A/N: Thanks to all who read this story. I love Rosalie, really I do. She's so misunderstood.
I ran through the woods, missing my human body's ability to tire. I missed the way my body would grow heavy, slowly shutting down my thoughts, making it possible for me to rest, to sleep, to escape. My thoughts just spiraled on forever now, one continuous loop of pain. I didn't know if murdering Smythe would help any of that. I just knew that I couldn't bear to exist in a world where Smythe still drew breath.
So I fed. I was determined to follow Edward's instructions to the letter. He wanted me to feed, so I fed. Somewhere in the woods nearby was Esme, who had joined me. She was still nervous about my hunting alone, but she kept her distance, just wanting to be close enough to intervene should something go wrong. For instance, if I were to come across a human.
Smythe's murder would be the first time I'd actually been within a mile of a living, breathing human. But the idea of feeding on him was repellant, worse than drinking mud or sewage. Or alcohol, the smell that was on the breath of my attackers. I couldn't bear the thought of ever having any part of Smythe within me ever again. Never. Again. No one would ever suffer at his hands again.
After I'd consumed far more blood than I ever had before, Esme and I ran back to the house. I could feel all the blood sloshing around within me. I was nearly uncomfortably full. But Edward said to feed, so I fed.
We came back to the house just before dawn. Edward was in his favorite chair near the fire, reading a book. He looked up at me, his face impassive as he looked me over. "Nice hunt, Esme?" he asked our mother.
"Yes, it was quite nice. Rosalie is quite something to see at the hunt. She's so quick and graceful." She beamed my way, always the proud mother.
She could never know what we were going to do.
She and Carlisle began readying themselves for their day. I sat again on the sofa, reading more of The Art of War, readying my mind the way I'd readied my body. Edward seemed to approve, so I simply rested, waiting for his next instructions. I was sure he was reading my thoughts—most of which were "what next?"—because a smile played around his lips. He did not speak, would not until Carlisle and Esme left the house for the day. We would not risk them knowing what we were going to do.
Finally Esme came into the room, beautiful as always in her conservative work attire. Carlisle was close behind her. "Any plans today?" she asked us.
"Perhaps a walk in the woods again. Other than that, probably just reading. There's so much I haven't read here." I smiled at her. I could almost feel the waves of approval coming from Edward. I was being causal enough, hiding the quivering excitement that threatened to overtake me at any moment.
"That sounds lovely. I will be back early today, probably just after noon or so." Esme smiled brightly at us and Carlisle bid us farewell, then they were gone.
Edward was not happy that Esme would be back so quickly. He was frowning as I turned to look at him. "Is Esme coming back early a problem?"
"Possibly," he said. "We will need to make sure that you have a change of clothes nearby just in case. Can you get one? I know where we can leave them on the way into town."
"Of course. Just a moment." I rushed out of the room and was back mere seconds later with a clean skirt and blouse. "Should I bring anything else?"
"No." Edward sat perfectly still for a moment. It was still a little strange to me to watch. He seemed to turn to marble in front of me. He finally stirred. "No time like the present, I suppose."
We left the house quietly, although we knew that Carlisle and Esme were halfway to town by now. We ran swiftly through the woods to a clearing. Edward pointed to a large, flat rock. "You can leave your clothes here. I use this path often. I will not forget where they are."
I nodded. I would argue with nothing that he said today. I placed the clothes on the rock and looked at him, awaiting further instruction.
"We are going to find him at the club. You will lure him out into the alley. I have just the thing for you to wear." He pulled a hat from inside his jacket. It was a black hat of Esme's. It was the sort that was usually worn further down on the forehead, and it had a small veil of netting that would cover my strange eyes, shielding them somewhat from view. I placed it carefully on my head, and rearranged the waves of blonde hair around my shoulders.
"How do I look?" I asked him nervously.
"He will not be able to resist. You are far lovelier than the barmaid who works there."
"What do I need to do to lure him into the alley?" I asked.
