Alissa Swan

Part 80

I, in a yellow hardtop porsche with darkly tinted windows screeched to a halt in front of Alissa. The passenger door opened. I pulled off the chic, white, hooded coat I used for protection against the sun.

Alissa climbed in and buckled up. "Where'd you get the car?"

"Hope you're not opposed to grand theft auto," I pulled out.

"Not today."

The porsche screamed down a highway, cutting lanes, weaving through Peugots and Fiats.

Bella grabbed the dashboard as I narrowly missed a car. "How much time do we have?"

"He's waiting till noon, when the sun's at its highest." That's right. Noon. We didn't have a lot of time.

Edward stood in shadow, his shirt open, eyes shut. A clock gonged as he stepped into the sunlight.

"He's going to make the Volturi change their minds," I said after I had the vision.

Alissa looked at her watch. "It's almost noon now."

"There's Volterra," I said.

We saw a medieval fortified village was atop a distant hill. Volterra. We arrived at the top of the hill. The narrow, centuries-old streets were crowded with festival revellers who all wore red. They gaily headed toward the town square carrying red pendants, balloons, and scarves. We weaved through them, hurrying forward.

"Why are they all wearing red?" Alissa asked.

"San Marcos Day festival. The perfect setting. Large crowds. The Volturi won't let him get far enough to reveal himself - he's counting on that."

"We only have five minutes," Alissa looked at her watch again.

I screeched to a halt at a roadblock. Italian police waved me off.

Alissa jumped out of the car. "Where's the square?"

"Follow that lane," I pointed to a lane. Alissa was already running. "He'll be under the clock tower!" I yelled after her.

I looked up. A figure in a black overcoat leapt from building to building. I knew what they were looking for: Alissa.