"No more," Esme said firmly. "We are going to hunt."

Dammit, I thought. But I went to please her. Esme's feelings were the only ones that I cared about at all.

I spoke very little as we made our way into the forest. I was glad that Esme felt the need to go further than our earlier expedition. I hoped that the distance would keep Edward out of my head. And I had some serious thinking to do.

But Esme was not to be deterred from saying what she wanted to say. "I know that you're very angry that your human life has ended. But this life is going to be what you make of it. It can be peaceful, full of beauty and love, or it can be full of anger and violence. In the long run, you're going to yearn for peace. The more you give in to your thoughts of anger and revenge, the harder that peace will be to find."

I really didn't care about what she was saying. I didn't want peace. I wanted only to take the lives of the men, both human and incubus, who had made me this creature.

And the first step was to go to my funeral, to find where the cockroaches were hiding so I could snuff out their miserable existences. I would remove them from the face of the earth. I would make them suffer.

I knew I would probably be buried at the Presbyterian church where I was to be married. After all, I knew the church would be free. The bride was dead. There was a spot in the woods near the water where I would probably be able to see the churchyard. I could watch at a distance, and if the wind were favorable, I probably wouldn't be bothered by the scents of the humans there at my graveside. I would just have to find the moment to slip away. If my mother were busy burying me, the house would probably be empty. I could pay a visit there if I needed.

The thoughts and plans kept coming. I didn't need to focus my whole attention on catching the couple of deer that I drained before we turned to go back to the house. We may have been across the Canadian border by the point that I caught a bobcat and drained it.

Esme watched me closely. She was clearly disturbed by my silence, but she didn't seem to want to intrude. I continued thinking, planning out the day of my funeral. The most difficult part, I knew, was going to be walking away from the house without Edward finding out. If I could arrange a hunting trip with Carlisle, he would probably give me some additional space, especially if I expressed a need for it. I could turn his cloying sympathies to my advantage. If we were a good distance away, I might be able to slip away before Carlisle could notice.

No one would suspect where I was going but Edward, and hopefully by the time he found out that I was gone, I'd be most of the way to Rochester. To see my beloved Royce. I'd have to improvise most of the plan to avoid Edward's meddling, but I thought the bones of the plan I'd come up with while drinking my fill were good.

I tried, on the trip back, to slow myself, and speak more with Esme, to fill my head with thoughts of our conversation to disguise the thoughts I'd had in the forest.

"Esme, when did you stop being so angry?"

"I don't know that I was ever as angry as you, dear. I was mostly sad. I didn't really care much about what had happened to me. The grief I felt for my child was paramount. But that faded when I found that I loved Carlisle. The wounds healed when I found something that made my existence feel more like…life."

I didn't think I had that opportunity. I certainly was never going to love Edward.

"What if that hadn't happened for you? What do you think your life would be like now?"

"I don't really know how to answer that. Carlisle is so much a part of who I am and what my life has become that I can't separate things out that way," she said, but she paused to consider my question. "I was very sad before. I would probably be that way still. Time does not heal a vampire. Something else must change us. A sudden, monumental shift in everything that you thought was important." She looked at me steadily, even though we were still running slowly, at a human pace.

"It's not possible for me, then," I said matter-of-factly.

"Why would that be, Rosalie? You are going to live for a very long time, possibly forever. None of us can see what is coming. There may well be something out there that will fill the holes in your heart."

"My heart," I said bitterly.

"It is still there," Esme said softly. "It may no longer beat, but it is there. Time will not heal the bitterness you feel, but something else may. And that is something that time may bring. In the meantime, you have a family who loves you and unlimited time and resources to pursue anything that you might like. Learning has been a passion of mine since I was turned. In my human life, I had only completed through the eighth grade before I left to work on the farm. Two years later, I was married. So I've completed high school and been to college for an architecture degree. We all love to learn. Edward has been to college three times already. There may be something that you like to do. "

"Maybe I'll take up knitting," I said sarcastically.

"Why not?" Esme chuckled. "I think I learned five years after I'd turned. We never get cold, but the motions are soothing. And the nurses who work with Carlisle really appreciate the socks."

I laughed. Esme was nothing if not selfless. "Maybe you can teach me. I have always had a fondness for hats."

