Disclaimer: Don't own it, just get a kick out of writing about it. Thanks Stephenie!

Thanks again to my wonderful beta, Emilie Fauve!


She had just entered the house after hunting. Carlisle had departed moments before, joining Esme on a trip into town, securing the necessary means to begin the arduous task of uprooting and moving to Tennessee.

"How are things?" I did my best to hide all of my churning emotions behind a mask of indifference.

Edward. So nice of you to make an appearance.

"Fine." She replied, glaring at me icily. So far, her thoughts were running in tandem with her words.

"Has Carlisle informed you that we'll be moving soon?"

I'm not going anywhere until I visit my beloved fiancé one last time.

She smiled, more in reaction to her own thought than my feigned politeness. "Yes, thank you."

An awkward silence followed. Both of us eyed one another speculatively.

What is he thinking right now…he looks like he's waiting for me to say something. But what? All I want is for him to disappear, and leave me alone just long enough tonight so I can carry out my revenge. Carlisle and Esme obviously left him to baby-sit.

"Are Carlisle and Esme gone for the remainder of the evening?" she questioned lightly, showing no signs of the inner impetuosity churning within. I considered asking her if she had studied theater, but decided not to give her any reason to suspect my talents.

Instead, I played along. "Yes, I believe so. Securing the means to move so quickly is quite complicated. Carlisle will be calling on all of his business contacts to ensure no suspicion arises, particularly after your noteworthy death." I watched warily to see if she'd take the bait.

Noteworthy! Who is he to mock the life that was stolen from me? If I'm immortal, then I should have no fear of retribution from the citizens of Rochester. Let them try and stop me…

"I see. Well then, I would hate to keep you from…" she glanced around the room, searching for any sign that would indicate my prior activity in the house. This time I actually chuckled at her dramatic act.

"You're not keeping me from anything, really," I finished. Her red eyes returned to mine, squinting slightly as she sized me up.

He's too damn smart for his own good. And too observant. Regardless of my plans, I am not spending the evening exchanging pleasantries with him.

She too, was quite observant. I needed to backpedal quickly to keep her from getting overly suspicious.

"Actually, I should probably go and hunt. It wouldn't hurt to build up my strength before the move." I watched her expression carefully. "That is, if you'd rather be alone this evening…"

Perfect. As soon as he's gone, I'll take care of my own business before we relocate.

"I would join you, but I just returned from hunting. My thirst is well under control," she answered much too sweetly. Ah, what an actress.

"Well then, have a pleasant evening. I'll be back by midnight if you need anything." I nodded my head once in respect before stepping out the backdoor and into the woods.

Finally – solitude. I never thought I'd want it this badly. Royce will pay for his sins tonight…all of them will.

I outwardly cringed at the fury that resounded inside of her head. Was this rage caused solely by Royce's assault, or had she been this angry and unforgiving her entire, short life? I prayed it was the former - that allowing her this retribution would give her some sort of peace, otherwise the volatile emotions within would ultimately consume her. Of that I was certain.


It was only prudent to assume she would be listening for me, so I was careful not to follow her too closely on her journey back into town. However, I was fairly confident that she did not expect me to be waiting nearby, observing her visit to Royce. Besides, I still held the trump card; she did not know of my abilities.

I ran in a wide arc away from the house, so as to disguise my scent in case she suspected my hunting excuse. Circling back around to town, I first headed to the King household, listening to the thoughts around me for any indication as to Royce's whereabouts. He was incredibly easy to find.

Royce and his four cohorts were at the local tavern, well on their way to getting inebriated despite the early evening hour. Judging from their fuzzy thoughts, they planned to retire to the King's barn later that evening for a poker game. I decided to wait for them there, knowing Rosalie was too calculating and smart to attack in such a public place.

A couple of hours later, I heard the men stumbling towards the barn. All five were so intoxicated that their minds barely functioned; I was amazed they had found their way home in that state. Before they arrived, I had staked out a hiding place up in the loft, my scent conveniently cloaked by the aromatic hay. Rosalie would never know I was here to witness her act of revenge.

