Chapter 13: Rosalie Hale

In Rochester, the King family owned most of the human establishments. The Great Depression was rampant, but somehow it had skipped this town. We stayed distant, preferring not to draw attention to ourselves. I worked in the hospital, taking long hours so that I came on before sunrise in the morning and left after sunset. On rainy days, it didn't matter so much, but I was still careful not to be caught outside in the sun. Edward attended school, but kept to himself. Esme decided it best to remain home this time around. The less Cullens (or Hall in Edward's case) that were seen too often, the better. The hospital was perfectly fine with me working such hours. I was the most certified doctor they had.

And so I was on my way home from the hospital one cold night in April when I heard a commotion up ahead and ran to see if could help. I rounded the corner just in time to see Royce King and a band of his cronies drunkenly stumbling away. They left behind a body, lying in the gutter. I smelled the blood right away, but I ignored the reaction my body had, as I'd been doing for the last 270 years.

I ran at my vampire speed, halting before the unfortunate victim. I recognized the girl. Though her face was swollen and cut from the beating Royce and his drunk friends had dealt, I could still recognize the blonde hair and I could see the expensive engagement ring on her finger. This young woman was Rosalie Hale, Royce's fiancée. Royce and his friends had beaten her, probably raped her too, and had left her to die. Snow had started falling and I knew I had to get her away. She was dying. Her heart fluttered, light and irregular.

So I did what I thought would be best. I picked her up and ran her to the house. She seemed half coherent. I got her home and tried to help her, the human way. But she was slipping away, so I did the only thing left. I bit her, on the wrists, ankles, and neck. Even after changing Edward and Esme, it was hard to pull myself away from her blood. But her scream surprised me. I wasn't sure if it was in pain, or shock. I didn't have Edward there to tell me either, he and Esme had gone hunting in the Appalachians for the weekend. They were due back later that night.

I sat with her apologizing for each scream as my venom transformed yet another human.

"Please just kill me!" she begged. "Just kill me now!" I apologized over and over again. Around 3 AM, Edward and Esme returned home. Rosalie begged them to kill her too. Edward was angry. Angry that I'd brought her home. Angry that I'd bitten her. Esme was as compassionate as ever, sitting with her too. We told her everything, about what we were, what she was becoming, even if we weren't sure she was listening. In the second day, Edward confronted me.

"Carlisle, I'd like a word," he said. I had obliged of course, leaving Esme to watch over Rosalie. I stood up to face him, to listen fairly.

Edward took a moment to gather his thoughts. I could see his anger conflicting with the calm he usually exuded. "What were you thinking, Carlisle?" he demanded. "Rosalie Hale?"

He couldn't keep the irritation from his voice.

"I couldn't just let her die," I told him, keeping my voice low and measured. I hoped to avoid a fight. "It was too much—too horrible, too much waste."

"I know," Edward conceded. He seemed to understand.

"It was too much waste. I couldn't leave her," I repeated, my voice even softer.

"Of course you couldn't," Esme agreed from her place by Rosalie.

Edward's voice hardened. "People die all the time. Don't you think she's just a little recognizable, though? The Kings will have to put up a huge search—" He gave a low growl, "not that anyone suspects the fiend."

All four of us, Edward, Esme, Rosalie, and I were silent for a moment. I had told them what happened.

"What are we going to do with her?" Edward asked finally, the edge fading from his voice.

I sighed, looking over at the beautiful young lady who lay peaceful, almost in a slumber. Edward had told us she felt the pain receding. "That's up to her, of course," I said. "She may want to go her own way."

Edward seemed to hope that would happen. He left the house, only coming back six hours later, as Rosalie began to wake. Her heart stopped rather abruptly and when she opened her eyes, she didn't seem as confused as Edward and Esme had seemed. She sat up and looked around at all three of us, quite calmly.

"Rosalie," I said. "I'm Carlisle, and this is my wife Esme, and Edward."

"I know who you are Dr. Cullen," she said in a soft, beautiful voice. A beautiful voice to match her beautiful face. Next to Esme, Rosalie was the most beautiful vampire I'd ever seen. Her blood red eyes were alert, but didn't seem out of place on her face. After all, she was almost perfect.

Esme got a mirror and we once more explained everything to her. Rosalie seemed to admire her own beauty. Her face hardened as I described how I found her.

"Royce," she growled, when I told her about the boys leaving. She listened in silence as I told her about our lifestyle and offered her a place in our family.

She seemed to consider it, before finally agreeing. As we went hunting, the four of us, I watched her closely. Rosalie seemed quite calm. She didn't show any of the wildness of newborns, the bloodlust, or the extreme emotions. She seemed very passive, and it worried me. I was worried that she'd explode and go on a rampage. I expressed my concerns to Edward. He said she did have the newborn thirst, but the cold malice she feels towards Royce and his friends is overriding the thirst. He promised to keep a close watch on her thoughts. But days, then weeks passed and no such rampage or even any kind of outburst happened. She was very cool-headed.

Then one night, she left. Edward didn't know where she'd gone, she was careful about her thoughts around him, but he did know why. She was going to get her revenge. We didn't know what to do. We couldn't just call the police and tell them that a girl was going to murder some young men and the reason we knew was because Edward could read her mind. So we waited and prayed that she would forgive them and return to us.

Then names began to show up in the paper. Edward recognized them as the friends of Royce King. Rosalie was undoubtedly behind it. She was targeting the group that had left her to die, a month ago.

Esme wanted to try and find her, to stop her. Edward didn't seem to care what she did. He was of Rosalie's mindset. He thought Royce and his friends deserved what they got. It was I who made the decision to stay inconspicuous, for ours and Rosalie's sake. We couldn't expose ourselves. That wouldn't help her either. So we waited and watched as more bodies turned up and the list of dead grew longer. The Police thought some sort of psychopath was on the loose, someone with a vendetta against Royce and his wealthy friends. Edward snorted when he read the hypothesis in the paper.

"They're half right," he commented dryly, earning a stern look from Esme. The reports said all the victims had been beaten, or strangled, or drown to death, not drained of blood. They didn't even have any open wounds. The day Rosalie returned the body of Royce King and two of his bodyguards turned up in a vault of the Kings' bank. Rosalie didn't talk about it, or even mention Royce's name ever again, though Edward confirmed it had been her doing. At the end of Rosalie's first year, we left Rochester for the small town of Appalachia, Virginia.