Be Careful What You Wish For

Chapter Nineteen

1 The fact that Irina was being dragged to Volterra instead of being dismembered and burned on the spot was solely Demetri's accomplishment. He'd risked his own safety even more than he already had by pointing out to Caius that she had chosen to not do anything to actively help the dhampir, that she had even managed to help Leah contact Demetri. The direct result of this had been the acquisition of Jasper and Bella, as well as the death of several Cullens. Demetri's point had been that maybe there was hope of recovery for Irina, who had only been marginally exposed to Renesmee and had been able to at least passively assist those who wished her dead or captured.

Luckily, this had been enough to buy Irina some time...and a free trip to Italy! Woo! Everyone celebrate. She didn't hold out much hope that any of this would last, of course, but at least she'd get to die in Europe. It wasn't Slovakia, and it sure as hell wasn't eleventh-century Kremnica (oh, the memory of Lyubomir walking across the meadow toward her, smiling, sunshine in his light-brown hair), but it was at least the right continent. She regretted the fact that she'd left her sisters behind without a word of goodbye, but that couldn't be helped. Whatever would happen, would happen. At least she'd gotten some kind of revenge for Laurent. That was better than nothing. No need to whine and bemoan her fate now. No, there was no need for anything quite that pathetic. She'd made her bed. Everything that had happened during the past few months had been her own decision, and the consequences were her own fault. So, there was no reason to mope, really, because she had no-one to blame but herself.

She'd wished for revenge and for the downfall of the Cullen coven, and that was exactly what she'd gotten. Funny how even when wishes came true, it was never quite the way one imagined it. There was always a catch, always an unpleasant consequence couldn't have been foreseen. Maybe her wish just hadn't been specific enough. She told herself that she'd be more careful next time.

She didn't really talk much to Chelsea during the trip, even though Chelsea tried a few times to engage her in light-hearted conversation. The whole thing felt like a dream, which reminded Irina of those precious few minutes during which she'd been unconscious, courtesy of Jasper, the psychopathic little bastard. Those had, hands down, been the best few minutes of the past thousand years. Sleep. Actual sleep! The relief was unimaginable, unnameable. No wonder Caius wanted so much to collect Jasper, even though the extent of Jasper's power probably gave him some pause. Irina was pretty sure, however, that with so many exceedingly gifted vampires amongst the Volturi, it was possible to keep Jasper's egocentric and downright nasty shenanigans in check. They had Alec. They had Corin. They had Chelsea. There were others, too, that Irina didn't know about; of course there were. There had to be. No coven had ever been this powerful and intelligently led in all of vampire history. They were still here; all the others were long gone while the Volturi endured. Above anything else, that was to be admired.

The entire trip was unspectacular, as was the drive into Volterra and entering the ancient catacombs below the city that served as the Volturi stronghold. It was an impressive construction, huge and intricate like the world's most confusing labyrinth, impossible to storm, impossible to orient oneself in without extensive knowledge of the place or at least a good map. Chelsea led Irina through endless stone corridors and metal doors and huge stone staircases, down and up and down and left and right and wherever, until Irina had completely lost her way. Usually, she was not this easily disoriented. Maybe a vampire with such a power lived within these walls. Who knew? It wasn't as if they were going to tell her. Other than most of their kin, they were not stupid.

After they walked through yet another door – this time into something resembling an office – they were joined by two guards in snug, dark-grey suits. The room was quadrangular, well-lit, and decorated with a big, mahogany desk, tapestries, and lamps. It was cosy and not at all what Irina had expected.