Esme and I chatted about the things that she did to pass the time all the way back to the house. She promised me yarn and paints and books and fabrics, anything that I might like to try. I agreed to everything. I really didn't want to get bored, and the time with Esme would keep my mind occupied around Edward. But I had no real interest in learning any of the arts that Esme was so passionate about. I wanted only to kill. And killing and knitting just didn't seem to mesh.

When we approached the house, I could hear muffled voices inside suddenly cease. I knew that they had continued their discussion of the incubus in my absence. I tried to focus on Esme's current chatter about her passion for historical architecture. I didn't want any of my thoughts to get plucked out of my head.

It seemed to work. Edward seemed preoccupied when we entered the house, and he didn't look up as I entered the room. He was pouring over a manuscript with Carlisle. The paper seemed very old, perhaps centuries old.

Esme was already calling me over to a large table near the fire. She had roll after roll of drawings and sketches to show me. Her face seemed to glow with passion as she unrolled drawings by architect after architect, some I'd heard of and some I hadn't, interspersing her proud show with comments: "Carlisle found me this drawing by Sir Christopher Wren a few years ago. This one is by Thomas Jefferson. This is a Lord Burlington. William Morris. Gustave Eiffel. Otto Wagner." It meant very little to me, but I smiled and nodded. The drawings themselves were startling, most in the artists' own hands. Even I was impressed that she had construction drawings for the Eiffel Tower.

Her collection included more modern buildings, too, and my interest was piqued when I saw these: the Chrysler building and the Empire State Building, both finished the year before; a beautiful house called the D.D. Martin House by an architect I'd never heard of, Frank Lloyd Wright; sketches of furniture by Gustav Stickley. "I actually own that Stickley chair," she said, gesturing from a drawing to a rocking chair in the corner.

I began to be interested, if only because Esme's passion was so strong that it was catching. It was useful to mask thoughts I didn't want Edward to hear. "Tell me about this one," I said, gesturing to the Frank Lloyd Wright. She automatically launched into a lecture about her love of Wright's work. I just let my mind relax and soak in everything she said.

Soon, I realized that the sun was rising outside. The sky had begun to turn pink, and Carlisle had excused himself to begin changing for work. "He likes to get an early start," Esme explained, as I looked startled.

"I just hadn't realized that so much time had passed." I was honestly shocked. Esme's conversation had been so engrossing that I hadn't noticed time passing. And without human tiredness to let me know, we had easily spent the whole night stooped over Esme's collection of drawings.

"What do you do all day?" I asked her.

"It varies. I study, sometimes I have design projects that I work on. Edward always has his music, his books. Sometimes we travel…sometimes to hunt, sometimes just for its own sake. It's actually a very rich life that we lead. We take jobs when we care to. Sometimes Edward goes to high school, to college. He's completed high school here, so we'll probably be moving on in another ten years or so. People start to notice that you don't age."

"So where else have you lived?" I asked. I hadn't thought about the possibility of needing to move.

"We have houses in a number of places: Alaska, Washington State, Maine, Tennessee, Canada, Wales. We need a fair number of overcast days or a low population density. Humans do tend to notice the sparkling." She smiled. "We usually purchase a home in an area. After a generation or two, we can revisit them, and we have a home already prepared. We moved from Forks, Washington, a few years ago. We have a home there, and we'll return to it one day."

That didn't sound so bad, really. It was kind of nice knowing that you had a home already waiting for you. "Are all the houses as beautiful as this one?"

"I'd like to think so. Carlisle does give me free reign to design and renovate as I wish." She smiled.

"What are you planning to do today?" I asked.

"Right now, I work with the City to renovate some of the older residences. Right now, the fashion is to tear down and build more modern, but I try my best to talk them out of it whenever I can. And I try to help them work with better architects to make their modern buildings more aesthetically appealing. I have a meeting in town later today, so I'll leave you with Edward for part of the day. Do you think you two can get along?" Esme looked a little nervous.

"I think I can manage," I said.

"Good. I was planning to let him take you hunting in a little while," she said.

"Actually, do you think that Carlisle would have time before he leaves? I think I was rude to him yesterday, and I'd like to apologize," I said, attempting a nonchalance I didn't really feel.

"I'll ask," she said, smiling. She was pleased that I wanted to spend time with Carlisle.

I worked on emptying my mind of any thoughts that might give me away. I must have been successful, because soon Carlisle was standing at my elbow, and Edward was nowhere to be found.

"You do have time, don't you, Carlisle?" I asked, feigning interest in his schedule.

