My duties began the next day. Felix explained that I wouldn't be allowed to leave the castle without supervision for quite some time, but that I would be allowed to join the city patrols soon enough. In the meantime, my days were to be a mix of menial chores, language study, combat training, and taking shifts in the reading room. I wasn't given much free time, but Felix promised that would change eventually.

"You're to be my apprentice here in the reading room," Demetri told me as we sat down with a teetering stack of newspapers. "You and I will cover all the major English-speaking sources for now, since you haven't yet gained proficiency in other languages. You'll be able to tell which parts of the newspaper are important to read."

In addition to the newspapers, there were wired military communications to decode, radio broadcasts to listen to, newly published books to read, and even handwritten notes like the one I had seen before. "We have contacts posted around the world at strategic points," Demetri explained. "Most of them aren't members of the Guard"— he paused, feeling uncertain for a moment—"but they have committed themselves to staying in a particular region and relaying any information that might be concerning."

I thought about that for a minute. "Is there one of these... contacts posted in Central America?"

"Certainly."

"Then why..." I trailed off, nodding in reluctant acknowledgement of Demetri's warning look. I got to work instead, flipping through a month-old copy of the New York Times to see what there was to see. It didn't seem efficient to be so many days behind, but I supposed that couldn't be helped. I was just relieved to be in the reading room instead of the training room—most of my dismemberment wounds had fully healed by now, but my left hip was taking its time. More than once I found myself rubbing the sore muscles while I read.

The newspaper was filled with chatter about the war—it all felt so far away now. It looked like America was jumping in with both feet now that it had finally decided to do so. I wondered if the fighting would ever come near Volterra. Demetri said he didn't think so, but that we would be prepared if it did.

Once I made it through the first pile of newspapers, Demetri went over the information with me, making sure I knew what to look for. Next we turned on the radio and listened to a short-wave broadcast coming from London.

"They're so focused on the war right now that we won't hear much civilian news," he explained. "We'll need to rely more heavily on newspapers and our contacts for that."

"Have you noticed an increase in vampire crime since the war began?" I asked.

"Yes, a little. There are two great dangers that accompany human wars. Territories tend to shift with the movement of troops. The border disputes can get ugly sometimes."

"And the second?"

"Accidental creations. There are a lot of vampires who get careless when there's so much blood for the taking in one place. They'll feed and feed until they are engorged. They drop the last human and move on without bothering to make sure it's dead. Sometimes, the human is left with enough blood to survive the transformation. This newborn wakes up alone and afraid. With no one to instruct them, they run wild. A savage. Those kinds of newborns are possibly the most severe threat to the security of our secret."

Not all of them, I thought, remembering Heinrich. Still, I was disgusted at such carelessness. Maria would never have dreamed of taking such a risk. She had been meticulous in her commitment to covering our tracks, and that included neutralizing any possible liabilities. Not that we would have ever let blood go to waste like that in the first place—there were always mouths to feed.

I chuckled to myself, turning my attention back to the radio. Imagine holding Maria up as a paragon of responsibility.

There was some excitement near the end of our shift. Amin suddenly stood up from his seat, still reading the newspaper that was clutched in his fingers. "Demetri, here," he said. "Look at this."

Demetri read the crumpled paper for two seconds and abruptly left the room, Amin following hot on his heels. I crossed the room and picked up the newspaper he had dropped, but it wasn't in English or Italian. "Can you read this?" I asked Carlo, who was sitting nearby.

He shook his head. "That's not one of my languages. They'll tell us what's going on eventually."

I was left to finish the pile of newspapers alone. I didn't see anything that hinted at the kind of trouble Demetri had described, but I refolded everything and left it in a neat pile for him to check later.

"Anything else in English I can work on?" I asked Carlo.

"Not today."

I went in search of Chelsea. I was accustomed to living in the open air, to following my nose; it was frustrating to have such a hard time finding someone with all our scents blending together in the halls. I finally found her in the music room. She was tuning the strings of a strange-looking instrument. I watched her from the hallway for a moment, breathing in her contentment. She didn't seem to have a care in the world.

"Come in, Jasper," she murmured without looking up.

"I'm done in the reading room. Amin found something and Demetri had to leave."

"Found what?"

I shrugged. "Something in one of the newspapers. I couldn't read it."

Chelsea laid aside her instrument and rose smoothly to her feet. "I'll find out what's going on. You can move on to the torches now."

"All right."

I made my way down to the storeroom, absently rubbing my left thigh as I walked. One of my duties, at least here in the beginning, would be to keep the hall torches burning. There were over a hundred of them—Felix had given me a detailed map of all the halls on each floor with every single torch marked on it, at least the halls I was allowed in. I was well aware the maps weren't complete, and that I was expected to keep my feet within the pencil lines. I was getting the hang of keeping my mouth shut.

