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Nate raised an eyebrow, clearly in no mood to tolerate the malicious attitudes of the Romanians. His silence, icy and restrained, was enough for Vladimir to interpret it as a signal to continue.
"As we suspected… the neophytes' movements did catch the Volturi's attention."
Stefan resumed in a measured tone, almost as if speaking from the certainty of having witnessed the events himself.
"It's not hard to assume they had some plan for them. That they let them continue existing after the chaos they caused in Seattle wasn't accidental. There was a purpose behind it."
Vladimir nodded with a barely perceptible smile, continuing his companion's thread.
"I wouldn't doubt that they sent people to investigate what happened. After all, overnight the neophytes stopped making themselves noticed… and since we took them under our control and forced them to remain in the shadows, the Volturi must have thought they simply disintegrated… or that something far greater made them disappear."
Nate nodded slowly, contemplating the possibilities. His mind moved with the precision of a machine, filling in the pieces of the reasoning.
"So they must have thought that another force eliminated them, or that someone experienced took command."
Vladimir smiled with satisfaction, pleased that Nathaniel followed the thread with such ease.
"I see that a few days in your old home didn't dull your senses, Nathaniel."
Nate held his gaze for a few seconds before replying, dryly:
"And who did they send? What exactly did they do?"
Vladimir smiled even more, savoring the attention of his ally.
"That's the interesting part, Nathaniel. They sent some of their heavyweights. It wasn't hard to find them; even though they tried to move through less trafficked areas, those sumptuous cloaks they insist on wearing give them away for miles."
He let out a short, bitter laugh.
"It was a small group: six vampires. Four of them were unfamiliar to me… which means they probably aren't too relevant. But commanding them were two well-known faces: Felix…"
The name made Stefan tense. A slight shiver ran through his body before he frowned, annoyed at his own reaction. Vladimir, noticing the detail, continued with a crooked smile.
"…and one of those disgusting twins… Jane."
Nate's eyes narrowed with restrained fury. He remembered clearly what the werewolf had told him: his mother's death, and the cold, almost detached way Jane had tortured her until she ended her life.
For a moment, rage coursed through him like liquid fire. His entire body tensed, as if the temperature around him had dropped. But he restrained himself. He took a deep breath—a gesture more mental than physical—and forced calm.
Jane's gift was widely known, both feared and respected by all vampires. She wasn't called one of the pillars of Volturi authority for nothing. But for Nate, she was still an unknown. He knew what she could do—provoke excruciating pain with a single glance. Yet he didn't know the exact reach, duration, or limits. Too many variables. Too many pieces he needed to understand before facing her directly.
He brought a hand to his chin, thoughtful, and spoke softly, almost monotonously:
"And did they discover anything?"
Vladimir shrugged, as if speaking of a trivial matter.
"I only followed them for a couple of days. The tracking dog wasn't with them, but I kept my distance to remain unnoticed. I couldn't hear what they said, but I could see what they did. They wandered around the city, looking for traces of the neophytes. On the second day, they arrived at the abandoned factory. They stayed there a couple of hours until two other vampires appeared. They didn't seem to be part of the group, but they were received without hostility. They talked for a long time… and then they all left together."
He paused, letting the information sink in.
"After that, they boarded a private plane. I couldn't follow them beyond that."
Nate remained thoughtful at Vladimir's words. That the Volturi had abandoned Seattle for the moment gave him some margin to seek another clue with the scent of Riley that Alistair could track. However, the possibility of their return while he and his group were there unnerved him. Though he trusted Alice's visions, that didn't guarantee they couldn't be caught off guard. And while he was sure he could survive—and that Alice would too—the fact of staying with the Romanians already made him a target… and, by extension, the Cullens.
He remained still for a few seconds. Paranoia gnawed at him from within like a persistent echo that wouldn't fade. Finally, he took a deep breath and chose to ignore it. He would rely on his partner's gift to anticipate any deviation from the plan.
After all, they only had to make a quick stop, and then they could hunt Riley calmly, without interference… and without mistakes.
But something still bothered him. A question, insistent, kept spinning in his mind: why had those vampires gone to the factory? Were they following the Volturi and decided to confront them there, where no humans would be present? Or was the factory their objective from the beginning, and the encounter with the Volturi just a coincidence?
Chance rarely existed among their kind, and Nate knew that all too well.
He narrowed his eyes, letting the heavy silence weigh on the group for a few seconds before speaking in a controlled tone:
"Those vampires who arrived at the factory… what were they like? Any markings, anything particular?"
Vladimir furrowed his brow, as if digging through his memory. His cold, calculating eyes narrowed before he replied:
"One was quite distinctive. He stood out as being bigger than the other. And though both wore loose clothes and hoods, it was easy to notice that he was missing an arm… That, among our kind, is unusual. If they rip off an arm and burn it to prevent reattachment, logically they'd also have the capacity to destroy you completely."
Stefan nodded at the observation, his expression grave. Vladimir continued in a more serious tone:
"The other was small, slight of build. I can't be certain, but I'd say it was a woman. She approached the Volturi first and spoke to them. She didn't seem nervous at all; her movements were slow, deliberate… almost rehearsed. And at all times she kept the other behind her back, as if protecting him."
Nate absorbed the details with the coldness of someone assembling a half-finished puzzle. The information was scarce. A one-armed vampire was rare, yes, but not impossible. Pairs traveling together weren't unusual. Yet something compelled him to dig deeper.
"Did you notice any other markings? Their faces, anything else?" he insisted.
Vladimir shook his head slowly.
