Wow. I say again for all the amazing reviews. I've learned a couple of things with COH, and one of them is that you guys are the biggest romantics at heart. Ever. Sigh. Me too I guess, which just annoys the crap out of me and is pretty much my biggest secret ever. SO DON'T TELL. This chapter gets down to business. Hold on with me for the next couple of chapters and I should get everything tied up appropriately. I will say this. I now have a much bigger respect for James Patterson and those guys who write for shows like CSI. Mysteries are kinda hard!!!

Thanks to Starshine, OCD and Angstgoddess003.

Here we go:

EPOV

I brushed my hands over the darkened purple spots on Bella's hips.

Bruises.

One on each side, in the shape of my thumb. Perfect, oval blemishes documenting my fingers' trespass on her body. I stared at the dots and let the wave of conflicting emotions run through me as I tentatively touched my cool fingers to the heated contusion. Her skin was tender and inflamed--damaged by my eagerness--tarnished by my lust and lack of control. I stared at them, unblinking, as anger flashed through me, followed by disgust for harming her, even in the smallest way. Inexplicably, in my chest, a greater, more disturbing feeling churned. Pride. I'd marked her as my own. Physically, emotionally, and connectively. I'd made her my mate. I'd mated with her. The thought made my stomach twist with happiness.

The flip side of my emotions was what Bella had done to me. She hadn't physically left her mark on me, but she branded my heart and whatever remnants of my soul she could find. She called my bluff, stood her ground, whispered dirty words to me and lured me into her possession. For everything I had done to her, she gave back to me, in her own, specific, heartfelt way.

I propped my elbow on the bed, and rested my cheek in my palm so I could see her better. Bella was stretched out on the bed, one elbow bent as her hand buried behind her head. She slept heavily, her even breaths signaling the deepness of her slumber. Her hair, a tangled mess, fanned across the pillow like a chaotic halo. I ran my fingers, gently, down her side, porcelain white, satin smooth, and stopped again at the bruises just above the elastic of her underwear. Ignoring the bruises, I allowed my eyes to travel back up her body and found a wayward strand of Bella's hair, plastered to her arm, and picked it up. In less time than it would take to blink, I counted the pieces of hair in my hand. Eighty-four. I was obsessed with knowing every detail of this woman who claimed my heart. As she laid, unaware, I mapped her entire body, and with my eyes closed I challenged myself to place each freckle or mole or scar. I paused and listened. Sixty-eight. The average beat of her resting heart, per minute. Forty-six. The number of eyelashes on her left eye. Fifty-two, the number on her right. I could tell Bella every single, minute detail about her body but I wasn't convinced I could protect her from James.

She shifted in the bed, her toes blindly seeking my legs, and relaxed on contact. Her hand lay open between us and I pushed my nose to it, breathing in the taste of her skin. I thought about those hands, rushing over my body, slick with her sweat. Her sharp, polished nails scratching down my skin, wanting me to feel her. Bella never had to fear my granite skin was unfeeling. It was the opposite; my skin was sensitive to her touch. Every caress, every accidental touch, shot straight through my body like a strike of lightening.

Now, as she slept, unhindered by dreams, her face was smooth, the lines that creased her forehead in fear during our argument were invisible. It was hard to picture this girl, peaceful and serene, as the same from last night. When we made love she'd commanded me, owned me, took me to the edge, both edges, and yanked me back from one, only to shove me willingly over the other.

I thought about that moment, when we crossed the final line, when she accepted me in her body, working with me, carefully, reverently. These thoughts now made me eager… aroused, but I sighed, and pushed the urges aside, as I'm disciplined to do, and waited quietly by her side for her to wake. Because once she did, this new day would begin. When we began looking for Alice. When we hunted James to the death. And I had to figure out how to keep my mate safe in the building storm.

Xxx

Emmett was sitting at my desk, hovering over my computer, jabbing his enormous fingers at the keyboard, trying to make it do something he didn't now how to make it do. Rosalie and Bella were downstairs talking, I surmised, from the voices that carried from below. I closed my mind of them, allowing them privacy. Emmett and I were trying to research and do what we could, while we rode out the good weather and waited for nightfall.

"Stop. You're going to break it." I told him. I had a stack of newspapers I was preparing to spread out and read. I was looking for something to go on. Anything.

