of the lamp beside him threw the slightly raised design into 
relief, with shallow shadows outlining the shapes. And then I grasped that the pattern was 

 

made of individual crescents like the one on his wrist . . . the one on my hand. 

I looked back at my own small, solitary scar - and remembered how I'd received it. I stared at 
the shape of James's teeth, embossed forever on my skin. 

And then I gasped, staring up at him. "Jasper, whathappened to you?" 

 

13. NEWBORN 

"THE SAME THING THAT HAPPENED TO YOUR HAND,"Jasper answered in a quiet 
voice. "Repeated a thousand times." He laughed a little ruefully and brushed at his arm. "Our 
venom is the only thing that leaves a scar." 

"Why?"I breathed in horror, feeling rude but unable to stop staring at his subtly ravaged skin. 

"I didn't have quite the same . . . upbringing as my adopted siblings here. My beginning was 
something else entirely." His voice turned hard as he finished. 

I gaped at him, appalled. 

"Before I tell you my story," Jasper said, "you must understand that there are places inour 
world, Bella, where the life span of the never-aging is measured in weeks, and not centuries." 

The others had heard this before. Carlisle and Emmett turned their attention to the TV again. 
Alice moved silently to sit at Esme's feet. But Edward was just as absorbed as I was; I could 
feel his eyes on my face, reading every flicker of emotion. 

"To really understand why, you have to look at the world from a different perspective. You 
have to imagine the way it looks to the powerful, the greedy . . . the perpetually thirsty. 

"You see, there are places in this world that are more desirable to us than others. Places 
where we can be less restrained, and still avoid detection. 

"Picture, for instance, a map of the western hemisphere. Picture on it every human life as a 
small red dot. The thicker the red, the more easily we - well, those who exist this way - can 
feed without attracting notice." 

I shuddered at the image in my head, at the wordfeed. But Jasper wasn't worried about 
frightening me, not overprotective like Edward always was. He went on without a pause. 

"Not that the covens in the South care much for what the humans notice or do not. It's the 
Volturi that keep them in check. They are the only ones the southern covens fear. If not for 
the Volturi, the rest of us would be quickly exposed." 

I frowned at the way he pronounced the name - with respect, almost gratitude. The idea of 
the Volturi as the good guys in any sense was hard to accept. 

"The North is, by comparison, very civilized. Mostly we are nomads here who enjoy the day 
as well as the night, who allow humans to interact with us unsuspectingly - anonymity is 
important to us all. 

"It's a different world in the South. The immortals there come out only at night. They spend 
the day plotting their next move, or anticipating their enemy's. Because it has been war in the 
South, constant war for centuries, with never one moment of truce. The covens there barely 

 

note the existence of humans, except as soldiers notice a herd of cows by the wayside - food 
for the taking. They only hide from the notice of the herd because of the Volturi." 

"But what are they fighting for?" I asked. 

Jasper smiled. "Remember the map with the red dots?" 

He waited, so I nodded. 

"They fight for control of the thickest red. 

"You see, it occurred to someone once that, if he were the only vampire in, let's say Mexico 
City, well then, he could feed every night, twice, three times, and no one would ever notice. 
He plotted ways to get rid of the competition. 

"Others had the same idea. Some came up with more effective tactics than others. 

"But themost effective tactic was invented by a fairly young vampire named Benito. The first 
anyone ever heard of him, he came down from somewhere north of Dallas and massacred the 
two small covens that shared the area near Houston. Two nights later, he took on the much 
stronger clan of allies that claimed Monterrey in northern Mexico. Again, he won." 

"How did he win?" I asked with wary curiosity. 

"Benito had created an army of newborn vampires. He was the first one to think of it, and, in 
the beginning, he was unstoppable. Very young vampires are volatile, wild, and almost 
impossible to control. One newborn can be reasoned with, taught to restrain himself, but ten, 
fifteen together are a nightmare. They'll turn on each other as easily as on the enemy you 
point them at. Benito had to keep making more as they fought amongst themselves, and as 
the covens he decimated took more than half his force down before they lost. 