The men began their disorganized game, arguing loudly over misdeals and continuing to take swigs off of a community bottle of whiskey. Royce was surprisingly the most coherent of the bunch, and he took full advantage of his position. Often, he palmed good cards or traded chips to a higher denomination when it suited his hand, cheating repeatedly with no regret whatsoever. As I observed his unbelievably malevolent behavior towards his supposed friends, I began to feel more righteous in allowing Rosalie her revenge. But I worried too – how would she react when she saw her fiancé this way? I had gathered from her dimming human memories that she had never witnessed any bad behavior on his part before the night he attacked her; either that, or she refused to admit to it. I hoped she would someday be able to see the poetic justice in Carlisle's actions – this new life had to have more hope for her than an abusive marriage to Royce.

I heard Rosalie approaching, not by her light footsteps, but rather her potent thoughts. She was already in quite a rage, and she had not even actually seen her despicable fiancé yet.

He will suffer; he will feel as much pain as I did. He will know fear beyond anything in this world. He will meet his maker in hell!

Behind these specific thoughts, I saw the brutal attack on Rosalie replay in her mind like a broken record - her fright, confusion, and most of all, her love for Royce until the bitter end. He had left her decimated on that road, yet she remained unconditionally in love with him.

Unabashed hatred radiated around her, repeatedly striking me and causing sanguinary ideas to race hurriedly through my mind. No other vampire or human's thoughts had produced such an adverse reaction in me before; I was literally seething in anger toward the men below me, and I was prepared to act as a vessel for Rosalie's fury even before she stepped foot in the barn. Although the rational half of my brain told me there was no feasible way she could know I was about to bear witness to her slaughter, the other half feared she had been aware all along, and was now using me as her own personal pawn. I gripped a wooden beam forcefully to keep myself from jumping down and ripping the men to shreds.

Just then, she appeared. My crazed, emotional fugue was abruptly interrupted when I saw the dress she wore - her wedding gown. She resembled an exquisite, heavenly angel, adorned in white lace with her golden curls piled perfectly atop her head. Even her expression was divine, betraying not an ounce of the wrath that churned within her soul. Her very presence froze me in my place, temporarily quelling my rage like a soothing touch.

She entered through the side door silently, seeming to float above the clay floor and wisps of straw. Her red irises glowed in the light of the kerosene lanterns, making her look almost like a mockery of Satan himself. Approaching the manly ruckus, she remained poised and outwardly calm. I was thunderstruck by her control, knowing full well what was playing out in her head.

I wondered how close she'd get before Royce or one of his friends noticed her. The pressure of the room changed as she drew nearer, like a brewing storm in early April. The hairs on the back of my neck stood straight up from a combination of foreboding suspense and anticipated horror.

Now she was less than five feet away; three of the scoundrels' backs were to her, two facing her direction but too engrossed in their cards to notice the imminent white ghost before them.

Look at me, you bastards. Look at me!

How could they not see her, not feel her? Were all human males this unobservant? Her very aura commanded her presence be acknowledged – I, myself, could not tear my eyes away from her.

Several very heavy seconds passed as she noiselessly observed their raunchy card game. Finally, one of Royce's friends glanced up from his hand.

She met his gaze, waiting for his reaction. The man teetered drunkenly for a moment, almost looking through her instead of at her while Rosalie stood stoically, sizing up her first victim.

You will be thanking your maker later for that bottle of whiskey. However, I'll still make you wish you had drank a dozen more.

"Hello, boys." Her patience had reached its end. You couldn't take your eyes off of me when I was human; you most certainly will not take your eyes off of me now.

The remaining four slowly rotated in their chairs, their heads working around the sweet timbre of her voice, trying to decipher what possible, wanton female would be brazen enough to disrupt their little game. Of course it was Royce who first recognized his fallen bride.

First, he tripped over his chair as he stumbled to his feet when Rosalie took another step closer, a sickening grin upon her flawless face. She reached out one hand, beckoning him towards her. Royce's jaw moved up and down, attempting to form words, but no sound escaped his clenched throat.

"What's the matter, my dear fiancé? Cat got your tongue?" Her scarlet eyes danced in delight when a feminine squeak escaped his lips as he scrambled backwards, knocking over the table and scattering the remnants of the game across the floor.

He finally found his voice. "You're…you're…" I expected Royce's friends to mimic his reaction. After all, they had participated willingly in her molestation; but now, they sat hypnotized by both her alluring voice and those commanding eyes.

"Dead?" Rosalie's laughter rang out like holiday bells across the stable as she answered Royce's utterance. "I don't think so." Her merry expression changed instantly; now she truly resembled the very demon that beleaguered their minds.