get the feeling," she began, "that I'm about to think your buddy's brand of payback would have been a lot nicer than whatever you're about to do?"

"Kirill," I said, forcing my jaw to work even pressed against the ground, in final desperation. "You owe me."

Kirill turned his eyes away from Jules to look at me. And I could see it in his face—much as he hated Jules, probably wanted to rip her to pieces as Ivan had, he didn't want this. He was relieved and grateful I'd been able to save his brother, just as Elena was, and Tanvir and Carlos. And in spite of his power, he wasn't a sadist when it came to using it as Jonathan was.

Even so, his eyes dropped away from mine and he looked away—in something very much like shame.

"It won't cause any permanent harm," he said gruffly, glancing at Jules uncomfortably before looking away again. "It will feel like an electric shock—but it's only in the mind."

"Wow," Jules drawled. "That makes me feel so much better."

Tacita and Cato hauled me to my feet, and dragged me forward. At last, they forced me to my knees beside where Jules still lay.

Jules's eyes had narrowed, her mouth pressed in a brittle line with tension, yet she made no move to try to get away. Whether that was because she knew there was no escape surrounded by vampires, or out of some twisted sense wolf pride, I didn't know.

"Put your hand on her," Tacita commanded coldly.

I clenched my hands into fists, straining back, trying to force myself as far from Jules as I could.

Quick as lightning, Tacita seized one of my arms, and with Cato reinforcing, they pressed my hand forward, until my white knuckles came to rest against her bare wrist. Reluctantly, my hand opened, afraid I might leave a bruise, and after a second I closed my fingers gingerly around it.

"So," Jules said, almost conversationally, "electric shock. How many volts we talking about here?"

"Kirill controls the strength, or voltage you might say," Sulpicia answered. "As Kirill has already said, it may be uncomfortable, but it will leave you with no lasting injury."

Jules nodded thoughtfully. "It's official. You are the most sick, twisted bloodsucker I've ever met. But that's okay. When you let blondie go I was worried you were going soft, and I'd feel bad when the second I got free I clawed your eyes out and ripped you to shreds. Zero guilt now, thanks."

I stared down at Jules. I had never felt Kirill's power myself—yet I had seen it instantly incapacitate Cato, and I knew exactly how much pain it would take to take an immortal out of action. Especially one so professional and dedicated as one of Sulpicia's guard. A dark memory rose to the surface of my mind—Edythe, stricken on the stone ground of an ancient chamber, her beautiful face contorted with agony.

Something seemed to rise in my throat, a wild panic. I couldn't let this happen. I had to stop it—yet with my hazy power that felt more like wisps of smoke than anything I could control, I didn't know how.

"Concentrate, Beau," Sulpicia urged softly. "Kirill, you may begin at any time. Keep to low levels—at first, at least."

Some of the color seemed to have left Jules's face, but still she somehow managed to sneer. "Right. Blondie number two here doesn't like me anymore than his buddy with the man-eating GF. He's not holding back, you've just made his day."

Kirill didn't meet my eyes. He didn't want to do this, after I'd helped his brother, and he didn't enjoy using his power for something like this as Jonathan would have. But he wasn't going to risk defying Sulpicia again.

I opened my mouth—whether for one last plea or to shout a curse, even I didn't know—and it was at that moment Kirill reached down and touched Jules's arm with a single finger.

A sharp gasp escaped Jules's mouth, and I felt her spasm in my grip. Once, twice—then she lay still, panting.

"Wait—" I began, my words almost blurring together as I rushed to get them out. "Wait, I'm not—I still need—"

"There is no more time," Sulpicia answered, almost gently. "Again, Kirill."

"That all you got," Jules managed to say between breaths. "I've had paper cuts worse than—"

Kirill's power hit her again, and she jerked like a marionette on its strings. She gritted her teeth against the pain, refusing to cry out.

A shout escaped my throat, and I coiled my legs, every instinct screaming at me to spring at him, to throw him back. However, Tacita and Cato only redoubled their grips. Tacita was on her feet now, her knee in my back.