"You see, though newborns are dangerous, they are still possible to defeat if you know what 
you're doing. They're incredibly powerful physically, for the first year or so, and if they're 
allowed to bring strength to bear they can crush an older vampire with ease. But they are 
slaves to their instincts, and thus predictable. Usually, they have no skill in fighting, only 
muscle and ferocity. And in this case, overwhelming numbers." 

"The vampires in southern Mexico realized what was coming for them, and they did the only 
thing they could think of to counteract Benito. They made armies of their own. . . . 

"All hell broke loose - and I mean that more literally than you can possibly imagine. We 
immortals have our histories, too, and this particular war will never be forgotten. Of course, 
it was not a good time to be human in Mexico, either." 

I shuddered. 

"When the body count reached epidemic proportions - in fact, your histories blame a disease 

 

for the population slump - the Volturi finally stepped in. The entire guard came together and 
sought out every newborn in the bottom half of North America. Benito was entrenched in 
Puebla, building his army as quickly as he could in order to take on the prize - Mexico City. 
The Volturi started with him, and then moved on to the rest. 

"Anyone who was found with the newborns was executed immediately, and, since everyone 
was trying to protect themselves from Benito, Mexico was emptied of vampires for a time. 

"The Volturi were cleaning house for almost a year. This was another chapter of our history 
that will always be remembered, though there were very few witnesses left to speak of what 
it was like. I spoke to someone once who had, from a distance, watched what happened 
when they visited CuliacÃ¡n." 

Jasper shuddered. I realized that I had never before seen him either afraid or horrified. This 
was a first. 

"It was enough that the fever for conquest did not spread from the South. The rest of the 
world stayed sane. We owe the Volturi for our present way of life. 

"But when the Volturi went back to Italy, the survivors were quick to stake their claims in 
the South. 

"It didn't take long before covens began to dispute again. There was a lot of bad blood, if 
you'll forgive the expression. Vendettas abounded. The idea of newborns was already there, 
and some were not able to resist. However, the Volturi had not been forgotten, and the 
southern covens were more careful this time. The newborns were selected from the human 
pool with more care, and given more training. They were used circumspectly, and the 
humans remained, for the most part, oblivious. Their creators gave the Volturi no reason to 
return. 

"The wars resumed, but on a smaller scale. Every now and then, someone would go too far, 
speculation would begin in the human newspapers, and the Volturi would return and clean 
out the city. But they let the others, the careful ones, continue. . . ." 

Jasper was staring off into space. 

"That's how you were changed." My realization was a whisper. 

"Yes," he agreed. "When I was human, I lived in Houston, Texas. I was almost seventeen 
years old when I joined the Confederate Army in 1861. I lied to the recruiters and told them I 
was twenty. I was tall enough to get away with it. 

"My military career was short-lived, but very promising. People always . . . liked me, listened 
to what I had to say. My father said it was charisma. Of course, now I know it was probably 
something more. But, whatever the reason, I was promoted quickly through the ranks, over 
older, more experienced men. The Confederate Army was new and scrambling to organize 

 

itself, so that provided opportunities, as well. By the first battle of Galveston - well, it was 
more of a skirmish, really - I was the youngest major in Texas, not even acknowledging my 
real age. 

"I was placed in charge of evacuating the women and children from the city when the 
Union's mortar boats reached the harbor. It took a day to prepare them, and then I left with 
the first column of civilians to convey them to Houston. 

"I remember that one night very clearly. 

"We reached the city after dark. I stayed only long enough to make sure the entire party was 
safely situated. As soon as that was done, I got myself a fresh horse, and I headed back to 
Galveston. There wasn't time to rest. 

"Just a mile outside the city, I found three women on foot. I assumed they were stragglers 
and dismounted at once to offer them my aid. But, when I could see their faces in the dim 
light of the moon, I was stunned into silence. They were, without question, the three most 
beautiful women I had ever seen. 

"They had such pale skin, I remember marveling at it. Even the little black-haired girl, whose 
features were clearly Mexican, was porcelain in the moonlight. They seemed young, all of 
them, still young enough to be called girls. I knew they were not lost members of our party. I 
would have remembered seeing these three. 

"'He's speechless,' the tallest girl said in a lovely, delicate voice - it was like wind chimes. She 
had fair