The Twilight Saga Collection

by Stephenie Meyer

  The next was a small olive-toned female vampire with a long braid of black hair bobbing against her back. Her deep burgundy eyes flitted nervously around the confrontation before her.

  And the last was a young man… not quite as fast nor quite as fluid in his run. His skin was an impossible rich, dark brown. His wary eyes flashed across the gathering, and they were the color of warm teak. His hair was black and braided, too, like the woman’s, though not as long. He was beautiful.

  As he neared us, a new sound sent shock waves through the watching crowd—the sound of another heartbeat, accelerated with exertion.

  Alice leaped lightly over the edges of the dissipating mist that lapped at my shield and came to a sinuous stop at Edward’s side. I reached out to touch her arm, and so did Edward, Esme, Carlisle. There wasn’t time for any other welcome. Jasper and the others followed her through the shield.

  All the guard watched, speculation in their eyes, as the latecomers crossed the invisible border without difficulty. The brawny ones, Felix and the others like him, focused their suddenly hopeful eyes on me. They had not been sure of what my shield repelled, but it was clear now that it would not stop a physical attack. As soon as Aro gave the order, the blitz would ensue, me the only object. I wondered how many Zafrina would be able to blind, and how much that would slow them. Long enough for Kate and Vladimir to take Jane and Alec out of the equation? That was all I could ask for.

  Edward, despite his absorption in the coup he was directing, stiffened furiously in response to their thoughts. He controlled himself and spoke to Aro again.

  “Alice has been searching for her own witnesses these last weeks,” he said to the ancient. “And she does not come back empty-handed. Alice, why don’t you introduce the witnesses you’ve brought?”

  Caius snarled. “The time for witnesses is past! Cast your vote, Aro!”

  Aro raised one finger to silence his brother, his eyes glued to Alice’s face.

  Alice stepped forward lightly and introduced the strangers. “This is Huilen and her nephew, Nahuel.”

  Hearing her voice… it was like she’d never left.

  Caius’s eyes tightened as Alice named the relationship between the newcomers. The Volturi witnesses hissed amongst themselves. The vampire world was changing, and everyone could feel it.

  “Speak, Huilen,” Aro commanded. “Give us the witness you were brought to bear.”

  The slight woman looked to Alice nervously. Alice nodded in encouragement, and Kachiri put her long hand on the little vampire’s shoulder.

  “I am Huilen,” the woman announced in clear but strangely accented English. As she continued, it was apparent she had prepared herself to tell this story, that she had practiced. It flowed like a well-known nursery rhyme. “A century and a half ago, I lived with my people, the Mapuche. My sister was Pire. Our parents named her after the snow on the mountains because of her fair skin. And she was very beautiful—too beautiful. She came to me one day in secret and told me of the angel that found her in the woods, that visited her by night. I warned her.” Huilen shook her head mournfully. “As if the bruises on her skin were not warning enough. I knew it was the Libishomen of our legends, but she would not listen. She was bewitched.

  “She told me when she was sure her dark angel’s child was growing inside her. I didn’t try to discourage her from her plan to run away—I knew even our father and mother would agree that the child must be destroyed, Pire with it. I went with her into the deepest parts of the forest. She searched for her demon angel but found nothing. I cared for her, hunted for her when her strength failed. She ate the animals raw, drinking their blood. I needed no more confirmation of what she carried in her womb. I hoped to save her life before I killed the monster.

  “But she loved the child inside her. She called him Nahuel, after the jungle cat, when he grew strong and broke her bones—and loved him still.

  “I could not save her. The child ripped his way free of her, and she died quickly, begging all the while that I would care for her Nahuel. Her dying wish—and I agreed.

  “He bit me, though, when I tried to lift him from her body. I crawled away into the jungle to die. I didn’t get far—the pain was too much. But he found me; the newborn child struggled through the underbrush to my side and waited for me. When the pain ended, he was curled against my side, sleeping.

  “I cared for him until he was able to hunt for himself. We hunted the villages around our forest, staying to ourselves. We have never come so far from our home, but Nahuel wished to see the child here.”

