Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer still owns everything in the Twiverse. Me? Still not she.

Chapter 14: A Moment of Clarity

Rosalie's POV

"Rosalie Hale, what the hell were you thinking?!"

Edward's outburst startles me such that I only stare in response. He runs an agitated hand through his hair, liberating a few silky strands. I watch them float away on the night breeze, wondering where they might land.

"Did you hear me?" he demands.

"Yes, though your tone confuses me. Did I do something?"

"I am sure you did," he accuses as his eyes rake my body from top hat to toe. "What is the question."

His bold appraisal pleases me, and I sweep a hand down and away from my body in a genteel bow. "I have been to town, sir."

"Do you think this is a joke?" When I stand up, he is in my face, his flared nostrils blowing their fury all over me. "Do you have any idea of what you've done?"

I step back to distance my success from his sullenness. "Edward, I realize women wearing trousers is still taboo, but in our situation, you can hardly be concerned about…"

"Trousers?" His roar rumbles through my chest like an angry locomotive. "You think this is about trousers?"

"Why else would you be so angry?" But the words scarcely leave my mouth before I regret them. "Although when I think about my earlier accusation, I realize I have much to apologize for."

"What?" The question is a startled breath, and I feed him the answer in my mind.

"I had no right to think so ill of you," I continue aloud, "and if you cannot forgive me, I would only ask…"

"Think no more of that." His gaze is as earnest as his voice is soft. "A misunderstanding with no harm done."

"Because you would never hurt me."

"Never."

"Nor I you."

The moment changes shape as our eyes lock and reload the events leading to our earlier skirmish. Again I feel the force pulling me toward him even as I am standing still, and I wonder at its strength. Is this the nature between male and female vampires or is there something else at play? And if it's the latter, do I want to know?

He blinks, his eyes darkening slightly, and I smirk. "I do wish you would stay out of my thoughts."

"I cannot seem to help it. You undermine my restraint at every possible turn."

His words have a double meaning, but their tone shifts. His confusing ire has returned, and I stare at him in expectation. "Well?"

"You have not answered my question."

"Question?" I think back to the start of this engagement, marveling at how strangely time passes in his presence. "You want to know what I did tonight?"

"Yes."

"You know what I did." I adjust my pocket square, feeling his laser-like focus on my hands. "I made my intentions clear when we spoke in your room."

"So you did it." The fury is back, sending prickly shivers up my spine. "You killed those men."

I rolled my eyes. "A loose definition of the word 'men.'"

"Did you kill them, Rosalie?"

He snarls my name, and I am incensed by his abuse of it. I step into his precious personal space, enjoying his uneasiness. "Every. Single. One."

He growls low in his chest. "How could you be so reckless?"

"Reckless?"

He speeds on as if I haven't spoken. "Did you take no thought for how your careless actions would affect the rest of us?"

My voice rises with my outrage. "Careless?"

"Do you honestly think we can stay here much longer after your little stunt? Do you think it would be wise for us to remain after you so thoughtlessly…"

"How dare you?" I shove him against a nearby tree, uprooting the young sapling from the ground. It falls with a sad crash as Edward's inhuman reflexes prevent him from falling. "How dare you trivialize my triumph in the name of your pettiness? You berate me with name and reduce my revenge to a self-indulgent tantrum while judging my concerns unworthy. Is that your way of not hurting me?"

He flinches, a low groan following. "I do not intend to scoff at your pain."

"Then why can you not be happy for me?" My voice betrays my need for his support, and it is my turn to cringe.

As if equally discomforted, Edward palms the back of his neck, and I press my momentary advantage. "I was raped, Edward. Violated by five different men in the most inhumane way, and tonight I avenged myself on them. I made my pain their pain, my fear their fear, and did so without drinking a single drop of their repulsive blood.

"I did that, Edward, and I am inexpressibly proud of myself. So please don't ruin it."

My chest heaves in spite of my resolve to remain calm, and I avert my eyes to hide my shame. How easily he renders me undone!

I feel him closing the space between us but cannot meet his eyes for fear of what I might see.

"Where did you leave them?"

"What?"

"The bodies, Rose." He handles my name with care. "Where did you leave the bodies?"

Though the words are plain, I cannot make sense of them. He reacts to my silence by taking another step toward me.

"You killed five men tonight, yes?"

I nod senselessly.

"Where did you take their bodies?"