I felt like a janitor who had gotten sucked back into the middle ages, pushing my squeaky cart around the stone halls. Every twelve hours, each torch had to be snuffed out with a long pole that had a kind of metal cup on the end. Then I had to take the torch down from its sconce, take out the old wick, pour new oil down into the reservoir, thread a new wick down into the fuel, get the torch back up into the sconce, and light it.

The wicks were soaked with oil beforehand, making it a messy and downright dangerous job. The thought occurred to me that it would be safer without my cloak on—or a shirt, for that matter—but I didn't think my new masters would appreciate that tactic. At least my hair was tied back out of the way. I worked slowly the first few times, taking care not to let too much oil get on my fingers. Once I got the hang of it, I was able to speed things up a little.

The real challenge was refilling the torches in the training room. Some of them were so high up that the only way to reach them was to jump. I shot up and took the torch out easily enough so I could do the refilling on the ground, but I didn't fancy flying upwards through the air with a burning torch. No matter how much I thought I had gotten the oil off my hands and the cuffs of my shirt, the lingering smell told me it wasn't a good idea. I kept the torch unlit and put it back up that way. After a few tries of jump-ignite-light, I finally succeeded. Was this another test, another prank? See if the new guy can make it through his first day without setting his hair on fire?

On the third torch, I tried something different. I leapt up a couple of times and carefully tested the metal of the sconce that held the torch, trying to see if it might support my body weight. It held fast, so this time I just jumped up with all the supplies, hooked one wrist over the neck of the sconce, and took care of everything with the other hand. But then I thought I heard a protesting creak coming from the wall, just as I let myself down.

When I met Chelsea later on for language study, I thought about asking her what the secret was for relighting the torches in the training room, but decided I'd like to keep working at it on my own.

"There's been a breach in India," she told me when we were putting away our books. "Caius has taken a team to investigate. There will be no training until they return, so you'll have some extra free time."

"I'll use it to study," I promised her. "Any guess when I'll be allowed to go?"

"Patience, Jasper," she said with a warm smile.

"Right."

.

.

.

I was well aware that I shouldn't expect any more special "gifts" from Aro, and Caius was gone now, and I doubted whether Marcus had spared me a thought since my cloaking ceremony. Still, as the next couple days wore on and my thirst worked itself up to an inferno, I found myself listening intently, hoping against hope that I'd hear the thumping of a human heart working its way toward my door. Maybe some of the higher-up Guards were allowed to hand out gifts, too. But no such luck.

By Friday afternoon, I couldn't focus on reading anymore. I was barely able to get my torch duty done that evening; the rest of the time I was balled up in my armchair with my arms wrapped around my knees, trying not to think about blood. About the thousands of humans going about their business just a few hundred feet from where I sat.

Tomorrow at noon I would feed with the others for the first time, and that wasn't a comfort. It was worry, as much as thirst, that had me more and more agitated as the long night wore on. How was I going to manage feeding in a group without losing my mind? I couldn't mess this up, not now. I was just relieved that Caius, Felix, and Demetri were out of town. I would be feeding like this from now on, and I just needed to face it.

But when the morning came, I was still a nervous wreck. I still had to wait until noon. When the clock on my mantle reached eleven, I gritted my teeth and mechanically went about my torch duty, keeping an eye on my new wristwatch the whole time, trying not to rush and get even more oil all over me. I rushed back to my quarters to wash, just in time. When I swept back out into the hall, buttoning my last shirtsleeve, Marco and Carlo were just turning the corner on the way to the Dining Room.

"First time?" Carlo said when I caught up to them.

"Yeah."

They both clapped me hard on the back, nearly making me stumble. "You haven't lived!" Marco said eagerly. "Guests are sometimes allowed to join in, but only those of us in the Guard have it all the time. You get two every time, sometimes three if Heidi has a big catch or some of us are out, and you don't have to scramble for your prey at all—there's no rush, no one takes more than their share!"

"Great," I muttered, doing the math in my head. Just great.

When we reached the dining room, there was a little yellow paper stuck on the door. It had a number "3" written on it.

"What'd I say, Jasper!" Marco said in a rushed whisper as we entered. "Three today!"

Fantastic.