"Jasper knows how to do all of this." He muttered, stabbing his thick forefinger at the return key, as if that would make it work. It was the equivalent of hitting the side of a television. Useless.

"He does. But he can't be here now and you know it." I retorted, feeling guilty. Jasper couldn't be here because of me. And Bella.

Emmett's face was grim, but there was an internal struggle going on in his mind. He knew about us-what we had done. I'd read it in his mind the moment he walked in the house. Rosalie too. They knew we had been together, intimately, and they both knew me well enough to understand the result of the situation.

Only you would decide to consummate a relationship in the middle of a war… he thought as he strolled into the room. His thoughts were accusatory, irritable, as they should have been. Bella and I had chosen a selfish time to make our declarations.

I wanted to be angry, roll my eyes and tell him to shut up, but he was exactly right. Only I would do something so moronic.

Was it worth it? He asked, from behind the desk, unable to keep it in any longer.

I nodded curtly. A lump formed in my throat at the thought of being with Bella. On Bella. Inside Bella.

Was it difficult? You know…

I swallowed the lump, so I could speak. "I almost killed her." I confessed, my eyes locking with his, daring him to admonish me. He never would.

"Almost?" He questioned verbally. His eyes were wide, concerned but interested.

"I did. It was just so intense. And her emotions were so high. The blood pumping through her body-it overwhelmed me. You can't imagine." I said honestly.

He shook his head and grimaced, "No. I can't. Thank God." He paused for a minute, his mind deciding where to go next. "How did you stop? What made you stop?"

I ran my hand over the back of my head, feeling the spot where she had yanked me back into submission. "She stopped me. Just like you said, she's stronger than I thought."

We stood quietly for a minute, Emmett thinking about Bella, how brave and powerful she was even though she was human and fragile. An enigma. That is what Bella was to all of us.

I dropped the pile of newspapers on the ground and began sorting them, while Emmett returned to assaulting my keyboard. His mind was rumbling with thoughts. They were erratic and blurry. Images of Alice and the information we had jumbled together even though he was struggling to make sense. I tried my best to ignore him and focus on the task before me.

I heard his chair squeak as he pushed his large frame into the leather. "Edward, how were we so wrong about this? How was this about Alice when we thought it was about you or Bella?" He wondered, picking up the stapler I had on the desk and tossing it into the air, absently.

I was on the ground, kneeling, flipping through the papers. "You mean, how was I so wrong about this?" I corrected. "I have no idea. It seemed I was the target all along, and Bella by association."

Emmett rolled his eyes at my, typical, self-hatred. Which caused him to sigh in irritation. "Okay, let's back up. Tell me again exactly what happened when you and James fought."

I sat on the floor and began to recount the events of the night at the paper mill. We had been over it countless times in the last couple months, but I suppose we were looking at it from a different angle now. I described the mill and the damp, marshy air that filled the night. I told him about the security guard, how his fingers fumbled uselessly with his gun and how we were too late. I reminded him of Laurent and the newborn Riley, who tore his flesh to shreds, leaving him oozing blood on the cement. I left out no detail.

Emmett's eyes grew wide with my retelling, like a child listening to an adventure story and as I illustrated the fight between Jasper and Riley I saw the images form in his own mind. "Jasper wanted Riley alone so he ran off, luring him away from the rest of us, which worked easily on his immature mind. Alice lingered-"I began and stopped cold, frozen as my efforts to push my memory deeper revealed. "Emmett, wait." I breathed, "Before Alice followed Jasper I noticed James was… watching Alice. In fact, looking back, he sort of… licked his lips and for the briefest moment he leered at her." I finished in equal parts disgust, incredulity, and confusion.

I glanced at Emmett and his face became suddenly animated, "He looked her? Like he knew her?"

"Like he wanted her." I clarified, reeling from the thought. He'd shown me his desire and I'd missed it. I wanted to punch the wall.

"Then what happened?" he asked, pulling me away from my anger. He looked eager, as though he didn't already know, word for word, what was coming.

"He taunted me, and the family. He said he had been watching me. Us. He disapproved of our lifestyle choices, the way we mingle with humans and helped them. He seemed especially disgusted with me and Carlisle, referring to him as a masochist." I conveyed, balling my fists as my emotions boiled just thinking about it. I wished I'd done more than rip his arm off that day. My failure was now his gain.