"You are simply going to go in with me and sit at a table. I don't know if Smythe will recognize me or not." He pulled another hat from inside his coat and placed it on his head, hiding his unruly shock of bronze hair. "I doubt he will approach me, even if he does. You and I will appear to argue, then you will storm out through the back door. He will follow. He will not be able to help himself. I am sure of this. I will let you know when you have captured his fancy enough for our plan to work."
I nodded.
"You will have enough to do to simply appear human. When I shift position, you shift position. Breathe, but only through your mouth. Do not breathe through your nose. You will be tempted. The smells will be overwhelming, but there will be three, maybe four humans at the most in the club at this time of day. I will not let you feed on anyone there, Rosalie. Do not attempt to do so, or I will be forced to hurt you, and we will not continue on our path. Yield to temptation, and Royce will live a long happy life."
I could feel my lips curl backward. I hissed.
"Exactly." He smiled, hearing all the violent thoughts that were running through my head. "Now, are you ready to go?"
I nodded.
"Then let's go." He offered me his arm, which I took gladly. We made our way, regally but frustratingly slowly, down to town. Every so often, he would quietly say, "Easy, Rose." My thoughts were a tangled mass of anger and anticipation and…as the first wave of human scent washed over me...thirst. I tried to beat down the flames rising in my throat with thoughts of my hunt, with the reality that the vast amount of blood I had consumed still filled my stomach to absolute capacity. But the odor of the blood was too great…like the best food I could remember from my human life, plus a deep perfume of flowers and musk and something unidentifiable. It was the best smell I'd smelled in my whole life, quite unlike the rusty iron smell that humans identify as blood.
Edward paused, gripping my arm tightly. "Rose? Rose?" I didn't respond, couldn't respond. Every fiber of my being was screaming at me to feed. I felt like I was burning at the stake, hot and thirsty and roasting slowly from within. "Rosalie!" Edward's fingers were painful on my arm, and I turned, working to focus on him with every fiber of my being. His amber eyes had darkened slightly, and I knew he felt the thirst as well. I wanted to reach down my own throat and claw at it from the inside, rip out the parts that hurt me so badly. "Breathe through your mouth when you feel you need to. You can hold your breath indefinitely. Now is the time to practice. Breathing is simply habit left over from your human life. You do not need it."
He did not let go of my arm. He waited for my chest to grow still. "Good." He peered into my eyes. "Your eyes are black. Maybe that's for the best…much less startling than the red. That's positive." He smiled uneasily, probably as an attempt to calm me. It worked. "I will not let go of you. If you try to attack, I will stop you, and we will both be hurt. If you try to attack, we will make a scene that no human will ever forget, and the Cullens will all leave town, and they will all live. You don't want that, do you? You know that they'll hurt others." I nodded, lips pressed tightly together. My mouth was completely filled with venom. "Let me know when you're ready to proceed."
It felt like an eternity standing there on the sidewalk, staring into Edward's eyes as he read every thought, every desire I was having. He watched the entire struggle. My mind played my fantasies as clearly as the movies I'd seen in the Cinema. I could remember seeing Dracula a couple of years ago. From what I knew now, I realized that Bela Lugosi was a ridiculous parody of the real thing. My mind played images just as clearly, though, but now Bela was mixed in among them. Edward smiled. It seemed to amuse him. "I saw that, too. Stupid picture, wasn't it? Did you see Frankenstein?" I nodded. "It was better, I thought." I nodded again.
Thinking of the moving pictures I'd seen sitting in the Cinema, or what we all called the "flea pit," was calming. I began to list them in my head. There were many. I'd been quite a film buff, especially after talking pictures had been developed, and I'd had a good deal of money and time, so I'd seen anything that tickled my fancy. The Murders at the Rue Morgue, Nosferatu, The Phantom of the Opera. I'd really liked the scary movies. I'd dress in my finest and head down. I was a little unusual because I'd go without my parents sometimes. Sometimes I'd go alone. I had liked watching the stories, seeing the beautiful people on the screen, and sometimes I'd fantasized I was one of them. I was pretty enough, prettier than Greta Garbo in Grand Hotel, prettier than Fay Wray in King Kong.