Nothing happened for a while. Guards were still trickling in. Aro was the last to enter, accompanied by two female vampires I hadn't seen before. They wore no robes at all, and they both had that strange, papery-looking skin like Aro and Marcus, though the effect wasn't as noticeable—they were so beautiful it was hard to notice anything else. Aro carried the shorter one's hand on his own. His mate, then? Strange that I hadn't heard of her before now. And what about the other one? She was tall and intimidating, glancing around at the others with an imperious condescension that reminded me strikingly of Caius. Her eyes landed on me, briefly, and moved on.

I flicked my cloak off my shoulder when I saw the others doing it. The walls were lined with pegs here just like the training room, and I hung mine near the door we'd come in... just in case I would need to make a quick departure.

We waited in silence. My thirst burned on, flickering even higher so close to everyone else's. Thirst wasn't an emotion, not really, but it had an unmistakable emotional subtext. At least here, in a room full of mature vampires, that subtext was significantly less desperate.

We heard Heidi's high, clear voice before we could hear the humans. It sounded like she was giving them a tour of the castle, or at least of the facade, the halls meant for human company. I could hear the drumming of their heartbeats now... they all blended together in my thirsty imagination, one huge, hammering pulse vibrating in my own chest. Come on, come on...

"And just in here, it is said, the ancient vampires held court," Heidi was saying on the other side of the closed door. Watch your head, it's a low ceiling in this one part..."

The door on the far wall finally opened. The first human faces appeared, and it was all I could do to keep still. I'd need to wait and see what the procedure was, especially for those of us with the lighter cloaks. A couple of the humans laughed out loud when they saw us. Others began to chatter amongst themselves about the authenticity of the tour. Someone snapped a picture with their camera. In the very back of the crowd, a couple of more perceptive humans were starting to edge back toward the hall.

"Welcome to Volterra!" Aro said in Italian with theatrical over-pronunciation. He spread his arms in welcome. Heidi closed the door behind her.

"Come on, Jasper," Carlo said gleefully. Aro officially welcoming the humans had apparently been the signal; several Guards rushed forward. I felt a hand shoving me forward, as well. I would need to be quick so I could finish and deal with it while the others were distracted by their own prey. That one there in the brown jacket smelled good...

And then it hit. It was far, far worse than I had feared. As the first humans were snatched up and the carnage began, the crowd of human emotion tanked. For a second there, it was just a chilling numbness, the pure thrill of shock. But by the time the screams began, it had sunk fast into a churning mass of heart-splitting terror. The Guards' excitement didn't even put a dent in it. Human fear was everywhere, it was everything. Nothing else existed but the sea of fear sucking me downward. So much of it crammed in the tiny room, so much of it shooting through me, so much that I couldn't even try to fight it. I had barely had my teeth in my prey's neck for two seconds before we both tumbled to the floor in paralyzed agony. I shoved him blindly aside, blood and all. The next moment I was shivering, jammed up against the wall I had managed to crawl to. I knew this would ruin everything, but I couldn't help it. I had never felt so terrified, not since my own transformation. I just needed it all to stop!

It didn't take long for the room to go quiet, for the haze of fear to dissipate. At least it didn't seem long. When I was finally able to draw a breath and open my eyes, most of the others were finished feeding, slowly putting on their cloaks and staring down at me. I was still wadded up in the corner.

And it was even worse than that. My prey lay on the stone floor next to me, broken and shivering in his own unique torment. I recognized the early signs of transformation, and from the whispers in the crowd, so did everyone else. I kicked my foot out once, hard, and put him out of his misery. If only my embarrassment were so easy to clean up. I slowly, reluctantly looked up into Aro's eyes. He stood frozen on the other side of the room, and yet his disappointment was still so palpable I could taste the bitterness on my tongue. I looked down again, even more deeply ashamed. I let my head fall back against the stone wall and shut my eyes again.

"Well," he said, ending the awkward silence. "I am sure you all have other matters to attend to. Jane, Alec, you will return in several minutes to clean up."

The others filed out as quickly as they could. Carlo sent me a sympathetic glance on his way out. Everyone else made a point of not looking at me again. Aro whispered something to the ladies that had come in with him, and they departed. Marcus had already gone. Gustav was the only Guard left. He clutched a whimpering human under each arm. Their fear soured the air from across the room, a mere annoyance compared to before.

Aro slowly approached, stepping gingerly around a couple of the corpses. He held his hands together as he walked, tapping his fingertips against each other in thoughtful meditation. "I did not think it would be that... bad," he said frankly.

I let out my breath slowly, then finally gathered my wits enough to stand up and smooth out my rumpled cloak. "Neither did I," I admitted. "That won't happen again, Master."

Aro pressed his lips into a thin line of severe disappointment. His sadness filled the room. "No, Jasper," he said. "It most certainly will not happen again."