"Did he say anything else about Alice?" Emmett prompted, trying to keep me focused.

"Just that he had been tracking me for some time and that he knew all about my 'work'. He said, 'Oh yes, I know all about your family. Some of them more than others in fact.' And he raised one of his disgusting eyebrows at me tauntingly and sent an image of a dark room, with rows of beds against the walls." I kicked the edge of the desk, jarring the contents on top. "But the image held no connection for me. I still have no idea what it means." I muttered, angrily.

"He was giving you clues all along." Emmett declared. "He basically told you he knew Alice from before. We just need to figure out how and where."

I considered this as a possibility. "You may be right. But what about me and Bella? There has to be some kind of correlation. Include the Quileute's death, and it all stacks back to me. Before we fought he told me clearly, 'All of this, the murders, the kidnappings, it has all been to bring you to me. All of these deaths were to lure you into my game. To teach you a lesson about playing God.'

"Sounds to me like he has an inferiority complex." He said with a pained grin. "It's almost like someone pissed him off, and he couldn't find them, so instead he is placing all his anger on you. On the 'Mythological Vigilante Vampire,' and everything you stand for-which happens to be exactly what he opposes.

I sighed and pinched the bridge of my nose in utter frustration. "This guy is pulling a major mindfuck on me and it's completely working. There has to be something else. Something we're missing." I said. I was completely exasperated. I knew he had been playing with me all along but this was too much. It had been there all along. There was probably more and I was too blind to see it. He was good. I just hoped in the end he wasn't better than me.

Emmett sat forward, placing his hands on the table and stood up excited for the first time by the new lead. With confidence he declared, "If it's here we'll find it. Then we will kick his ass and get our girl back."

Xxx

BPOV

Rosalie and I sat across from one another at the kitchen table. Edward's kitchen table. Our kitchen table? I had a cup of tea in front of me, which I used in an attempt to make my hands less idle. We sat awkwardly, while Emmett and Edward worked upstairs, plotting and planning their next move. As though the gods were mocking the Cullens, the day broke blue skied and sunny. Perfect for humans. Not so much for vampires needing to find a loved one. They were trapped in the house until night fall, so the boys set up shop in Edward's office. Jasper was in Forks with Carlisle and Esme. Everyone was completely frustrated with the lack of leads.

Then there was the situation with me and Edward. We were inappropriately giddy for the circumstances. When Emmett and Rosalie arrived we kept our distance but the tension in the air was thick. We were each stressed and anxious about Alice but after last night, of course, Edward and I were unable to keep our hands away from one another. I finally left the room to research on my own at my desk. Rosalie followed soon after and I suspected Edward sent her down here to keep me company, which really wasn't necessary. I planned on reminding him of this later, when we were alone.

I was really bad at small talk. Especially with a model-like, blonde goddess that made me feel inferior and boring. I suppose when telling your vampire boyfriend you wanted him for eternity this included his family, I thought bitterly.

"Have you heard from Carlisle?" I asked, perfectly aware that she had not.

"No." she responded coolly. Not rudely, just coolly.

I opened my mouth to say something inane about the weather when Rosalie cut me off abruptly, "You and Edward slept together."

It wasn't a question.

I'm quite sure my mouth hung in the air, while hers was pressed into a thin, smug line, her perfect, flaxen hair, waved over her shoulders. She arched an eyebrow and waited.

"Ummm…I'm not sure…"I mumbled, groping for words, "….private…between us…" God. If I could have vampire speed right now I would use it to run from the room and hide.

Rosalie reached across the table and rested her hand on mine. In a softer voice she said, "Its okay, Bella. You need to understand though, there is no such thing as 'private' in this family."

I laughed a little too loud at this, understanding for the first time Edward's desire to move away from his wonderful, unique and very, overbearing family. I felt the crease form between my eyes. "Did he tell you? You don't have some super ability he failed to mention do you?"

She laughed this time, her yellow eyes dancing a little, "No. No 'super abilities', other than the vampire ones. Not to be too graphic but I can smell him on you."

"Oh," I said and slowly pushed my chair back, walking to the refrigerator for something, anything, to do except look her in the face. I opened the door and pushed my head inside, letting the air cool my warmed face. I stood up and turned. "God…really?" I asked.