"Once you get used to this smell, you can go to the movies again. That's one thing you don't have to give up." Edward looked at me again, and the minute he'd said the word "smell," the flames, which had eased just a bit, began to rise again. He spoke quickly. "You wanted to be an actress, didn't you? Sometimes? Well, this is your greatest role. You get to be the heroine and the movie monster, all at once. Imagine yourself in the theater. Remember the smells…the snacks…that dusty smell of the curtains…how the light flickered when the movie started…the sound of the Wurlitzer playing. Thing about all of those things. Breathe through your mouth." He took a step forward, still gripping my arm quite tightly.
Slowly, very slowly, while Edward monitored my thoughts and filled my head with memories of my favorite moving pictures, we made our way down the street. It was an odd time, children already at school, men already at work, so there weren't many people on the street. We didn't pass anyone, which was good, because my resolve wasn't quite set yet.
Eventually, we made it to the door of the club. I could smell humans inside. I steeled myself and set my lips in a firm line. I was determined to do this.
"You can do this, Rosalie. If I didn't believe in you, we wouldn't be here right now." Edward's free hand touched my face, almost tenderly. "We're going to go in there, we're going to sit at a table, we're going to talk about our favorite pictures some more. You're going to do exactly what we planned. When I tell you, you will storm out the back door without looking at any of the humans, and you're going to wait for Smythe in the alley. That is the only time that you will be without me, and it will not last long. You can do it." I nodded. He smiled, able to read the firm determination in my mind. The minute we'd gotten here, and I recognized Smythe's foul smell inside, there was no turning back for me. I would do whatever it took to see him dead. "You're a better vampire than Bela Lugosi and Max Schreck combined." He smiled. "Let's go."
We went inside. It was dim. The smell of human hit me like a brick wall, and I swayed slightly at the force of it and the desire that rose within me. Edward's hand gripped me even tighter, and he steered us to the back table, calling out to the barman over his shoulder, "We'll have two ales, please."
We were as far away from the humans as we could get, but I found myself nearly crazed with desire. Edward remained calm. He still had faith that my own desire to kill Smythe would win out. "He's at the bar. He's already noticed you. He doesn't recognize you." My eyes, wide with desire, thirst, and rage, flicked over to where he was sitting. He looked at me from the corner of my eyes. I began to growl. Edward coughed loudly. "You can't do that, Rose. Calm yourself." Suddenly he asked, "Do you like musicals? I saw 42nd Street last week. I think they're silly. I mean, I like the music, but all that dancing?" A tiny portion of my brain wanted to argue with him—I loved the dancing—but only a tiny part.
"What about Chaplain? Do you like Chaplain? You're not really a comedy kind of girl, are you? You like the scary stuff? That's kind of funny, really…" Edward continued talking about films. It was beginning to ease my mind a little. Every time he mentioned a different film, especially one I hadn't seen, it helped to distract me.
"The waitress is coming. Clasp your hands together. Don't speak. Don't look at her. Look away."
I shifted my eyes to look at an empty table beside us. I could smell her coming, feel the inviting heat of her body roll over me. My hands clasped one another so tightly I thought they would shatter.
"Thank you, miss. We won't be needing anything else." Edward's decisive tone must have gotten rid of her. The smell and heat receded a bit, enough for me to relax a fraction. Edward still had a grip on my arm. I wondered fleetingly if I'd have permanent dents from the force of his grip. "I think your arm will be just as perfect as it was yesterday," Edward commented, clearly amused at my thought.
The ale in front of me smelled vile. I watched Edward as he lifted his to his lips and actually took a tiny sip. He laughed at the look on my face. "You can ingest human food. That will come back up later, unfortunately. But it's a good cover." I reached out for the glass, and Edward quickly added, "You don't have to." My hand jerked back as if it were on a hot stove. He smiled and laughed quietly.