"Of course, Rose. I don't have to be early every day. Perhaps today I'll run late and merely be on time." He smiled.

"Thank you."

We left the house, waving back at a very happy Esme on the porch. Carlisle laughed quietly. "She does want us all to get along," he said, smiling.

"She is a very kind woman," I agreed.

"Yes, she is. She has the sweetest spirit of anyone I've ever known."

"You love her very much," I said. It was not a question.

"Yes, I do. We have healed each other in ways that I didn't know were possible." Carlisle looked at me, the annoying pity beginning to edge its way across his handsome face.

Best to head that off before the fury built up again. "So, is Edward going to college again now that he's been out of high school for a few years?"

"That's really up to Edward. I imagine that your joining our family will change our plans somewhat. We won't be able to stay where you're so easily recognized. Esme told you about our other homes?" He looked at me for confirmation.

"Yes. Where were you planning to go next?" I asked.

"We were thinking about our house in the Smoky Mountains," Carlisle replied. "Esme has been working on it off and on for a number of years. We haven't lived in it permanently yet. It was an old cabin in a fairly remote area. There's a new national park nearby now, but our cabin is high on a ridge, and not many people even really realize that it's there. We get the occasional hunter who stumbles by, but your self-control will grow enough that they won't be that much temptation. I think you'll like it there. It's quite beautiful, and my skills as a doctor are in high demand."

I hadn't heard of the Smoky Mountains before. They sounded beautiful.

We continued small talk while we ran. "Carlisle?" I finally asked when I thought we were a good distance from the house.

"Yes, Rosalie?"

"I would be a little more comfortable if we hunted further away from one another." Carlisle looked oddly sad at the thought. I quickly added, "I just mean that I feel a little vulnerable when I hunt. I'd just like to do that part alone."

His face eased somewhat, but he still looked a little hurt. When he said, "I understand," it really seemed as if he did.

"Thank you." I was going to feel a little guilty for leaving him alone in the woods, but I was determined to see my funeral. "I'm just going to run east for a while. I think I smell some deer over that way."

"All right," he said, a little uneasily. But I took the opportunity and ran, quickly, east. I ran as fast as I could, a speed that created a wind that whipped the trees around me like a summer thunderstorm. As soon as I thought I'd run five or six miles, I turned north toward the lake. I took a deer quickly, draining him dry in a matter of seconds, and continued on. Another couple of miles, and I was on the hillside overlooking the church. Luck was with me: the wind was blowing the scent of the humans away from me.

I didn't know if Carlisle could or would follow my scent. I hoped that the speed and the wind I'd created had dissipated it a little. I didn't really know at the time, but I'd hoped. I settled down in the shade of a tree.

I could see everything that was happening around the church. Men were finishing digging my grave in the churchyard out back. I was surprised to see that I could see a great deal happening inside the church through the windows. I could see the minister preparing himself by the light of his study window. I could see women in the church hall setting out a luncheon for my grieving family. I wondered if Royce would be eating there, with my mother. The thought made me unspeakably angry, but I choked back the growls that were rising in my chest.

I sat for a fairly long time. The sun shifted position, coming overhead. It was fast approaching early afternoon when mourners began to arrive at the church. People trickled in, more people than I'd ever seen at a single event. More people than would have come to the wedding, I thought to myself, and the thought made me even more bitter.

I was so involved watching the people arrive and naming them all to myself that I didn't stop to wonder why my plan was going so well. I didn't smell anyone behind me, and no one spoke until I leapt to my feet with a hiss when Royce arrived at my funeral. Then strong icy hands gripped my arms.

"I don't think so," Edward hissed in my ear.

"What the hell are you doing here?" I hissed back, growls emerging from my chest.

"Carlisle came to get me when you didn't come back. He actually believed the bullshit that you handed him about feeling vulnerable around him. He actually gives a shit about you." Edward was furious, and he wasn't letting go of me.

"Is that supposed to make me feel guilty?" I spat in his direction. I was still looking down at Royce's sobbing figure. He was actually crying over my grave. Anger took over every fiber of my being. I could barely see through the red fury that clouded my sight. And still Edward held onto me.

"I don't give a shit what you're feeling right now. You are putting us all at risk with this selfish behavior."

"Fuck you, Edward. Fuck you all. My murderer is down there."

"Yes, he is, and so is your mother. So is your father, your sister, Vera, Henry…" he continued listing off all of my relatives and friends, picking them out of my head.