"Their bodies?" A sharp gasp punctuates my understanding, and my hands fly to my face. "Oh, no..."

He coaxes my fingers from my mouth, his eyes intense. "What, love?"

"I…I didn't take them anywhere. I just…I took off after Royce because he was the last one, and I was so pleased after scaring him to death and wanted to tell you about it so badly I never went back to…to fix or remove their bodies, and oh my go— I left them where they died."

His fingers close around mine as he clasps my hand. "Show me."

With a trembling nod, I fly toward town, my mind frantic with the possibilities.

There is no way for the murders to be traced back to our clan; the lack of witnesses and evidence ensures that. But the brutality of the crimes will make the townspeople more suspicious, and the handsome doctor who never seems to age might very well find himself the subject of undesirable scrutiny.

I don't particularly care for Dr. Cullen—his theft of my humanity is difficult to forgive—but I would not wish any harm on his sweet wife, a woman I have come to almost care for in these short weeks.

And where might such a situation leave Edward? He has no ties to the doctor and his wife and would not be obligated to remain with them should a sudden departure be necessary. Would he stay with them? Would he go off on his own?

And if he chose the latter, would he want a snarky companion with whom he shared an intensely unpredictable connection? Or would he walk away and forget I ever existed?

At this thought, Edward stops running without releasing my hand, pulling me backwards at an alarming velocity. My body slams into his, and his free hand steadies me at the waist. His grip is stronger than necessary, but I cannot regret the heat seeping into my flesh where the pads of his fingers rest against me. We are less than a wish apart, and I find that I do not mind.

I do not mind at all.

"Blood," he grunts.

I can barely hear him above our labored breathing. "What?"

"I smell blood. Are we near?"

I shake my head to clear the fog his nearness inspires and take in my surroundings. The trees are familiar, but it is the stench of homemade pomade and cigarettes which answers Edward's question.

Wallace.

The one who liked to pinch.

I brace myself for the crippling rage that accompanies the mention of my attackers, but it does not come.

Strange.

Then I recall the night's success and relax, expecting the earlier euphoria. Wallace and the boys are dead at my hands and cannot hurt me anymore.

I should be relieved, thrilled even.

But the reminder of the animals' slaughter turns my body against me, and for the first time since my change, I feel the urge to vomit. My hands wrap around my stomach as the discomfort mounts.

Edward steps toward me, but I hold up a hand to keep him at bay. I do not like him seeing me this way, and knowing his telepathy will betray my secrets only increases my uneasiness.

"Yes." I rise to my feet. "Come."

We soon find the bodies of Wallace and Anders. Edward inhales through his teeth but makes no other sound, removing from his shoulders a large knapsack I hadn't noticed before.

He sets the bag at his feet, his eyes evaluating the scene. "You said there were five."

"Two are in the street," I mutter, the abdominal churning becoming more pronounced. "Royce is in bed at the hotel."

"In bed?"

"On top of it. He climbed onto the bed to get away from me."

He looks around without meeting my eyes. "Stay here."

While I resent his presumptiveness, I take a seat on a relatively dry stump.

He glances at me once more and disappears from sight, taking the bag with him. As his cool scent lingers in the air, I rest my elbows on my knees, palming my forehead as the sickening feeling rises in my stomach.

Is this guilt? Could I feel guilty for ridding the world of that parasitic quintet?

No. They deserve what they got and more.

If anything, I wish Royce's death had been a product of my design, that it had been slower and more elaborate. I'd barely begun to punish him.

Is this fear for what might happen to the Cullens?

Maybe. But after a few centuries of living, I'm sure the wily Dr. Cullen has escaped a scrape or two.

Another wave of nausea rolls in my belly, and I put my head between my knees to stave it off.

Why do I feel so vile?

Closing my eyes, I let my mind run free.

I see myself lying uncovered on that cold, deserted street a few weeks ago. I see the moment when I realize they have finished with me, the moment where I come to expect death.

And as I stare at myself in retrospect, I see what has happened.

Tonight is the official ending, the severing of the final ties to my human life. And that being so, I must accept a truth I have denied since awaking to immortality.

I will never see my family again.

The knots in my stomach tighten with such force that I cover my mouth. I may be able to stop the shout, but it is too late to stem the tide of emotions crashing within my soul.

I will never again see my family.

I will never again hear their voices or create new memories with them.