"Use your power," she ordered harshly.

Once again Jules lay still, gasping as though she had run a marathon.

"N-Nothing," she said between breaths. "That's nothing." However, her normally russet skin was chalky pale, and her body continued to twitch and spasm.

"Again," Sulpicia said gently. "A little stronger this time."

Jules jerked, and a shout escaped her before she clenched her teeth, clamping down on the sound. She convulsed where she lay, and Kirill had to wrap his fingers around her arm to maintain contact.

My own grip on her tightened, as though that could somehow make it stop.

Concentrate—concentrate. I closed my eyes and clenched my teeth, trying to feel the delicate membrane that surrounded me. I worked to stretch it—but before it could reach her, I felt it recoil like elastic and a shout of frustration escaped me.

Once again Jules stopped shaking and she lay, gasping. Beads of sweat rolled down her face. Her cockiness was gone. Instead her eyes were wild, her lips curled into a snarl.

"Try—try it again," she hissed, but her eyes were wide.

"Again," Sulpicia said. "Stronger."

"No!" I said through my teeth, and I tried once again to strike out and knock Kirill's hand away, but once again Tacita and Cato held me in place. Jules jerked again. Her arms and legs thrashed out, and I felt her muscles tense under my grip, fighting to rip free.

"Harder, Kirill," Sulpicia murmured softly.

Jules went rigid, then her back arched. A scream tore from her mouth for the first time, a single, unbroken note, that seemed to echo off the trees and rock.

I struggled against Tacita and Cato with everything I was, twisting and striking at the air like a rabid animal, but even as I felt the drive of my horror push my newborn strength to new levels, they both seemed to move in eery, perfect synchronization, countering each movement with the exact right amount of pressure at the right angle to keep me from budging from where I knelt.

"Stop it!" I shouted, and my voice was high with panic. "Stop it, please! I—I need time to think. I need to get ready—"

"No, Beau," said Sulpicia, and for the first time there was a hardness beneath the soft words. "The time for preparation is over. This is the only way you will learn quickly. With sufficient motivation. The longer you fail to gather your thoughts, to use the power, the longer she will suffer. Know that, and do what you must."

"I—I can't," I gasped, almost pleading. "I can't do it. Please—stop it!"

I could feel myself shaking, and I gripped Jules's arm until I was sure I would leave a bruise. Here I was, immortal—supernaturally strong, with a brain like lightning, with sharp eyes like lasers. And I did not think I had ever felt more helpless.

"One more level, Kirill," Sulpicia said quietly.

Kirill's mouth twisted, his shoulders rigid. However, he didn't look at me as he closed his eyes obediently.

Jules's screams reached a new pitch, inhuman—like the yowls of a tortured animal.

Panic seized me like a vice. As I looked into her face, twisted and white with agony, her eyes rolled back in her head, I felt as though it were myself I was looking at there on the ground, as though this was my pain every bit as much as hers.

I tried to muster another membrane shield, but it only pulled a few inches out from me before it broke, like water from a shattered glass. I couldn't. I couldn't do anything.

For the first time, I wrenched my gaze away from Jules to look at Sulpicia.

"Please," I whispered. "Please—" I grasped at anything. "I can do it. I'll learn it. Just—just I can't think like this. Please—"

"Maybe," Elena said softly, hesitantly, from where she stood a little ways back. "Maybe he's right. Maybe we should try a different method."

"No," said Sulpicia, and for once, her voice was no longer soft and gentle. She stared back at me with misty dark eyes that were flat, unyielding, and in that moment I saw the darkness of a millennia's worth of ruthlessness and terrible acts in their depths. "No, there is no time. You will learn—allowing your emotions to control you, make you impotent, is helping no one. We will stay here however many hours or days necessary. It will not stop until you make it stop—so you may choose to focus your energy productively, or we can stay here until she is tortured into insanity. The pain, as we said, will not hurt her physically—but over a prolonged enough period, I can't make the same guarantee for her mind. You can do what is necessary to save her—or you can choose not to try. But that will not be our doing—you will have only your own weakness to blame."