  Huilen bowed her head when she was finished and moved back so she was partially hidden behind Kachiri.

  Aro’s lips were pursed. He stared at the dark-skinned youth.

  “Nahuel, you are one hundred and fifty years old?” he questioned.

  “Give or take a decade,” he answered in a clear, beautifully warm voice. His accent was barely noticeable. “We don’t keep track.”

  “And you reached maturity at what age?”

  “About seven years after my birth, more or less, I was full grown.”

  “You have not changed since then?”

  Nahuel shrugged. “Not that I’ve noticed.”

  I felt a shudder tremble through Jacob’s body. I didn’t want to think about this yet. I would wait till the danger was past and I could concentrate.

  “And your diet?” Aro pressed, seeming interested in spite of himself.

  “Mostly blood, but some human food, too. I can survive on either.”

  “You were able to create an immortal?” As Aro gestured to Huilen, his voice was abruptly intense. I refocused on my shield; perhaps he was seeking a new excuse.

  “Yes, but none of the rest can.”

  A shocked murmur ran through all three groups.

  Aro’s eyebrows shot up. “The rest?”

  “My sisters.” Nahuel shrugged again.

  Aro stared wildly for a moment before composing his face.

  “Perhaps you would tell us the rest of your story, for there seems to be more.”

  Nahuel frowned.

  “My father came looking for me a few years after my mother’s death.” His handsome face distorted slightly. “He was pleased to find me.” Nahuel’s tone suggested the feeling was not mutual. “He had two daughters, but no sons. He expected me to join him, as my sisters had.

  “He was surprised I was not alone. My sisters are not venomous, but whether that’s due to gender or a random chance… who knows? I already had my family with Huilen, and I was not interested”—he twisted the word—“in making a change. I see him from time to time. I have a new sister; she reached maturity about ten years back.”

  “Your father’s name?” Caius asked through gritted teeth.

  “Joham,” Nahuel answered. “He considers himself a scientist. He thinks he’s creating a new super-race.” He made no attempt to disguise the disgust in his tone.

  Caius looked at me. “Your daughter, is she venomous?” he demanded harshly.

  “No,” I responded. Nahuel’s head snapped up at Aro’s question, and his teak eyes turned to bore into my face.

  Caius looked to Aro for confirmation, but Aro was absorbed in his own thoughts. He pursed his lips and stared at Carlisle, and then Edward, and at last his eyes rested on me.

  Caius growled. “We take care of the aberration here, and then follow it south,” he urged Aro.

  Aro stared into my eyes for a long, tense moment. I had no idea what he was searching for, or what he found, but after he had measured me for that moment, something in his face changed, a faint shift in the set of his mouth and eyes, and I knew that Aro had made his decision.

  “Brother,” he said softly to Caius. “There appears to be no danger. This is an unusual development, but I see no threat. These half-vampire children are much like us, it appears.”

  “Is that your vote?” Caius demanded.

  “It is.”

  Caius scowled. “And this Joham? This immortal
so fond of experimentation?”

  “Perhaps we should speak with him,” Aro agreed.

  “Stop Joham if you will,” Nahuel said flatly. “But leave my sisters be. They are innocent.”

  Aro nodded, his expression solemn. And then he turned back to his guard with a warm smile.

  “Dear ones,” he called. “We do not fight today.”

  The guard nodded in unison and straightened out of their ready positions. The mist dissipated swiftly, but I held my shield in place. Maybe this was another trick.

  I analyzed their expressions as Aro turned back to us. His face was as benign as ever, but unlike before, I sensed a strange blankness behind the façade. As if his scheming was over. Caius was clearly incensed, but his rage was turned inward now; he was resigned. Marcus looked… bored; there really was no other word for it. The guard was impassive and disciplined again; there were no individuals among them, just the whole. They were in formation, ready to depart. The Volturi witnesses were still wary; one after another, they departed, scattering into the woods. As their numbers dwindled, the remaining sped up. Soon they were all gone.