He looked down at the human lying crumpled at my feet and left the room without another word. Gustav followed, carelessly flinging the two humans toward me on his way out.

"Too bad," he said under his breath, and shut the door.

I stood there for a minute, still unable to believe how badly the whole thing had gone, how eternally sick I was of this foul curse of a gift, how thoroughly I had ruined my chances of advancement now—if I wasn't about to be thrown out in the first place. I stood there, chest heaving, unable to believe how close I had come to thinking that this whole thing was really going to work out. Wondering what I was supposed to do with myself after this.

And then I turned around and poured out my rage on the two poor wretches who had the misfortune to see me coming.

.

.

.

I went straight to my quarters after feeding and stayed there. I knew I would be summoned any minute. I couldn't decide which was worse—would they take my cloak and throw me out? Or would I be staying out of pity, the laughingstock of Volterra, taking care of torches and laundry for the rest of eternity? They would never take me out on a mission after this, and the worst part was that I couldn't even blame them.

I cleaned up quickly, not wanting to be called with blood still on my shirt. I was just lucky to have been truly alone when I had finally fed; I had already been a wreck beforehand, and my two humans had had plenty of time to see what was coming, unlike the others. To say that I had suffered their dying emotions was putting it too mildly. And to top it all off, they had just had enough time to cry out their love to each other; they had been a young couple, probably touring Europe on their honeymoon or something heart-wrenching like that. Exactly the sort of prey I would have felt good about leaving alive. They were the last two I would have picked.

I scrubbed at the stains harder and harder until the shirt tore to pieces in my hands and I threw the wet, mangled fabric onto the floor. I dressed again, pulling my hair back into its neat ponytail. I liked the new style, I decided miserably as I straightened my cloak in the mirror. Even if I got kicked out, I'd keep it. It made me look neat, put together, in control. It made me look the opposite of how I felt right now.

I wondered, not for the first time, if it would always be this way for me. If I would always be at the mercy of my prey, always being pulled back and forth with the tide of whatever emotions were nearby. I had been a vampire for nearly eighty years. It felt like forever—but now, surrounded by ancients, it sounded young. Would it ever get easier to distance myself from the emotional flood, or would I be treading water in it for the rest of eternity? Maria had mentioned something once about vampires growing slowly in advanced age—stronger senses, stronger muscles, stronger gifts in the gifted. It had been her explanation for why the Volturi were so powerful, so feared.

In what way might my gift "grow" in the centuries to come? Would it get worse? Or would I somehow learn to separate myself from the emotional world around me, able to wield it with immunity? Imagine someday being able to actually enjoy feeding like every other vampire on the planet, I thought bitterly.

But none of that mattered right now. I sat upright, tense, on one end of the long couch, staring at the cold ashes in the fireplace, waiting. The clock on the mantle grew louder. I could hear the rubbing, scraping friction between the minute hand and the hour hand. I grew more and more agitated with each passing hour.

Finally, I had to go out and do the torches. I dispensed with my duty quickly and returned back to my quarters to wait again. Another hour passed, and another. I was beginning to wonder if Aro might actually be willing to forget the whole thing ever happened. The next minute I was hoping against hope that he would deal with it, and not leave it to Caius when he returned. That, I knew, would be worse, whatever the outcome.

Finally, a knock. I rose and opened the door, nodding in respect to Aro.

"You seem no worse for wear, young Jasper," he said politely.

"I recover quickly," I told him, then, "Master." I was still getting the hang of that one.

Aro peeked around my shoulder at the arrangements of my quarters. I waited awkwardly, then followed him down the hall when he moved away. Keep your mouth shut, I warned myself.

"I have been reconsidering your situation," Aro began, and I winced, relieved that he could not see my face as we walked. His emotions were difficult to read. His disappointment was still paramount, but it was more complex. Curiosity, I realized, was boiling up by the minute.

"I am sure I need not explain, young Jasper, that your display earlier today was unacceptable," he went on. "That such behavior is totally unsuitable for one in the Guard." He waited.

"Yes, Master," I said uneasily.

"We will have to part ways," he said with finality. He stopped walking and turned to face me. "Unless a solution can be found."

I stopped short. "A solution?"

"Oh, there are any number of ways to get around it," he said carelessly, waving his hand in the air. He began walking again, briskly, heading for the stairwell. I kept up, doing my best to match his smooth stride. "We could save your meal for you, as we ended up doing today, and you could feed after the others. We could divert them, allowed you to feed privately in another area. We could cater your meals directly to your rooms—room service, ha!" I could practically feel his laughter bubbling up in my own throat; he was enjoying himself immensely all of a sudden. Odd, very odd indeed.