I stared back at Sulpicia, Jules's screams echoing in my head, seeming to rend the air around me.

A hatred unlike anything I had ever felt—not for Joss, not for Victor, not even for myself when I had betrayed the two people I cared about most—rose like a blazing inferno in my chest, searing up my throat. As I looked into her ancient, cold, hard eyes, I felt like I was really seeing her for the first time, the one who had ruled over vampires for centuries, in her long cloak as black as death. I didn't care what her reasons were, or why she thought she was doing this. She was evil. More evil than any of the monsters I had ever met.

As the black rage tore through me, as fast and all-consuming as an explosion, I felt it once again—the membrane around my body. Only now it didn't feel like so much like a membrane as a piece of malleable rubber, no longer delicate or liable to break.

With a surge of mental strength, I pushed it out from myself in all directions—too far. The bubble enveloped Kirill and Tacita too, and Jules continued to scream. I seized hold of the bubble once again, reining it back in. I felt the bubble twist at my command, and I let it descend on Jules, wrapping around her—it formed a perfect shell, clinging to her skin.

Jules's thrashing limbs slowed, then fell limp. She lay on the ground, once again panting for breath. Her throat sounded raw and hoarse, like a sputtering car engine.

Kirill's eyes had opened, and they were wide. For a moment, Tacita, too, reacted in surprise. Only for a fraction of a second did her grip slacken—but a second was all I needed.

With a roar I tore myself free, and I punched Kirill in the chest with enough force to crumple an armored car. He flew back twenty feet, only just righting himself as his back struck stone. I spun on Tacita and Cato next, but they were too quick for me. However, rather than seize me again, Tacita merely jumped back out of range, Cato instantly following her lead. Tacita watched me carefully, her expression inscrutable.

I was on my feet in less than a second, standing over Jules. I was no longer in contact with her, but still I could feel the protective shield encircling her, keeping her safe from any of the others' powers. I was breathing heavily, my lips curled back from my teeth, my eyes wide and wild. I bent forward, ready for an attack.

"Tacita?" Sulpicia asked softly. Her eyes never moved from me.

"I...can't sense her," Tacita said slowly. "She's invisible—just like the boy."

Sulpicia surveyed me carefully. "And now?" she said after a moment.

"Still nothing," Tacita reported, voice low.

Sulpicia's answering smile was wide. "Excellent," she murmured.

I growled, deep in my chest. Jules and I had to get out of here, right now. Whatever this power was, it wasn't going to be helping Sulpicia.

My eyes darted around the clearing, trying to weigh my options. If I picked up Jules, how many seconds would it take to reach the trees? Where could we go that they couldn't follow?

Sanity slowly return to me, and I gritted my teeth, my shoulders dropping an inch. Of course neither Elena nor Kirill would help us fend off Sulpicia or her people, I was sure of that, and as I saw Tacita raise her arms, hands flat like spades in readiness for a fight, I knew I wouldn't be getting past her. Brenden too was watching us, and he raised a hand, his face a mask of concentration, ready to use his power if necessary.

This power didn't change our situation. We were still every bit as trapped as we had been from the beginning. Only all the more so now—now that I knew exactly how far Sulpicia was willing to go to get what she wanted.

However, still I remained crouched over Jules, ready to fight anyone who tried to come near.

"I think that will do for now," Sulpicia said, unaffected by the ferocious glare I was still orienting her way. "Fortunately I don't think such measures will be necessary again. You have broken through an important barrier, and now will just be experimentation with finding the limits of the gift, and stabilizing it through practice and repetition."

The hard lines of my face didn't relax. I didn't trust that in the slightest—she would use any tactics she wanted to in order to get the results she was after. But even if I did trust that, what was done was already done. These minutes that had felt like centuries would be burned into my memory forever.