"Nothing else. They were well covered. At least one of them knew exactly what they were doing. Even from afar, I could smell heavy perfume, and they barely showed any skin. It wasn't improvisation… they were prepared so no one would recognize them."
Nate frowned, his mind moving at full speed between possibilities. Although the situation was strange, he knew he couldn't deviate from the objective. He had already lost too much time, and the best plan remained the same: with Alistair's gift, he could find Riley wherever he was hiding; everything else could wait…
For now, making contact with the Volturi or unknown vampires connected to them would be an unnecessary risk.
Finally, after processing everything, he spoke with a calmer voice, though his gaze remained sharp as a newly forged blade:
"I understand. We'll stay alert. If any of your contacts hear anything, I want to know immediately. But we'll stick to the plan. Tonight, after I handle the situation with the wolves and Stefan captures the tracker, we leave for Seattle without delay."
The silence that followed was dense, almost tangible. The Romanians exchanged a brief glance, a mixture of expectation and caution. Nate, however, had already closed the conversation in his mind. There would be no more debate. The pieces were in motion, and now all that remained was to move forward.
With determined steps, Nate turned his back to the Romanians and began to walk away, ready to leave. Yet a detail tugged at his attention: it wasn't distrust, it was curiosity. Without turning, he asked, his voice controlled, tense as a wire:
"You said you only followed them for two days, but didn't return immediately. Did something hold you up, Vladimir?"
Vladimir didn't hide the smug smile on his face; for a moment, there was a glint of almost admiration in his eyes, soon replaced by his usual malice. His laugh was low and teasing.
"For a moment, I thought you might have missed that detail, Nathaniel," he said with amusement. "It's true I entertained myself with other matters… Being alone gave me time to think, and I remembered something the dog you killed in D.C. said before it died… Since it seemed you would stay a few more days in Forks, I decided to pass the time and investigate."
Nate didn't need it explained. Yamil's words—the werewolf—had lingered in his mind since that night; he had stored them, intending to return to them when he had more power at his disposal. When he had greater control, the Neophytes were better trained.
Calmly, he turned toward Vladimir, his gaze cold.
"How many did you find?" he asked.
Vladimir's eyes widened, surprised by the sharpness of the question.
Stefan, unaware of the exchange, tilted his head with curiosity, as if searching for a piece of the puzzle he still couldn't place.
"I found six," Vladimir replied, baring his teeth in a satisfied smile. "Two didn't want to follow me; they attacked, and I had to take care of them." His voice carried a hint of mock pain.
The tone of feigned innocence sounded like poorly executed mockery to Nate.
"The other four, to my surprise, stayed together. They decided to follow me after I beat the largest one. Once they understood the difference in our abilities, they showed submission… though I wouldn't doubt they're just waiting for the next full moon to try again."
The phrase clicked in Stefan's mind like a puzzle piece, finally finding its place. An eager, theatrical smile spread across his face as he whispered:
"That dog babbled about biting more people… I almost forgot in my excitement to convince Nathaniel to join us. Moon Children, Vladimir? Did we finally get hunting dogs for our purpose?"
Vladimir returned Stefan's gaze with the proud calm of someone holding a delicious secret. There were few surprises between them after centuries together; he savored his companion's enthusiasm.
"It was easier than I thought," he said, with a smile that smelled of danger. "Since the dog Nathaniel killed was more cautious, I thought it would take me a while to find even one… but I succeeded almost immediately." He spoke with a certain excitement, though his brow furrowed slightly.
"The only issue is that they're still stubborn. They need a reality check to fully submit. I've seen them look at me: anxious for the clock to strike the full moon so they can tear me apart."
Stefan laughed loudly, a mix of joy and ambition.
"That's the least of it, Vladimir! We have Nathaniel, the neophytes, and now the Moon Children. If we tame those dogs, we'll be unstoppable. Where did you leave them? In D.C.?"
Vladimir shrugged with feigned discretion, enjoying the attention.
"That was a surprise, Stefan…" he began, but Nate's patience ran out.
"Where did you leave them, Vladimir?" Nate bellowed, sharp and with no intention of wasting another second.
Vladimir read Nate's gaze and, with a mixture of resignation and evident mischief, replied:
"The Moon Children blend better than we do. I left them in a town a few kilometers from here. If we ran now, we'd arrive in just over half an hour."
Nate exhaled a contained sigh. He knew he could take advantage of these werewolves, but they were a dangerous variable: he had never faced one in transformed form, and the idea that, at the first full moon, they could turn on them unsettled him. Dominating them would require a fear as deep as what he had imposed on the neophytes; scaring them until rebellion seemed an unimaginable folly. And that implied risks: how many would be lost in the attempt? Would he be able to subdue them all? And if he had underestimated them and they ended up killing him?
Tired just thinking about it, he traced possibilities and timelines in his mind: there were still days before the full moon. He clenched his teeth, reinforced his resolve, and looked toward the forest again, preparing to leave.
Before departing, he left a clear, cold warning for Vladimir:
"I don't want to hear that you do anything behind my back. Especially nothing volatile. Those wolves will stay where they are without causing a scene. Before the full moon, we'll relocate them to another city, far from here. Then we'll decide what to do with them."
Stefan, about to argue that taming them should be their priority, opened his mouth—but Nate didn't give him the chance to speak a word.
"Remember what you're supposed to do. I want that tracker captured and the group of neophytes at the river as agreed," he said with a coldness that silenced any reply. Even the neophytes standing a few steps away couldn't help but shiver.
Nate gave them one last look; his decision was made. With a flash, he disappeared among the trees. There was no time for distractions: Riley had been out of reach for too long, almost mocking his impunity, and Nate wasn't going to tolerate it for another minute.