A/N Thanks again to prettypinkbookworm for her beta read

CHAPTER 4

Midnight came. Edward met me at the back door. He looked me up and down and I smiled prettily, smoothing down my skirts.

"Can you run in that?" he asked, frowning.

"Try me," I growled, glowering at him for his lack of appreciation.

He ran ahead of me, darting in and out of back alleys until we reached the outskirts of town. We darted past farms and finally headed deeper into the woods. The occasional glance of moonlight set his skin sparkling. The beauty of it, and the exhilaration of our speed, heightened my anticipation.

Suddenly he slowed to a walk.

"Here we are," he said, gesturing ahead to a small dirt clearing. Even from that distance, I could clearly see the enormous pig tied to a tree. The pig quivered and squealed, shrinking against the underbrush as we approached.

"You brought me all the way out here tonight to see a pig?" He had some nerve.

"Most people don't realize it, but a pig's musculature and anatomy is the closest approximation of a human's of any domestic animal."

I stared at him blankly.

He grinned, a look of mischief lighting his face. "I thought that perhaps it would be wise for you to try your hand at this neck-breaking business, just to be sure it is as neat and clean as you have envisioned. This pig is over a hundred and fifty pounds; it should give you a fairly good approximation of some of those boys."

I settled myself down on a stump. "Honestly, Edward." I swung my foot impatiently. He just stood there, grinning like a fool.

"Wherever did you get such a thing?" I demanded, doing my best to sound above it all. "I can't imagine that a pig that enormous goes missing without a farmer noticing."

"I have my ways," he replied, his smile deepening as he crossed his arms. "And I can keep getting them, too. That is, unless you prove me wrong and you don't need to perfect your technique."

His eyes narrowed as he watched me, but the smile never left his face.

"Fine," I spat, rising from the stump. "Step aside."

"Would you like me to untie the hog?" he offered politely.

"No, thank you," I said formally. "That won't be necessary. I plan to tie my victims up before I kill them."

"Very well," he said, stepping to the edge of the clearing, his face an expressionless mask.

I stepped gingerly toward the pig. It was white with black spots with big bushy hair sprouting up all over it. It was truly a hideous thing. Good, I thought. I can concentrate on how ugly it is. I need to hate it, just like I hate them.

The pig cowered and I circled.

"Just a quick snap and it will all be over," I said, more to myself than to Edward.

"Yes," Edward said, his smooth voice floating across the clearing to me. "The pig is lucky, for its death will be fast and painless. I imagine Royce and the others will suffer. They will need to pay for what they've done to you, won't they?"

Edward's words stuck in my brainandI felt my ire rising. I looked at the pig, but it wasn't the animal that I saw. It was the faces of my attackers, the mean look in their eyes as they forced themselves upon me. My anger surged, fresh as the night I'd woken up a vampire, unable to count on even the blessing of sleep to block out the horror of my violation.

The scent of the pig's blood wafted across the night air. I could smell its fear. My instincts heightened. Shame and anger burned in my brain, competing with the rush of venom in my mouth for my attention. In my mind, I heard the men's taunts and felt the wet snow on my back. I dove in for the kill.

My arms wrapped around the pig and I pulled it on its hind legs. I'll show you, Edward. This pig is nothing! Just like those men will be nothing. The pig's high-pitched squeals echoed in the recesses of my mind, making it hard to concentrate as it struggled against me. The beating of the pig's heart thundered in my ears, tempting me. I tightened my grip, jerking and twisting the neck violently.

Through my confusion, I heard a distinct crunch, followed by a pop.

The squeals suddenly stopped. The crushed head of the pig was flying across the clearing, showering the dirt with blood and brains. Thick, heady blood spurted everywhere from the gaping hole I'd left at the neck, leaving my face and arms slick. I sucked in my breath, throwing the carcass to the ground, my instincts racing wildly between disgust and desire.

"Mmm. Smells like chicken," Edward commented dryly from the sidelines.

"Shut up, Edward," I spat through my teeth. I hated being proven wrong, especially when it was Edward who was right.

"Perhaps it is not so easy, is it?" he wondered out loud, covering the distance between us in a second. "Just think if this had been a human, Rosalie," he challenged, breathing softly in my ear. "What would happen next? Would you be lapping up the blood from the dirt? Would the police find you the next morning, drunk with blood lust?"

I looked down at my dress. It was drenched with blood and covered with things I didn't even recognize. Yet even though the blood was already dead, the smell of it tempted me. I couldn't keep my nostrils from flaring as the wind wafted up the odor of the pig's wasted essence.

Edward caught my eye. My movement had given me away. I stood speechless before him. My body sagged, limp with disappointment.

He reached up and flicked a piece of gore out of my hair, letting his hand rest in my hair. I lifted my eyes, expecting to see the familiar look of admiration.

All I saw was pity.

I stepped away from him, confused.

"If you insist on doing this, you have to do it right." He dropped his hand and looked down at me sternly, his shoulders square and straight. "I'll help you. Not because I want you to do this, but because I know I can't stop you. But you have to do it my way."

"Which means?" I asked wearily.

"Which means, for starters, that you will be training with pigs until you can manage to keep the pigs in one piece when you kill them. Nothing else until then. No stalking. No searching for the Georgian. Nothing.

"Do you accept this condition?" He searched my face.

"Fine," I said bitterly, slumping down on the stump. I couldn't think of any other way, given he constantly watched me and could read my mind at will.

"It's not so bad, is it?" he said, a smile lighting his face. "It's better for you than for the pigs of Rochester," he joked. I looked up at him bleakly. I felt uneasy, but couldn't pinpoint why. Why couldn't I recognize my own emotions?

The stern look in Edward's eyes melted away. "You don't have the physical cues you relied on as a human. No flush of cheek to signal embarrassment. No heart, beating and bursting out of your heart, to affirm that you are angry." He stretched out a hand to help me up. "Let's go home."

I was still confused. What I felt was unfamiliar; the strange, unsettled feeling that had crept under my skin burrowed deeper, refusing to give way to Edward's explanation.

But in the back of my mind, a little satisfied voice said, at least he isn't stopping you from getting what you want.

Slowly, I reached out to take his hand. I tossed my curls and smiled at him as brilliantly as I could. But not even the thrill of the run home could not help me shake the feeling that, once again, something was irreversibly shifting in my world.