Heartbeat [Alec Volturi]

Runaway

It was sinful, wearing his cloak to leave him.

The rain was a bittersweet commentary on the juxtaposition of my arrival and now my departure from Volterra. Each droplet was expelled from the sky with a steadily increasing force, splashing on the cobblestone streets.

My face turned up as tiny drops of water began to tap my cheeks like a knock on a door. Alec's cloak was tied around my shoulders, and I stuck out like a sore thumb, but people seemed too eager to escape the incoming weather to question it. The hood dropped while I observed the sky, and I reluctantly raised the collar to help it stay better on my head. Alec always folded the collar down, and it was silly, but doing the same made me feel closer to him.

It allowed me to pretend he would be anything but apoplectic with my actions.

Across the street, a man dropped a phone into his pocket as he spoke hurriedly with another. The two men were engrossed in an oddly public, heated debate, so I angled towards them, my pace tedious but necessary. I dropped my head as I drew closer. Neither of the men acknowledged me; even as I bumped into the anxious one, slipped two fingers into his pocket and lifted his telephone.

"Scusa," he apologized, too distracted to glance at me.

I made no attempt to respond, nor did I look back to see if he cared. I placed my bets on his conversation mattering more to him than a young girl in an old-fashioned black and red cloak. You would expect the cape to be a dead giveaway, but it seemed to have the opposite effect. As if I were a homeless person pushing a cart on the other side of the street.

I ducked into an alley where the roofs of the buildings on either side provided a decent cover from the sky's tears. And though the streets were far from empty yet, one glance around the corner confirmed that I had gotten away with my crime.

Leaning heavily against the wall, I began tapping the phone to try and find the keypad. My nerves seemed to rise with every failed attempt until I swiped my fingers, and it appeared. After typing in the numbers I'd written on my arm, I paused, and my eyes shot up. Paranoia had taken hold of me, but nobody paid attention to the shadow in the alley.

I pressed the green button and raised the phone to my ear.

My leaving should have been predictable. Before the Volturi, my father's disappearance served as the foundation of my decisions, and leaving had been the first decision I'd made within their walls. I only stopped trying to sneak out of the castle when Victor Tima confirmed my fear. Without my father, I had needed a new path.

So I played my role, made friends, and adjusted to what I became convinced would be the rest of my life. My doubts were pushed to the side and given the instructions to remain buried – until something changed. To be honest, I never expected it to.

I glanced up, confirming that I was still by my lonesome.

Alice Cullen's vision had been the modifier, and the suspicions I'd locked away hit me with full force. I still had questions — loads of questions about my father and his passing. And Razin, the Volturi's rising enemy, could have the answers I needed. As wonderful as life with the Volturi had been (aside from particular events), my loyalty to my father swallowed me like a moral obligation.

These considerations slipped into my dreams and allowed the waking peace to be stolen by the antagonists of real life. Two of which appeared with more frequency than the rest; Travis, whose death made him a superficial danger, and of course, the real threat: Razin. They were mere thoughts, not relevant enough to manifest into anything noteworthy. But they followed me nonetheless.

The Volturi continued searching for Razin using the same offensive methods as before, though they were returning with more signs of a fight. It was hardly mentionable, but Demetri and Felix had been spending a lot more time in the training room and others had started to join them. The coven could think of little else but finding Razin – naturally.