The Lure by Camilla10

A/N This is the first multi-chaptered story I wrote, some months ago. I was still very timid so, despite the subject matter, there is no graphic slash. Still, I believe it has merits and so I am proposing it to the readers at .

Summary

Would the Cullens accept a gay vampire in their midst? We know that Heidi was a lure for the Volturi, but was she the only one? To be attracted, different people might require different lures. And what if one of these lures had a change of heart, rebelled and started dreaming about the Cullens and their different lifestyle? A chance encounter in Moscow between Edward, Bella and Angelo, an Italian vampire, brings us into the heart of the story.

Story notes

I don't own Twilight, Stephenie Meyer does.

Many thanks to Audeamus Amor and ccALLIEfornia BENches for their editing.

Chapter 1. A chance encounter

Angelo

I walked without looking where I was going. My senses would help me find my way back to the hotel easily, anyway. I needed time to think if I was going to approach Sasha. Upon leaving the hotel, the receptionist told me to be careful. Moscow wasn't a safe city anymore, he deprecated. I thanked him for his concern and snorted internally. Let somebody attack me, I thought, he will be in for a surprise...

And then it happened. The street, a narrow alley on the back of a theatre, was deserted. I had not been paying attention, lost in my concerns, and suddenly three men were in front of me. One sported a knife and asked in Russian for my money. I moved quickly, took the knife and broke his arm, being very careful not to wrench it away. He screamed and the other two men retreated. Two more people arrived at my side, a man and a woman, and the gang melted into the shadows. I could see the newcomers perfectly in the poor light. They were supremely beautiful, very pale, and their scent told me that they were like me. And I knew them.

"You are Edward Cullen, aren't you?" I asked.

His amber eyes bore into mine, "You saw me in Volterra?"

Oh cazzo, I thought, I was forgetting he was a fucking mind reader. "Yes, and near Seattle too," I added," as you probably can see. I was with the Volturi then."

"But you aren't with them anymore," he stated. I don't know if this was due to the color of my eyes or to what he was reading in my mind.

"Please, can we talk?" I asked in a rush. I had not done anything to find him before, but now this chance encounter presented an opportunity that I couldn't pass up. "My name is Angelo. You have been very important for me and I would like to speak with you.."

"He doesn't mean us any harm, Bella," Edward said to the woman. Then, turning to me, he added, "Please, come with us, we can go to the dacha we are staying in, it will be more private." I followed them to where their car was parked and he drove out of the city, until we got to a secluded two stories wooden building.

Bella

One thing is certain. We do travel frequently, Edward and I. Because he is curious. It is a new, endearing aspect of his personality. At first, after decades of boredom and despair, he was curious of me because he could not read my mind. But afterward, when we were finally happy and together, he became curious of practically everything: of places, of people, be they human or not, of situations, even of the food he cannot eat. He is no longer satisfied by what others have experienced and, even though he can read their minds, he wants to experience things directly. So this time we were in Russia.

The official reason for the trip was the Glory to the Vinyl Week. During the era of Communism, Edward had told me, there were not many souvenirs one could buy in the Soviet Union. Caviar and vodka of course, then matrioska dolls, lacquered boxes and amber, but, for the connoisseurs, there were classical music records too. They were superb executions and cost very little. Unfortunately, when the CD era began, the Soviet music industry wasn't ready for it. Mountains of now obsolete Hi Fis were left to gather dust, but not destroyed. Now, almost two decades later, the vinyl record, suddenly in fashion again, was being celebrated. The best concerts had been transferred onto CDs, but visitors could also buy the old vinyl pieces or ask that their music of choice be transferred onto their iPods. Throughout the week a lot of musical performances and concerts were scheduled. In fact, Edward and I were returning from having seen Stravinsky's Rite of Spring when we met Angelo.

Being in Russia for the first time, we wanted to see some of the country too. Therefore we had decided to rent this luxury dacha in the woods. We planned to go for a few days to St Petersburg, then we expected Alice and Jasper to join us in and see more of Russia together. Alice also wanted to go shopping. The new Russia was a fashion designer heaven. All the best names among European stylists could be found in Moscow's boutiques, if you could afford the prices. While we were travelling, Renesmee was living with Rosalie and Emmett for a few weeks, a thing that made my sister very happy, despite the fact that she had to put up with Jacob.

Now we had had this unplanned encounter with a former member of the Volturi coven. I could understand why Edward was curious of what he had to tell us.

Vampires don't really need to sit, but it makes us more relaxed if we do, so we sat down in the dacha living room and invited him to do the same. Angelo was very, very beautiful. Tall and slim with wide shoulders, he had raven black hair falling on a gorgeous face on which, under long black lashes, the golden eyes sparkled like jewels. His skin was olive toned, pale, but darker than ours. Certainly Dolce & Gabbana would give an arm each to have him modeling their outfits.

"Angelo," Edward said, "I know that mind reading is very rude and often unnecessary. So I am asking Bella to shield your mind from me. You can speak freely, telling us only what you want to tell us."

I complied immediately. This was an exercise that Edward and I had perfected and now made use of often, to give privacy and respect to some of the people we conversed with.

"Thank you," said Angelo. "Now I will tell you briefly who I am. It is not a pretty story… Well, anyway, as you know I was in the Volturi service, but I was no warrior. I was… one of their lures."

It figured. Not everybody was going to be attracted to Volterra and death by Heidi. Different people had different tastes. As for vampires' stories not being pretty, it was an understatement. I remember Rosalie saying the same to me, one momentous night in Forks, as she told me how she had became immortal. Mine was probably the only story that deviated from the norm.

"Yes," Angelo continued, "I am gay. I was born as Angelo Guidi in a small town of central Italy at the end of the '40s. I had a normal infancy in a conventional low middle-class family. Then I met my first lover. He was the parish priest."

Chapter end note

The story is short and fast paced. I hope you will let me know what you think

'Dacha' is a Russian word for seasonal or year-round second homes located in the "exurbs" of Russian cities. In some cases it is occupied part of the year by its owner or rented out as a vacation retreat (Wikipedia).