Chapter Two

Carlisle looked at the newcomer with fresh surprise. "I wasn't aware that you had a…"

"I thought he'd died with the rest of them, a long time ago," she replied in a whisper.

William turned away, waiting for his cold, colorless cheeks to flush with shame. Of course, he knew they wouldn't. Vampires were soulless. They couldn't feel. Then why did his heart ache so much? She wishes I was dead, he thought sorrowfully, Of course she does. I would. As he turned, his eyes met the werewolves, who'd been advancing slowly all the while.

He stiffened.

"Don't worry," said Edward. "They're friends. Jacob?"

The alpha wolf growled in response and turned around, disappearing with his pack into the dark forest.

"Werewolves," muttered William under his breath.

Edward laughed. "You'd get on extremely well with him, I think. Jacob, I mean. But why don't you come and have dinner with me and my family."

At the word 'dinner' William raised his eyebrow slightly.

Edward laughed again. This time there was a trace of embarrassment. "Listen," he said, "I'm sorry I attacked you. I, well…"

"Of course," said William quickly, "I understand. Considering what it looked like from your point of view. But just so you know, I wasn't going to…" He cleared his throat. "I wasn't going to kill her."

Bella stepped forward now, smiling. "I'm glad he was there, though," she said, laughing, "I haven't seen a vampire as strong as you since Emmett!"

He almost flushed. "Thanks. I've had a lot of practice, though," he added grudgingly.

At the words Edward and his wife suddenly became aware of the fierce, red eyes that almost seemed to challenge them without the knowledge of their owner. Edward stiffened, unsure of how to answer.

"Well," interrupted Carlisle with a kind smile, "I'm sure you would like to meet the rest of the family. I'll let you have a moment with your sister." He nodded to Edward and Bella, who vanished into the forest without a word. "We'll be at the house," said the doctor, and then he was gone.

William stood alone with his sister, feeling terribly helpless, almost reluctant to be left with her. Rosalie was silent.

Finally, he ventured to murmur, "Hello Rosalie." Just a simple hello. That was all it took. She turned on him, her golden eyes flaming.

"Why are you alive?" she demanded.

"Well, I could go to the Volturi and kill myself if you want," he answered, his temper flaring.

"What are you talking about?"

She looked confused, hesitant. An innocent façade, of course. "You're upset, aren't you?" he challenged, stepping close enough for her to see his red eyes blazing. "You wish I was dead with Papa and Mother!"

Rosalie stared at him, surprised. "What? No, of course not! What are you thinking? I would never wish that!"

William's eyes widened. "What?"

His sister scowled. "Why in the world would you think that? William Hale, never ever say that again! Or think it! I'm your sister, and you think I wish you were DEAD?! What do you take me for, a cold, cruel-hearted monster?"

Slowly, William's anger drained away. Sorrow took its place. They were the only two emotions he had felt for a long time now. "A cold, cruel-hearted monster," he said softly, almost crooning out the words. "That's what I am."

At last Rosalie understood. Maybe it was the tone of his voice, the inexpressible sorrow. Maybe it was because she was his sister, because she just understood him. Either way, she sighed. "You wish you were human, don't you? You wish you were dead."

William nodded, staring at the ground grimly.

"Do you wish I was dead?"

He looked up quickly. "No," he whispered. "I thought you were dead. It was the worst thing I ever went through. When you," he grit his teeth, "disappeared, I got so mad. I got so mad at… at him. That fellow you were engaged to. I found him and threw him into jail after… after what he did to you. He wouldn't confess anything, but his friends did it for him. And then I got news that he'd suddenly died," he said quietly, looking curiously into Rosalie's eyes as he said the words. "After that, life went on. Except that Mother was always crying. And Papa hardly spoke. Our life went on but we never stopped grieving for you."

"How'd it happen, Will? How'd you die?" murmured Rosalie softly, looking at the ground as she spoke.

William took a deep breath. "I don't want to talk about it," he mumbled, kicking the grass.

"Please, Will," she whispered. When he looked up, William could see the pain in her face. He sighed.

"I had no idea what kind of world I was living in," he began quietly. "That those beautiful people weren't people at all. The Cullens were there. Do you remember?"

She nodded faintly. "Dr. Cullen… he's the one who turned me…"

"Yes. When the Cullens left, these new people arrived. Like the Cullens before them, they were vampires. Of course, to us they were just extraordinarily beautiful people bringing with them the fashions of the city. The town was in an uproar, so excited to visit these newcomers. They seemed friendly enough, inviting everyone to their ball. We came, hoping to bring back our life, our, well, vitality.

"They were beautiful. Breathtakingly beautiful. But our admiration didn't last. Without a word, without even a single warning, they started attacking everyone. Mother died instantly. I didn't see what happened to Father. I couldn't. I just felt this searing pain. I couldn't think. I saw a face, a girl's face. Her eyes were so red…"

As Rosalie listened, her face turned even paler than before, if it was possible. "Who did it?" she said fiercely.

William looked up from his reverie. "Rosalie, don't. It doesn't matter anymore—"

"Who—did—it?" she said again behind her clenched teeth.

He looked up at her sadly, relenting, "You know them as well as I do. It was the Volturi."

Rosalie had somehow knew this was coming; she had braced herself for the truth. And yet when she heard the words she shivered, not out of fear but sheer anger. She hissed, her eyes snapping. "Who was the girl, Will? Who was the girl that turned you?"

"Rosalie, please. What's done is done."

She closed her eyes, her hands closing into trembling fists. In a second he was at her side; his red eyes softened with worry. "Rosalie," he whispered gently, taking her shaking hand into his. "I'm alright. Really."

Rosalie looked up into her brother's eyes, and her heart ached as she saw the quiet, grim man in front of her. He was no longer her little, innocent William. She knew that those fierce, red eyes—though anxious and gentle at the moment—had seen so much, even more than her perhaps. The weight of the world seemed to bend his very shoulders.

With the realization that she had lost that little William, she clutched his hand and fell into his embrace, unwilling to look into those sorrowful eyes. If a vampire could weep, her name would have been Rosalie Hale, the girl who lost her brother.