  Aro held his hands out to us, almost apologetic. Behind him, the larger part of the guard, along with Caius, Marcus, and the silent, mysterious wives, were already drifting quickly away, their formation precise once again. Only the three that seemed to be his personal guardians lingered with him.

  “I’m so glad this could be resolved without violence,” he said sweetly. “My friend, Carlisle—how pleased I am to call you friend again! I hope there are no hard feelings. I know you understand the strict burden that our duty places on our shoulders.”

  “Leave in peace, Aro,” Carlisle said stiffly. “Please remember that we still have our anonymity to protect here, and keep your guard from hunting in this region.”

  “Of course, Carlisle,” Aro assured him. “I am sorry to earn your disapproval, my dear friend. Perhaps, in time, you will forgive me.”

  “Perhaps, in time, if you prove a friend to us again.”

  Aro bowed his head, the picture of remorse, and drifted backward for a moment before he turned around. We watched in silence as the last four Volturi disappeared into the trees.

  It was very quiet. I did not drop my shield.

  “Is it really over?” I whispered to Edward.

  His smile was huge. “Yes. They’ve given up. Like all bullies, they’re cowards underneath the swagger.” He chuckled.

  Alice laughed with him. “Seriously, people. They’re not coming back. Everybody can relax now.”

  There was another beat of silence.

  “Of all the rotten luck,” Stefan muttered.

  And then it hit.

  Cheers erupted. Deafening howls filled the clearing. Maggie pounded Siobhan on the back. Rosalie and Emmett kissed again—longer and more ardently than before. Benjamin and Tia were locked in each other’s arms, as were Carmen and Eleazar. Esme held Alice and Jasper in a tight embrace. Carlisle was warmly thanking the South American newcomers who had saved us all. Kachiri stood very close to Zafrina and Senna, their fingertips interlocked. Garrett picked Kate up off the ground and swung her around in a circle.

  Stefan spit on the snow. Vladimir ground his teeth together with a sour expression.

  And I half-climbed the giant russet wolf to rip my daughter off his back and then crushed her to my chest. Edward’s arms were around us in the same second.

  “Nessie, Nessie, Nessie,” I crooned.

  Jacob laughed his big, barky laugh and poked the back of my head with his nose.

  “Shut up,” I mumbled.

  “I get to stay with you?” Nessie demanded.

  “Forever,” I promised her.

  We had forever. And Nessie was going to be fine and healthy and strong. Like the half-human Nahuel, in a hundred and fifty years she would still be young. And we would all be together.

  Happiness expanded like an explosion inside me—so extreme, so violent that I wasn’t sure I’d survive it.

  “Forever,” Edward echoed in my ear.

  I couldn’t speak anymore. I lifted my head and kissed him with a passion that might possibly set the forest on fire.

  I wouldn’t have noticed.

  39. THE HAPPILY EVER AFTER

  “So it was a combination of things there at the end, but what it really boiled down to was… Bella,” Edward was explaining. Our family and our two remaining guests sat in the Cullens’ great room while the forest turned black outside the tall windows.

  Vladimir and Stefan had vanished before we’d stopped celebrating. They were extremely disappointed in the way things had turned out, but Edward said that they’d enjoyed the Volturi’s cowardice almost enough to make up for their frustration.

  Benjamin and Tia were quick to follow after Amun and Kebi, anxious to let them know the outcome of the conflict; I was sure we would see them again—Benjamin and Tia, at least. None of the nomads lingered. Peter and Charlotte had a short conversation with Jasper, and then they were gone, too.

  The reunited Amazons had been anxious to return home as well—they had a difficult time being away from their beloved rain forest—though they were more reluctant to leave than some of the others.

  “You must bring the child to see me,” Zafrina had insisted. “Promise me, young one.”

  Nessie had pressed her hand to my neck, pleading as well.

  “Of course, Zafrina,” I’d agreed.

  “We shall be great friends, my Nessie,” the wild woman had declared before leaving with her sisters.

  The Irish coven continued the exodus.

  “Well done, Siobhan,” Carlisle complimented her as they said goodbye.