She nodded from the table, thankfully not moving closer. I watched her nose flare lightly and her big, gold eyes narrowed. "You're bruised. Are you okay?"

My hand reflexively went to my hip, touching the spot I knew was underneath my clothing. Edward pointed it out to me the minute I woke up, apologetic, pressing his lips to it like a cold compress. I'd lifted his head and told him, not to worry, it was a learning curve and we had plenty of time to make sure it never happened again. I buried my face in his chest and I pretended I hadn't seen the look in his eyes. The one saying we didn't have time. The one that said he loved me. The one that worried about Alice.

"No, it's not so bad," and for some reason I lifted my shirt and pulled down my jeans to show her the dark purple blemish. She nodded again, confirming that she saw it and I returned to the refrigerator grabbing a cup of yogurt, then a spoon from a drawer before sitting back down.

She watched me as I peeled off the foil lid and stirred the contents inside, mixing it up, slowly. "Are you aware of what this means to him?" She asked, in a surprisingly kind voice.

I felt tears spring to my eyes, because I did know what this meant to him. And to myself. "I do. I'm not sure what you know about me Rosalie, but I love Edward."

"I can tell. Honestly, anyone who can put up with my insufferable brother must love him." She laughed. "But, I can tell this time he loves you in return. And for our kind, for Edward, this level of intimacy has deeper meaning."

I dropped my eyes, blinking back the moisture before I completely lost it. In a strangled voice I whispered, "I'm his mate."

Peeking sideways I saw her eyes widen at my choice of words. She sat for a moment while I distracted myself from the discomfort of this conversation by shoving heaping spoonfuls of the tart yogurt in my mouth. Her hands were flat on the table and she lightly tapped her surprisingly, short, but perfect nails on the table. "Are you prepared for that, for what it could mean?"

I sighed and licked the remaining yogurt off my spoon and took it over to the sink, washed it thoroughly, and returned it to the drawer. "Rosalie, I don't exactly know what you want but yes, I'm prepared. I love him. I willingly mated, as you call it, with him. I'm ready to take this to the next level, if and when, it is necessary."

"You're prepared to die." She said bluntly.

I had to give it to her. No beating around the bush. I decided to do the same. "I've been prepared to die since the first night I ran into Victoria. Do I want to? No, not yet. I need more time. I want to see my friends and go back to school. I want to eat Thai food, and sleep, and have sex with my boyfriend and fall asleep in his arms." The tears I'd held back before dripped down my face, "I need to see my mom, hug my dad, and go to my class reunions. There are so many things I want to do in this life. But." And I said the word with conviction, "Above all of those things I want Edward. And if it comes down to it I choose him over every other option. I can't go back." I said this with my head up, my eyes locked on her crystal clear gold ones, pushing every word across my tongue with force. I hated justifying myself to her or anyone else.

Rosalie watched my tirade with definite interest. I'd surprised her I think. I'm sure most people were intimidated by her and I was too, but we didn't have the luxury anymore to feel one another out the way people do in 'normal relationships. She leaned back in her chair, and stretched a little, her neck long and regal. "I envy you." She said finally.

Stunned, I snapped my eyes to hers, looking for humor in her expression. There was none. "Excuse me?"

"I do" she answered, the sincerity evident in her voice. "I didn't have a choice. Nor did Edward or the rest of us. I can't imagine being in your position."

I had no response. I couldn't comprehend her revelation. I wondered aloud, "Would you do it again, if you had the opportunity?"

She seemed to consider my words seriously before answering. "Back then? No. I never would have chosen this life. But now? Give up what I have? I couldn't leave Emmett. Ever." Her voice was firm, determined, but I heard the smallest hint of nostalgia in her words.

I nodded and realized we now sat with a level of ease. Knowing better where the other stood on certain matters. It would be presumptuous to say I could understand lifetime of marriage, but who could at the beginning of a relationship. Did time make one relationship more important than the other?

"You're lucky to have Emmett. He's really great." I said, attempting to move past the heaviness of our conversation.

She smiled, "He is. And well, Edward's kind of an ass but honestly, if you make him happy after all this time, who am I to interfere?"

I laughed because it was true, all of it. Edward was kind of an ass, but he made me happy and thinking of our advancements last night I knew I made him happy, even through the anger and fear and desperation. "Rosalie," I said, giving her a rueful grin, "I think, if we make it through this 'alive', you and I will be friends."

