SOMEWHERE ONLY WE KNOW ➻ DEMETRI VOLTURI

Q U I N D I C I

They landed in Moscow a couple of hours later and not being able to hide her curiosity, she observed their surroundings. Since she'd joined the Volturi, she'd been to many places, most of them in Europe, but never before had she been sent on a mission to Russia. Winter had just begun, the skies grey and the city bleak, everything covered in a layer of snow.

Though she didn't feel the cold, she pretended to shudder as she walked out of the airport. It had been a while since she'd been under the mortals and though sometimes she still felt the urge to grab a human and sink her teeth in their throat, it had become more bearable through the years. More than once the Masters had tried to get her to change her diet, claiming it would make her stronger still, but Cecilia hadn't given in. It allowed her to walk around without wearing contacts, like the vampire beside her.

"How many times have you been to Russia?" she asked, turning her head to look at him. She realised he looked oddly out of place, with his thick coat made of fur and a shapka. He was made for the sun and the beaches, not for the snow and the cold. Still, Cecilia couldn't deny that he was handsome.

Demetri turned his head as well, a small smile on his lips. "Enough times to know my way around."

He grabbed her hand, intertwining them and she felt a flower of warmth blossom in her heart. She looked at him cheekily. "Don't you always know your way around? Even if you've never been anywhere?"

"It evens out your incapability to navigate," he replied. His voice was teasing and Cecilia rolled her eyes. "Together we have about as much feeling for direction as the average person."

She gave him a nudge to his side, one that would have made any human fly to the side, but barely had an impact on him. Though she hated the fact that she was a poor navigator, she had to admit Demetri's words had a sense of truth to them. "Well, how about instead of insulting me, you lead us to the hotel we'll be staying in."

"Your wish is my command, my queen."

Cecilia rolled her eyes once more, a habit she had developed ever since meeting Demetri, but didn't bother to hide the smile that came to her face. Together, they made their way to the hotel, suitcases trailing after them. It wasn't far, but she liked the walk. It had been a while since she'd spent real quality time with Demetri, since Aro kept sending him on missions and insisted on keeping her at court for appearance's sake.

"It's nice," Cecilia said as soon as they walked into the room they shared. It was nothing particularly luxurious, in fact, it was very plain, with a bed placed in the middle of the room along with a small writing station and a chair and a basic bathroom attached, but it didn't matter to her. As long as she would stay there with Demetri she was fine with everything. Besides, if they were to operate secretly, a five-star hotel would certainly catch an eye.

Demetri placed their suitcases in the corner of the room, shrugging. "It's alright, I suppose."

Taking a seat on the edge of the bed, she looked at her soulmate. They'd been together for thirteen years now and though Cecilia hoped they would have multiple lifetimes left, she didn't want them to be like this, under the thumb and rule of Aro. She longed for freedom. "I need to talk to you."

Demetri had his back turned to her, putting away some of his clothes. He let out a soft hum, not appearing particularly bothered. "Is it about marriage again?" he asked, sounding slightly amused.

"No," she replied curtly. "It's about running away."

That seemed to gain his attention, instantly letting go of his clothes and turning back to her. The expression on his face was a mixture of shock, his eyebrows raised in scepticism. Cecilia couldn't blame him. Every time he had started about it she'd cut him off rather rudely. Without saying a word, he pulled the chair from the writing station, putting it in front of her and taking a seat on it. "Do go on."

"I've been working out a plan to get away," she admitted softly. "But I couldn't tell you, obviously, and now that I've told you, I will have to take the memories away again."

Even if it was only for a split second, Cecilia couldn't deny the look of betrayal in his eyes. In the blink of an eye, it had turned into understanding, but it left her feeling bitter still. She had wanted to involve him, every fibre in her being had longed for that, but she simply couldn't risk it.

"Why are you telling me now?" he asked, his voice gentle and void of any anger.

"Russia is the first step in my plan," Cecilia said. She folded her hands together in her lap to prevent them from fidgeting nervously. "I need to find Nikolai, he's going to hide us from every tracker the Volturi will replace you with once you're gone. I can only find him in Russia."

"What makes you think Nikolai will help you?" Demetri asked, the tone of his voice full of doubt. "He escaped more than ten years ago and nobody has heard from him since."

"It wasn't a random vampire who set Nikolai free all those years ago," Cecilia said. Her eyes observed the way he reached out for her, how his bigger hands enveloped hers, squeezing softly. "It was simply a story I made up and fed the guard. I set him free, and he still owes me. I have no way to contact him directly, but I know how to find him. We need to find a woman called Anya Popov first."

"Alright, we can do that," Demetri said, nodding to himself softly. He lifted one of her hands, pressing absentminded kisses all over it. "What about afterwards, when we've found her and Nikolai shields us?"

Cecilia smiled apologetically, pulling her hand from his, only to rest it on his cheek. "I can't tell you," she said once again. "The more I tell you, the more I have to take away from you and I hate messing with your mind." She knew from firsthand what playing with people's memories, giving and taking them, did to their minds. The last thing she wanted was to make Demetri turn crazy.

He nodded in understanding. After all, he too had seen the aftermath of her gift. "Okay, I trust you."

"None of it matters, though," she said. "Not if you want to stay."

Demetri frowned, leaning back against the chair and pulling away from her touch. Her hand fell into her lap once more and she bit the inside of her cheek nervously. Back when she had just joined the Volturi, the plan had been on her mind actively and fiercely, but the longer she stayed with them, the more her plan faded to the background. Cecilia knew that it was thanks to Chelsea's influence and the fact that she hadn't spoken much with her true family, that as soon as she got her claws out of her mind, her longing for fleeing Volterra would come back in full force, but it made her wonder how it was for Demetri. He'd been with the Volturi for centuries, which had allowed Chelsea all the time in the world to tighten his relationships with the Masters and the Guard.

"When I first met you, you frowned and pulled a disgruntled face at every comment I made about the Volturi, whether it was true or not," Cecilia said. He was brainwashed, and she feared that it was happening to her as well. She knew it was, which was the exact reason that she wanted to set her plan in motion, before it would be too late. "You couldn't bear the thought of running away and I understand. You've been with them for centuries, they're you're only family. So, if you want to stay, I'll stay with you."

It was quiet for another moment, the man in front of her in obvious conflict with himself. After a couple of minutes, he finally looked up. "I don't want to stay," he said, shaking his head ever so slowly. "You're my family, Cecilia, my home. I go wherever you go."

A smile that could light up the whole world came to her face and she let out a sigh of relief. She'd meant it. If he wanted to stay, so would she, but the prospect had filled her with great sadness. Now all of that was replaced with glee and she rushed forward, curling her arms around his neck as she took a seat on his lap. She could feel him chuckle against the bare skin of her neck, his strong arms pulling her closer. His close presence always left her intoxicated.

"Alright, let's do it," she said, looking into his eyes. "Let's run away to a place only we know."

He brushed away an escaped brown curl, his eyes trailing over her face with a glint of awe. "Somewhere only we know," he agreed, pressing his mouth against hers.