"You have an admirer," he said softly. "Any minute now, we will pretend to argue. Will you be okay?"
I weighed my desires carefully in my mind. The desire to kill Smythe outweighed my desire to kill all the humans in the bar, but not by much.
"You will be fine," Edward finally concluded. "Smythe has thought of nothing but you for at least ten minutes now," he said with some satisfaction. "He will definitely follow when you get up. Are you ready? You will need to speak."
My eyes grew wider. My mouth was dripping with venom, and I wasn't at all sure that I could. Edward nodded. "Pick up your drink, pretend to drink, and spit out what you can into the glass."
I did as he said. The beverage smelled loathsome, and I could see strands of the slightly thicker venom swirling around in it. It was disgusting. But the effect was good. I'd be able to speak.
Edward suddenly touched my shoulder, rubbing it suggestively while he winked a slow wink at me. It took me a second to realize that this was what I was supposed to react to. I picked up the drink and threw part of it into his face, screeching, "You disgust me!"
Edward cursed softly under his breath and wiped his eyes. I got up, shouted, "I'm leaving," and made my way to the back door. It took every ounce of strength I had to force my feet past the occupants of the bar. I kept my eyes on the back door and tried to think of the task at hand.
Finally, I was out the back door, leaning against the wall. Soon, I heard the door softly open and close. Smythe. His smell was both appealing and revolting in equal measure. The smell of alcohol on his foul breath and his body odor combined to muddy the smell of his blood, which I'm sure would have been delicious in spite of its disgusting package.
"Well, well, well. What have we here?" I looked at him through narrowed eyes. I could hear Edward coming around the building, but Smythe couldn't.
"Was your date mean to you, honey? You didn't like him touching you? I bet you'd like it if I touched you…"
The rage that shot up through my chest drove away all thoughts of thirst. I swallowed to clear my mouth of venom. I smiled, a slow, cold, vicious smile, and raised the veil on my hat. "Well, hello, Charles. Remember me?"
His face drained of color as he took in my expression, my frightening eyes that were mostly black but still had a ring of bright crimson, and my face. My still-familiar face. "You can't be…"
"I can't be what, Charles?" The fear coming off of him was nearly palpable.
"You were dead," he sputtered.
"Ah, see, Charlie, when you leave someone for dead, you should really make sure they are, in fact, dead."
He was shaking violently. I loved his fear, reveled in it. I began to circle him. He kept an eye on me, but his feet were rooted to the spot. Edward watched from the end of the alley, both making sure there were no witnesses and making sure that I didn't spill any of Smythe's blood. His presence gave me strength.
"I wasn't quite dead, you see." I ran a cold finger down his arm, and he shuddered. I noticed the pulse of blood in his elbow and neck. It raised some thirst, but it was tolerable. "You hurt me, to be sure," I said, and I grasped his lower arm, and with an easy jerk, snapped the bone. It echoed with a crack in the alley. He cried out. "Tsk, tsk…I think you should be quiet when a lady is speaking." I reached out and struck him in the front of the throat. He spluttered, and his scream faded to a hoarse whisper. I'd probably crushed his larynx.
"His airway will close off soon," Edward said calmly. "Anything you need to say, say now."
I swept my foot around, knocking his feet out from under him. He fell heavily onto his back. I knelt beside him, leaning hard on his chest, still allowing him to breathe. "You will never do this to anyone again. But you should feel honored. You are the first man I ever killed." I smiled soothingly.
"W-w-what are you?" Charles Smythe asked, whispering softly.
"I am what you made me," I said, smiling brightly. Then I leaned into his chest, harder and harder, until his lungs could no longer fill and his ribs began to shatter. I looked into his eyes as they bulged wildly, then reddened as the tiny little vessels in his eyes ruptured, then glazed as he died.