Xxx

Later, Rosalie and I climbed the back stairs, and found the boys at the computer. Edward gave me a tense grin as we entered and hopped up to greet me with a kiss at the door. "I missed you," he whispered. It was gruff and I could feel the distress as it gripped his body. His hair was matted from constantly touching it and he had black newsprint ink on the bridge of his nose. The situation was taking its toll. I wanted to smile on his lips and bury myself in him to take away our mutual pain, but it wasn't right. Instead, he hugged me a little longer and I felt his hand slip down the edge of my pants, brushing his fingers coolly against the softness of my bruise.

I refused to let him dwell on my injury and ignored his apologetic touch. Instead, I asked, "Any progress?" loud enough to include Emmett in the conversation.

Emmett was sitting behind the desk, in Edward's chair, while Rosalie had positioned herself in one of the leather chairs across from him. He looked tired, and strained. His normal, bigger than life persona had vanished, over taken by the serious version of Emmett in front of me. "Waiting for the blasted sun to go down. Looking for a direction to go on. We have nothing more than yesterday." He declared with darkened eyes. I'd never seen Emmett upset. He turned from the sweet, goofy, big brother to a scary giant quickly. I felt tiny and weak in his presence. Like he could snap me with a twist of his wrist, which I assumed he could.

Realizing how angry he'd become he relaxed a little and motioned me to the desk. I walked over to see what he was working on. "We're just going over what happened over the last couple of months with James. Trying to figure out what we missed."

"What's that?" I asked, and leaned over the desk, pointing to a plastic bag with several pieces of jewelry on it.

I felt Edward's body press against mine from behind, his hands reaching around me for the bag. "James left these on your door awhile back. Alice and I got to it before you did." I could hear the anger in his voice. He pulled out a long chain with a dangling cross, "This belonged to Bree. She was wearing it in the missing posters."

I reached out and allowed him to let the chain pool in my hand. "Oh." I said, remembering Bree's angry, red eyes just before Edward destroyed her. I stifled a shudder at the memory. I tapped my finger to the other piece of jewelry in the bag. "Who does that belong to?"

Edward cocked his head questioningly, and glanced at Emmett across the desk. "Bella," Emmett said softly, "We thought it belonged to you. It has a 'B' inscribed on it."

I shook my head and took the object, a brooch out of Edward's still hand. "No. It isn't mine. It's beautiful though."

"It isn't yours? Are you sure? I didn't want to concern you and had planned on putting it back in your room before you noticed. It slipped my mind with everything going on." Edward confessed.

Across the room I heard Rosalie sigh, "Of course she's sure. The question is-if it isn't hers, who does it belong to then?"

Edward walked around the desk and began pressing keys on the computer. He trailed his finger down the monitor, and Emmett's eyes rapidly followed his movements. "No one reported a piece of missing jewelry like this. It's so unusual I'm sure someone would have noticed and informed the police."

I turned the piece over in my hand, looking at the intricate craftsmanship. "Look here, under the pin, there's a mark." It was dulled, age having worn it down, and the pin was somewhat tarnished. I handed it over to Edward, hoping he could see it better with his superior eyesight.

"It looks like an H, etched into the silver." He sighed, and tossed the brooch to Emmett who flipped it over to look at the back.

"It's a needle in a haystack but," he paused, running his thumbnail over the marking, "at least we have a needle. It's better than nothing."

We all agreed and discussed how best find the jeweler who created the brooch. Rosalie said she had some experience tracing antiques, since she and Esme had researched some of their personal belongings in the past. "Edward, let me take the brooch downstairs to Bella's desk. I may be able to find something." She informed him, snatching the pin out of his hands and giving Emmett a fast glance which clearly was an invitation to join her.

"Later," Emmett declared and he was at the door in a second, lifting Rosalie by the waist as he pushed her into the hallway.

Edward followed Emmett's example and moved quickly around the desk, picking me up and laying us down on the couch. He moved us so fast my head felt dizzy. I pushed my back against the side of the seat and spread my legs, inviting Edward to rest his head on my stomach. He settled in easily, reaching back for my hand, which I gave to him, while my other buried itself in his messy hair.

"Are you worried?" I asked him, trying to pull him away from his brooding. Although his hands had been connected to me every time we were near one another, his eyes had been distant, brooding. Focused on Alice and James.