"Stop that," I nearly shouted. "My thoughts are private."

"I wish they were," he growled back at me with disdain.

"If my thoughts disgust you, then go where you can't fucking hear them, you piece of shit bastard!"

"You can't go down there. The smell may be tolerable here where the wind is helping you, but if you were to go down there, you'd kill everyone that you came in contact with. You'd feed on everyone at that funeral. Can you imagine? Can you imagine the horror for your mother if her dead daughter came back to slaughter everyone she used to care about? Can you imagine what it would be like to kill your own mother?" Edward demanded. He was beginning to get my attention, but I could still see Royce's fat fucking crocodile tears. "And you will expose all of us. Trust me, the Volturi will not give a shit that you are a newborn. They'll burn you just the same."

"He fucking killed me, Edward. And he's sitting there crying over my grave. Fucking crying for someone to help him. I fucking called out to him when John broke every bone in my body, and do you know what he did? He fucking laughed and took another sip from his flask. He laughed at me while that monster raped me and killed me. And now he's down there." I looked wildly down at the scene in front of me, just in time to see my mother go up to Royce and wrap an arm around his waist. Everything went black for a moment, and I howled wildly, pulling against Edward's restraining arms. I wanted to rip Royce to shreds, into tiny pieces. My mother looked up at the hillside where I was standing just as I felt my body fly through the air. My body crashed against a tree, and it snapped off at the base. Edward had flung me back into the woods.

And now he was standing between me and my prey.

"What makes you think I won't kill you too, brother?" I hissed.

"I know you will try," he said calmly.

I lunged forward, determined to fling him out of my way, but he was fast, lunging aside and grabbing a fistful of my hair to fling me back further. I reached out a hand and managed to punch him in the jaw. I felt something break in his face with a screech.

I liked it.

I lunged at him again. Again he stepped aside, but he grabbed my arm, quickly pinning them behind me. I howled again in frustration. He knew each move I was going to make before I made it. He had the advantage, even if I was stronger. If I couldn't beat him, I was at least going to leave my mark.

My hands were somewhat free. He gripped me near my elbows. I lunged quickly to the side, reaching my hand back to grip one of his arms, his shirt, anything.

I got only sleeve, but I pulled it with such force that it ripped, jerking his arm away from mine. I spun quickly, grabbing his other arm. He tried to block me with his forearm, and our arms clashed together with a monstrous rumble. His attention shifted for a moment, probably in response to the thoughts drifting our way from the funeral below. It was all I needed.

I reached and managed to grab his arm. I lifted it behind him, pushing his body forward until we both tumbled to the ground. I leapt up as Edward tried to as well, and kicked him in the back. One sickening screech, and I was left holding Edward's arm.

"Dammit, Rosalie," Edward groaned. "Fuck! Fuck!" He was clearly in pain.

I felt bad about that. "What do I do?" I was starting to panic. I really hadn't meant for it to go that far.

"Get the fuck back to the house. Get Carlisle! Fuck! Goddamn it!"

He was starting to very nearly scream in pain. His arm wriggled in my grasp, shuddering. The fingers of his hand reached toward the rest of his body.

"What do I do with the arm?" I asked.

"Give it back to me, you bitch!"

I snarled. The anger rose in me again. I threw the arm at him. It hit him hard on the side of his head. "Fuck you!"

"Excuse me?" Edward was beginning to sound hysterical. "You ripped my arm off, and you're seriously going to get mad at me for calling you a bitch? Goddamn, you are a piece of work." He laughed bitterly.

I walked closer to him, pacing around him like a lioness around her prey. I finally leaned in close. "Get Carlisle yourself, asshole."

Edward reached up with his good hand and grabbed a fistful of my hair. "I wish Carlisle had never turned you." With a surprisingly strong wrench, he tore that chunk of hair out by the roots.

I screamed, so loudly that the trees around me bent double as if in a gale. The mourners below looked up at the sky uneasily, clearly of the impression that a storm was coming.

It was.