Edward approached cautiously. He reached down and felt for a pulse. There was none.
"You did well, Rosalie, but we are not done. We mustn't be seen leaving the alley, and you mustn't attack anyone as we leave town."
I nodded, but I was still savoring the moment. I stood, looking down at Smythe's body. I couldn't sort out how I felt…relieved and glad in small measures, but revolted and angry in far greater ones. I'd hoped for pure relief when he was dead, but there were so many other emotions mixed in that the relief was nearly eclipsed.
I felt Edward's hand on mine, gentler than his hand had been all day. "Rosalie. We mustn't be found here. We have to go."
I nodded, and let him lead me away. He held my hand in his, gently, as if he knew that I wasn't a threat any more. We made our way, quiet and unseen, out of the alley and turned toward home. We were silent…thought upon thought clamoring for my attention and for Edward's.
We were nearly to the woods when Edward finally spoke. "Killing someone is never as easy as you think it's going to be. It's not going to be a magic bullet for you. Your feelings aren't going to be resolved by this one act. I don't know what it will take for you." I looked at him. He still held my hand tenderly. "Esme seems to think that it will be love that will heal you."
I looked down, embarrassed, and unsure what he was trying to say. I noticed that my clothes were filthy, covered with filth from the alley. They also smelled a little like Charles Smythe. My stockings were torn.
Edward followed my train of thought. "We left clothes for you in the edge of the woods. You can change before we go back to the house."
We walked slowly to the edge of the forest. "I'll give you some privacy," Edward said quietly. He made his way to the edge of the water and stood there, perfectly still, perfectly silent.
I slowly took off all my clothes. I stood there, not sure of what I wanted to do with them. I looked at Edward, where he stood looking down at the water. I walked up to him and stood behind him, naked. I felt so many things for him at that moment, but the primary thing was gratitude. "You don't owe me anything, Rosalie," he said quietly, without turning.
"I know." I just wanted…I wasn't even sure what I wanted.
Slowly, Edward turned. He looked at me, taking in every inch of my body. "You are beautiful, Rosalie. As a man, my body is attracted to you. Of course it is. Look at you." He stepped closer to me, tucking a stray curl behind my ear. "But this isn't what our relationship is about. You are going to be my sister. I know that. And I'm…" He looked uncomfortable, but I didn't think that it had anything to do with my body. I waited for him to finish his thought.
"I was young when I turned. Only 17. Granted, twenty years ago, that wasn't that young, but there were desires that I hadn't really had yet. I don't know that I can have them…that I can form the strength of attraction that it would take for physical love. I haven't felt the pull yet. And as you know, our emotional state and maturity when we turn vampire…let's just say it's difficult for that to change."
I didn't know what he meant, just that he wasn't going to take what I was offering. My eyes began to sting. The rejection filled me with a feeling that I would never be taken with love, that I would always be spoiled and unclean. Trash that was left on the street to die.
"I don't want to hurt you. I don't care about what happened to you, not that way at least. You are beautiful and clean and pure. My feelings about…the physical act…don't have anything to do with you. Don't have anything to do with what happened before you were changed or with what happened today." Suddenly, and quite surprisingly, he reached out and took me in his arms, pressing my body against his.
"Rose, you will find someone one day who will love you the way that you deserve to be loved. But I am not him." He pulled away and kissed me on my forehead. He did not look at me again. "I love you like a brother. That is what I want to be for you. I would be a failure at anything else. Can you understand that?"
I still felt the sting of rejection, but I nodded. "I will go get dressed. Thank you for your help today."
Edward sighed, hearing the distance in my voice. But I still felt shame at being rejected. I was glad that he hadn't taken me out of pity, that he was honest with me. I believed what he said, that he thought I was pure. That would eventually be enough. I dressed slowly.
"Let's go home, Edward."
"Let's go home, sister." He smiled at me, asking silently to be forgiven.
"I wonder if mom's home yet, brother." I smiled back and grasped his hand. "We have more plans to make."