He sighed and closed his eyes, as though he was afraid to admit it. I continued to stroke his hair, and eventually he confessed, "Yes. Terrified."

My heart broke a little for this strong, powerful, incredible man lying across my body. He loved his sister so. I felt his thumb move slowly across my wrist as he took another deep breath. "Tell me about her. Alice. Tell me something I don't know."

"Hmmm…" he murmured, obviously thinking. "She's smart. And caring. More human than the rest of us put together."

I laughed and tugged his hair, "Something I don't know."

He looked up at me and said, "When Alice woke up from her transformation she had a vision of Jasper. She traveled on instinct and found him, on her own. She's very strong."

I nodded, understanding his meaning. Alice wouldn't give up easily. "Where was she before that?"

Edward's voice was thick, filled with sorrow for his missing sister. "We're not sure, she doesn't remember, not really. Apparently after she was changed she woke up alone, but her visions gave her some insight. She saw us, the family, and she saw Jasper. It was all she needed."

He twisted and pushed his ear to my chest, resting it directly above my heart. His long arms wrapped around my body, hugging me tightly. "So she woke up from her transformation, which you said takes around three days. Had a vision and found Jasper?"

He nodded into my chest. "Yes."

I was confused. Something about this didn't make sense. "I don't understand. Where did she wake up?"

"It's murky in her mind, although she met Jasper in Philadelphia, she was traveling north. And all those years ago, she had the hint of a southern accent." He said, shrugging, nuzzling his nose in my shirt. "She was disoriented for some reason. Carlisle thinks it was the visions."

We sat quietly for a while. I was consumed by Alice, her history and her current whereabouts. Edward was trying to distract himself with me because there was little he could do at the moment. He stroked my skin, in a comfortable, non-sexual way. The way two people act once they surpass a level of intimacy.

I absently pulled and twisted Edward's thick hair in my fingers. I looked across his room, still fascinated by his history, the objects he chose to carry with him towards the future. I wondered if it was me what would I choose take to remember my past life. Diplomas? Video tape of my third grade dance recital? Journals and pictures? Nothing seemed important enough but at the same time everything held meaning. I had no idea how I would choose. I scanned the room, and my eyes landed on his shelves. I lingered over the baseball we'd discussed and then I saw the photo of Edward and his father. His hair was similar, thick and a little unruly but not as long. Otherwise he looked exactly the same. "Why is your hair so long?" I asked him, breaking the quiet.

"What?" he asked, cracking his right eye, the other still firmly placed on my chest.

I sighed and pointed across the room. "In that picture with your father, your hair is shorter. Why is it so much longer now? I thought hair didn't continue to grow once you transformed."

He rolled over, his back to my stomach, "Oh. Before Carlisle changed me I was sick for quite a while. It grew out in the hospital and when I woke up it was like this. I can't get it to do anything else." He explained, swiping a hand through it, anxiously, trying to make it conform.

I considered this for a moment, my eyes shifting from the photograph to the man in front of me. "So it's the same for everyone else? Their hair is similar to the style they had when they changed?"

"Yes, this is why Jasper's is so long, men used to tie it back. Rosalie and Esme have long hair, which they used to wear up, but trends have changed, and it's more acceptable for them to wear it down." Again he nervously ran his fingers in his hair, adjusting it.

"Stop." I commanded, pushing his hand out of his hair and rubbing it with my own to make it wild. "I like it this way. It suits you."

Growling, he flipped us so I was straddling his hips. I raised an eyebrow and smiled, proud I'd managed to distract him for a minute. He pulled my face to his and softly plucked at my lips. "Why are you talking about hair?" he asked curiously, brushing several stray pieces of my own behind my ear.

I thought of Alice and her short, spiky hair. "Was Alice a flapper?" I mused.

Edward gave me the strangest look. "I doubt it. It wasn't really that common. Why?"

"Why is her hair so short? It wasn't fashionable really, to have it cut so short, at the time, right?" I wondered aloud, thinking of Rosalie's long hair.

"I never really thought about it. Alice was always so different, unique, it just fit her personality." He said thoughtfully, rubbing his thumb under his lip in concentration.

"True." I agreed.