"I'll kill you if you ever fucking touch me again." I was shouting. The hairpulling reminded me of Royce ripping my hat from my head. "I will kill you and burn your worthless carcass. You are no better than that piece of shit down there. No, you're worse, walking around like you're so much above the rest of us. Like you haven't committed murder in your life. You will not get in my way. I'm going to kill Royce, I'm going to kill every one of his raping, murdering friends, and when I'm done, I'm going to kill John. I don't give a shit what he is. I'm going to find him and kill him. I'm going to make every one of them sorry that they ever even thought about hurting me. I will be damned if they will ever hurt someone else again, and I will not rest until every fucking one of them is dead and buried. And I swear by all that is holy that if you ever get in my way again, I'll rip off a hell of a lot more than your fucking arm."

I was panting raggedly, almost hyperventilating. I was absolutely hysterical.

And then a calm presence was behind me. I snarled and spun around, ready to rip apart the intruder.

I froze in my crouch. It was Esme. She had her hands uplifted in front of her, as if she'd need to defend herself against me. I was panting, each fiber of my being on fire with anger and grief. I was suddenly bent double under the weight of it, and I sank to my knees. Tears ran down my face. These were so different from human tears, ice cold even to my senses. She came to me and sank to her knees in front of me. She stroked my hair and kissed my forehead, sweet gestures with which I was totally unfamiliar. Slowly my breathing began to calm, and she turned her attention to Edward, who was huddled over his dismembered arm, looking at us in disbelief.

Esme stood quickly, ripping off the bottom foot or so of the skirt she was wearing. "Edward, please give me your shirt." Edward took off the tattered remains of his shirt, and Esme quickly knotted the strip and shirt together. She knelt beside him, took up the arm. "Hold this in place for me," she said softly. She wrapped the makeshift bandage around his shoulder and again around his waist, bracing the arm against his body. "Your venom will start reconnecting your arm soon. It won't be comfortable. I understand from Carlisle it stings quite a bit. We'll help you get back to the house. Rosalie?"

I understood at once she was asking for my help. I was frozen. Edward was enemy still, and she wanted my help to get him home. To a home we were supposed to share. "Rosalie, I can't do it without you. Please help me." Esme was insistent, but I also felt the choice implicit in her words. I could help and return home, or I could refuse and go my own way. Alone. I closed my eyes, needing time to sort through the feelings that were choking me.

I hated Edward with every fiber of my being. And I was certain he hated me. Carlisle, I didn't really care about. I felt slightly guilty because he had, in a sense, saved me, but if he hadn't, I would actually be in the box that they were burying in the valley below. I wouldn't be here, caught in the grasp of emotions that I didn't really understand. The turmoil would have ended. And I saw no end in sight. I couldn't forgive him for the agony I was going through, agony to which he'd played so great a part. But I would try to forgive them both so that I could stay with Esme. She was so kind and gentle, everything I'd never known humans to be. She was the center of my new world, and I couldn't bear to be without her.

I nodded tightly, without opening my eyes. When I finally did, she was looking at me with that curious mixture of empathy and love. She knew how I felt, I knew. It was the empty sympathy that Carlisle gave me. She really did know.

I walked slowly over, took Edward's good arm, and wrapped it around my shoulders. I had to work very hard to go slowly enough for Esme and Edward, but lifting him was no problem. I probably could have lifted him in my arms with no trouble, but I couldn't bear to do it, and Esme would never have asked.

We made our way slowly – well, slowly for us – back to the house. Carlisle was waiting for us. He was late for work.

"I see you two had some trouble," he said matter-of-factly. He didn't meet my eye. He quickly looked over the bandaging that Esme had done. "Well done, Esme. I have nurses who couldn't do better." He kissed her gently and turned to Edward and me.

"We'll have to talk about this later. I'm sure Esme has a thing or two she'd like to say to you. Edward, try to keep still for the rest of the day. The wound is already starting to bind. You should be healed by the evening. Rosalie, please stick close to the house. And try not to rip the limbs off of anyone else today, please." He smiled a tight smile, clearly annoyed at being late, but I didn't sense any real anger in him. I couldn't understand that.

"Well, since it's too late for my meeting, Rosalie, why don't we leave Edward to rest, and you tell me what happened today?" Esme said softly, only the slightest note of disapproval edging into her voice. She led me quietly but firmly out of the room. I looked back over my shoulder and saw Edward smiling smugly at me. I had a temptation to stick my tongue out at him, but I resisted. Instead, I rolled my eyes and followed Esme. My mother. I wondered how much trouble I was in, and what the punishment would be. I was seldom punished as a human…my mother didn't really bother that much with me. I did get spanked a time or two and had to clean up messes I'd made.

I just wasn't sure how to clean up this mess.