"Take a few minutes to collect yourself," said Sulpicia. "Then we will convene again to go over a few logistics—now that your power seems to have fully manifested itself, it's only fair you are made aware of some of the details of just why we are in such a hurry."

At last I allowed my eyes to drop, but my expression didn't change.

Elena started toward Sulpicia, giving me a carefully wide berth, though not before sending a glance my way full of regret and apology. She murmured something to Sulpicia, but I didn't bother to listen for her reply.

Instead, I slowly sank down to my knees, directing my gaze in front of me.

Jules was lying on her back, staring up at the sky. Her normally deep russet skin was a chalky gray, with glistening beads of sweat forming a film over her temple and forehead.

"Regular Mother Teresa, isn't she?" she managed between short breaths.

I didn't know whether I wanted to laugh or cry. "Jules," I began. "Jules, I'm so—"

"Hope you aren't about to say sorry," she interrupted, still breathless. "Because—you really shouldn't apologize on behalf of psychos."

I shook my head. "If it weren't for me," I whispered, "you wouldn't be here."

"If it weren't for me, you wouldn't be here either," she pointed out. Her breath was coming back to her now, though her voice was still hoarse. "I'd say we're even."

She sighed deeply, and slumped against the hard rockface. She stared up at the sky.

After a long moment, she said unexpectedly, "You know, I used to imagine what I'd do. If I were captured and tortured by bloodsuckers, I mean."

In spite of everything, I felt myself frown slightly at this. "Why on earth would you imagine something like that?"

She shrugged, nonchalant. "Part of being a wolf in a pack, I guess. Always wanting to prove how tough you are." She sighed again. "Course, I was always picturing them trying to get some kind of important information out of me. Not being used as a hostage to play sick games with my best friend."

I hesitated, then reached out to briefly touch her shoulder. Her skin blazed against mine, uncomfortable, but I held my hand there anyway. "Well, you were still brave," I said. "And tough. Tougher than I would have been."

She closed her eyes. "I almost wish they would kill me by accident—then they couldn't control you anymore."

The thought sent a shudder rippling through my frame. Much as I might hate the Volturi and being under Sulpicia's thumb, that would be the worst outcome by far. I was an immortal now, but that didn't mean I'd be able to protect the people I cared about.

I considered my reply, but before I'd decided I heard the rustle of approaching cloaks behind me, a moment before a voice spoke.

"Beau."

I stiffened slightly, then reluctantly turned. My expression could have been carved in granite.

Sulpicia had seated herself on an old stump just on the edge of the treeline, her back as straight and regal as if she were on her throne back in her palace. Tacita and Cato flanked her on either side, and Renatus crouched at her feet like a favored dog.

"Let us talk a moment—I think you deserve to know some of the strategic details of the position we are in, and why we are in such a hurry. Then you may resume your exercises."

I couldn't help but notice Kirill had not returned to stand with Elena, who was now standing beside Sulpicia, but instead had moved some distance away, to move restlessly between the trees beyond. I wondered if he was intentionally trying to keep his distance from me in case I tried to attack him again. I knew I couldn't blame him for having obeyed Sulpicia's instructions, but it was probably for the best; I still didn't feel fully rational. Images of Jules convulsing on the ground kept playing in my memory, leaving hot bursts of fury to erupt on my skin, rising up my throat.

Of course I, too, was going to have to do whatever Sulpicia and the Volturi wanted. I'd never forgive what had been done here—Jules and I were surrounded by enemies, and I wouldn't let myself forget it. One enemy, who hid behind a genteel smile and polite words, the worst of them all.

Sulpicia would probably never have to reckon for the things she had done in centuries past, or today. She was too powerful for that. I recalled Edythe's tension back in the throne room, how she had seemed more wary of Sulpicia than anyone else. Edythe had been right—of course she had.

At thoughts of Edythe, my empty chest ached. I wondered if she really had figured out the truth, or some form of it. I hoped Archie was keeping her sane. If I couldn't be there to support her, at least the rest of our family would be.

I fingered my bare ring finger.

Wherever you are, Edythe, I thought, be safe.