Edward pulled away from me and sat up, pulling my legs into his lap. Surprisingly, he continued to talk about Alice's hair. "Her hair never really fit with the styles of that time period, anyway. Even women with short hair had it cut longer than hers and usually wore it curly or very straight. Even when we first met her hair was spiky and wild."

"They're not 'curls', they were called 'finger waves'," Rosalie shouted from down the stairs.

"She can hear us?" I whispered. He nodded a grimace on his face. "Can you hear her?"

Edward smirked, "Yes, plus, I can read her mind. She thinks I'm an idiot because I don't know the difference between a 'curl' and a 'finger wave' or a 'bob' or something."

The next thing I knew Rosalie was in the doorway, shooting daggers at Edward. She dropped her body back in the chair she'd occupied earlier. "If Edward had ever paid any attention to me or Alice over the years he would have known she was very jealous of my hair."

Rolling his eyes at his sister, he said, "No one is talking about you."

I tilted my head in his direction and made a face for him to stop, "She never wanted short hair?" I asked, intrigued by the information.

"No. Never. Not since I've known her." Rosalie confirmed, tossing her thick, shiny hair over her shoulder to punctuate how glorious her hair was.

I swung my legs over the edge of the couch and leaned closer to Rosalie, "Did your preferences change when you transformed? Like your favorite color...?" I rambled, completely intrigued.

She shook her head and I glanced over at Edward who answered, "No, they stay the same. Blue."

"Red." She said at the same moment.

"So why would Alice have short hair like that if it wasn't fashionable or something she liked?" I prodded, refusing to let it go.

"She had to." Edward said, finally, joining me in my theorizing. "She could have been forced to."

"Maybe she was sick like you?" I offered, feeling a tiny bit of hope in this conversation. If anything it was something new, something to research. That we could do.

He shook his head, "They didn't cut mine. Regular sickness wasn't a reason to cut a person's hair. And the other reasons, like lice, infection, or injury weren't enough to kill you."

I watched as he and Rosalie carried on some kind of silent conversation. It was a series of quick nods, and eye rolls, but she must have said something that impressed Edward because he finally spoke aloud. "Do you think?" he asked.

"It's possible Edward. In this life she's psychic. In that one…" she trailed off.

I jumped in, not understanding, "In that life what? What was she?"

Edward looked at me with cautious eyes, "Insane."

Rosalie chimed in, "Disturbed."

"Unacceptable." He retorted, using air quotes as he spoke.

"Certifiable." She added, pain crossing her face.

"She would have been institutionalized." Edward claimed and Rosalie nodded in agreement.

And like that, Edward was gone, off the couch and out the door. I never even saw him leave, although Rosalie seemed to know what was going on. "He's in the library," she explained, after seeing my bewildered expression. She cocked her ear upwards and continued, "Getting a book."

"Okay," I said, having no idea how to respond, but before I could Edward was back in the room, a large, leather bound book in his hands. Emmett was trailing behind with a totally confused look on his face.

"What's he doing?" he asked looking between me and Rosalie.

"I have no idea." I answered truthfully.

Edward sat on the couch with the book open on his lap, flipping through pages until he abruptly stopped. His long, artistic fingers, scrolled down the page, pausing for a moment here or there when he saw something interesting. It was a medical journal, old, it appeared, since there were no photographs just illustrations and even I could smell the years of dust rolling off the pages. I leaned closer to see what was on the page and I found it was full of medical jargon and beautiful illustrations. In the middle of the page was a graphic design of a person, with shorn hair. There were intricate diagrams of the body, brain and tools used. It looked archaic. Barbaric and terrifying.

Edward stopped and handed the book to Rosalie. Emmett moved closer to read the information on the page and he looked over at Edward and blinked twice before saying, cryptically, "The beds."

Edward reached for my hand across the space in the couch, and wove his hard, cool fingers through mine. The room was silent other than the beating of my human heart, and I waited to hear exactly what was going on. Beds? Madness? I was three steps behind the mental speed of the vampires in the room.

Brushing his thumb across my hand, Edward looked at Emmett and Rosalie and announced, "We have to call Carlisle."

Okkkay. Please let me know how you feel about this chapter-I'm eager to hear.

By the way, a couple fics I'm reading (some you probably are too) Tropic of Virgo is kinda owning my soul right now and Inked is like…guh. One of the hottest Edwards yet. He has tattoos. Lots of them. swoon. Check em' out.