  “Ah, the power of wishful thinking,” she answered sarcastically, rolling her eyes. And then she was serious. “Of course, this isn’t over. The Volturi won’t forgive what happened here.”

  Edward was the one to answer that. “They’ve been seriously shaken; their confidence is shattered. But, yes, I’m sure they’ll recover from the blow someday. And then . . .” His eyes tightened. “I imagine they’ll try to pick us off separately.”

  “Alice will warn us when they intend to strike,” Siobhan said in a sure voice. “And we’ll gather again. Perhaps the time will come when our world is ready to be free of the Volturi altogether.”

  “That time may come,” Carlisle replied. “If it does, we’ll stand together.”

  “Yes, my friend, we will,” Siobhan agreed. “And how can we fail, when I will it otherwise?” She let out a great peal of laughter.

  “Exactly,” Carlisle said. He and Siobhan embraced, and then he shook Liam’s hand. “Try to find Alistair and tell him what happened. I’d hate to think of him hiding under a rock for the next decade.”

  Siobhan laughed again. Maggie hugged both Nessie and me, and then the Irish coven was gone.

  The Denalis were the last to leave, Garrett with them—as he would be from now on, I was fairly sure. The atmosphere of celebration was too much for Tanya and Kate. They needed time to grieve for their lost sister.

  Huilen and Nahuel were the ones who stayed, though I had expected those last two to go back with the Amazons. Carlisle was deep in fascinated conversation with Huilen; Nahuel sat close beside her, listening while Edward told the rest of us the story of the conflict as only he knew it.

  “Alice gave Aro the excuse he needed to get out of the fight. If he hadn’t been so terrified of Bella, he probably would have gone ahead with their original plan.”

  “Terrified?” I said skeptically. “Of me?”

  He smiled at me with a look I didn’t entirely recognize—it was tender, but also awed and even exasperated. “When will you ever see yourself clearly?” he said softly. Then he spoke louder, to the others as well as to me. “The Volturi haven’t fought a fair fight in about twenty-five hundred years. And they’ve never, never fought one where they were at a disadvantage. Especially since they gained Jane and Alec, they’ve only been involved with unopposed slaugh
terings.

  “You should have seen how we looked to them! Usually, Alec cuts off all sense and feeling from their victims while they go through the charade of a counsel. That way, no one can run when the verdict is given. But there we stood, ready, waiting, outnumbering them, with gifts of our own while their gifts were rendered useless by Bella. Aro knew that with Zafrina on our side, they would be the blind ones when the battle commenced. I’m sure our numbers would have been pretty severely decimated, but they were sure that theirs would be, too. There was even a good possibility that they would lose. They’ve never dealt with that possibility before. They didn’t deal with it well today.”

  “Hard to feel confident when you’re surrounded by horse-sized wolves,” Emmett laughed, poking Jacob’s arm.

  Jacob flashed a grin at him.

  “It was the wolves that stopped them in the first place,” I said.

  “Sure was,” Jacob agreed.

  “Absolutely,” Edward agreed. “That was another sight they’ve never seen. The true Children of the Moon rarely move in packs, and they are never much in control of themselves. Sixteen enormous regimented wolves was a surprise they weren’t prepared for. Caius is actually terrified of werewolves. He almost lost a fight with one a few thousand years ago and never got over it.”

  “So there are real werewolves?” I asked. “With the full moon and silver bullets and all that?”

  Jacob snorted. “Real. Does that make me imaginary?”

  “You know what I mean.”

  “Full moon, yes,” Edward said. “Silver bullets, no—that was just another one of those myths to make humans feel like they had a sporting chance. There aren’t very many of them left. Caius has had them hunted into near extinction.”

  “And you never mentioned this because… ?”

  “It never came up.”

  I rolled my eyes, and Alice laughed, leaning forward—she was tucked under Edward’s other arm—to wink at me.

  I glared back.

  I loved her insanely, of course. But now that I’d had a chance to realize that she was really home, that her defection was only a ruse because Edward had to believe that she’d abandoned us, I was beginning to feel pretty irritated with her. Alice had some explaining to do.