"But in all seriousness, young Jasper, I am sure you see the difficulty. It is not meet to favor one above the others so, especially one so young and new, so..." He hesitated. "Well, after today, it would almost be seen as a reward for your peculiar display. Do you understand my meaning?"

"Not quite, Master."

"Of course, of course. I forget how new all of this is to you. You see, there are so many of us here who live in harmony... we all have our duty to one another. How can I be seen to let you feed alone every week when it is a reward rarely bestowed, even on our dearest, eldest friends? I do not withhold it from harshness—would that I could indulge my children in every comfort! But our little tradition of dining together is an honor, one that is renowned and envied throughout the wide world. It is your great privilege, Jasper, to have been given a place at that table. Many of our Guards do hunt out in the world when they are on a journey with Caius, or on some other assignment. For many, the thrill of the hunt is a unique joy, one they look forward to, and are sometimes rewarded with on special occasions. But that does not mean they spurn our gatherings when they are at home. Now do you understand?"

"So... you can't let me feed or hunt alone because it wouldn't look good."

"Precisely. But, as I said, I may have found another solution... here we are..."

We had come down to the floor that led to the catacombs. Aro waited while I took down one of the torches and lit it, brightening the white alabaster streaks all along the tunnel walls. He gestured for me to lead the way with the light. We walked the length of the tunnel in dramatic silence. He really liked to draw these things out, didn't he?

The ossuaries and caskets filed by, one by one. Finally our path tipped upward and we exited the tunnel. We left the torch in a sconce and passed through the church out into the courtyard, stepping out into the fresh afternoon air of the countryside

"I wonder if he was able to... ah, yes!" Aro's curiosity burned brighter. "This way, my friend."

He took me part of the way up a little hill. The trees were just beginning to thicken when we came to an old worn-out shed. My ears perked up when I heard a scuffling sound inside.

"Your dinner is inside," Aro said, gesturing toward the shed with a flourish.

I eagerly closed the distance. I'd be able to control myself with Aro looking on, now that my thirst was sated; I was sure of it. But as soon as I opened the door, a mangy wolf rushed out past my legs, not a human. It whimpered at my scent and darted off toward the trees.

"Oh, catch it!" Aro commanded. I ran to obey, easily scooping the animal up in one arm.

"I don't understand, Master," I told him, wrestling to keep the animal still in my arms. It wiggled and yelped in protest, and it had already gotten its front paws tangled in my cloak.

"Just try it," Aro said with a hint of impatience.

I eyed him incredulously; a prank, from one of the Three? But an order was an order. Feeling ridiculous, I brought the furry neck up to my teeth. It was a messy business, and when the bitter blood touched my tongue I nearly put the thing down. Disgusting. But Aro was still looking on eagerly. Just to please him, I kept on. After getting a good bit of the blood down my neck—and there went another shirt, ruined—I was able to get down through the fur to the artery. I nearly gagged, but I did it. I drank and drank until there was nothing left. I dropped the empty wolf and, unable to stop myself, I spat out the last mouthful instead of swallowing it. Ugh!

Aro clapped his hands, delighted with himself. "Oh, marvelous. How was it?"

"Awful." I dragged my shirtsleeve across my face to clean it.

"Yes, of course it is. I have tried it before. Ghastly. But I think you will find that it is sufficient. Oh, let me see!" He reached for my hand. I made sure there was no blood first, then complied. "Ah!" he said, even more pleased. "Isn't that better?"

It finally dawned on me, what he was doing. "Wait. Are you saying that this is the solution? Animal blood?"

"Exactly! I know it is a poor substitute, Jasper, but it is a substitute." He gave me a strange look. "For the first time in your long life, Jasper, you have fed—and been satisfied—without emotional pain."

He was right, I realized suddenly. The taste was so poor, I hadn't even thought of it as really feeding. More like pretending. But I had just fed, and I had felt nothing at all. There was no human brain, no human heart here to hurt me. The residual burn lay in my throat as usual, but it was noticeably quieter than before I had had the wolf. My stomach felt pleasantly full.

"You're right," I said, looking doubtfully down at the carcass, "but surely you don't mean I'll be feeding like this all the time? Surely it doesn't... work?"

Aro smiled indulgently. "But it does. I have reason to believe that you will be able to go years, decades without needing human blood. We will consider it an experiment for now, but I think this may solve your little problem for good."

The shock of it rocked through me. I didn't need to hunt humans at all? I didn't have to suffer every time I fed? Something rebellious welled up inside me at the thought of not having real blood, but the truth of this moment drowned it out. I stared at my master with new eyes, unable to believe the gift he had just given me. He had set me free!