I will never again watch my mother curl her hair within an inch of perfection, mimicking and striving to earn her unconditional approval.

I will never again witness my brothers' delight as they run through the house with their latest finds: an obscure coin, a chocolate confection, a small stone for their collection.

I will never again watch my father unfold the paper at the breakfast table after his third sip of coffee, a ritual so reliable I could set my watch by it.

Watch.

The queasiness becomes a sharp pain as other images flood my mind.

My father's pocket watch.

My mother's jeweled hair combs.

My brother's bolo bats with the worn-out strings.

Our family portrait above the fireplace.

Grandmother's china on display in the hall cabinet.

I will never again see these things because I will never again see them.

For all I gained in taking five lives tonight, it did nothing to give me my human life back.

It is lost and gone forever.

"Rosalie?"

I am so lost in my thoughts I do not notice Edward has returned and finished his task. At his feet is a large cloth sack cinched at the top with knotted leather ties. He watches me as I come to my feet, his eyes fraught with worry.

"Are you ready?"

I clear my throat, tossing my melancholy aside. "For what?"

He indicates the bag. "To dispose of this."

The earlier frustration returns in triplicate. Yet another detail that slipped my mind. Where on earth would we deposit such a thing?

"I know a place." His voice soothes my irritation, relaxing the knot in my belly enough for me to breathe. "Follow me."

Edward hoists the bag on his shoulder, waving me off when I offer to take the knapsack. Though the rough fabric is opaque, my superhuman eyes notice the face pressed against the inside of the bag.

Harley's bulbous eyes frozen in fear.

I do not look at it again.

I mindlessly follow Edward as he runs toward the west, my legs moving of their own volition. Perhaps he is running more slowly than before or my mind is weary of the night, but our journey seems long. Or perhaps when eternity stretches before you, everything seems long.

How will I ever survive the monotony? Can a vampire go mad with boredom?

Why didn't that blasted doctor let me die? I could be in glory with Grandma Lily, gliding with the angels in a state of blessed, perpetual youth. Instead I'm stuck down here until Armageddon ends the earth, and then what will become of me? Will I simply succumb to the flames as another pile of ash or will my spirit soar to the heavens and reclaim the place it long ago lost?

"Rosalie."

Once again, Edward's voice startles me, and it takes me a moment to regain my composure. From his posture and tone, he has been trying to get my attention for some time. "I'm sorry, what?"

"I'm going to get rid of this. You can stay here if you'd like."

As I have no clue of his plans, I take a seat on a nearby boulder.

"Maybe you should have that cigarette now," he says before turning away. "I think you've earned it."

The lilt in his voice is forced, but I appreciate his effort. "Right."

I reach into my jacket as he speeds toward the lake. As I glance around, I realize where we are.

This is where he brought me after I woke up.

After I tried to kill him.

The cigarette lighter sparks to life, touching the slim, white stick before I slip it between my lips. Sucking in a slow, deep breath, I feel the smoke fill my lungs and wonder why a human would ever do this. But the look of the exhale is fascinating, and I take another drag, lost in the smoke as I recall the first night of my new life.

For all of my outward serenity, a palpable fear clawed at my insides as the doctor and his wife watched me. Waking up in strange clothes in a strange room was bad enough. But I felt alien in my own skin, as if I no longer belonged to myself, and the sensation disturbed me greatly.

From the start, the doctor incensed me with his impertinent appraising. I could tell he meant well, but his prying eyes were too much to handle, so I demanded his departure. His wife was compassion incarnate and did what she could to calm me, but I was a mess. Terrified, overwhelmed, and unable to find my emotional footing.

Until I heard the voice from beyond the door.

The voice that cooled the fires during my change.

The velvet voice promising not to ever hurt me.

The voice of reason keeping me from taking Harley's life tonight.

The voice of my salvation.

"It is finished."

As if on cue, Edward walks toward me, swiping dirt from his pants and hands.

Soiled by my choices.

Because he came to my rescue.

"Those vermin will never be found."

In spite of his belief that I was making a wrong choice, Edward came to my rescue.

He took upon him the literal dirt of my deeds and did so with alacrity and without derision.

"And Royce will not be a problem."

He did what Dr. Cullen did not.

What my father could not.

What Royce would not.

"After I closed his eyes and covered him with a blanket, he appears to have died in his sleep."

I pull on the cigarette again, exhaling slowly. My thoughts are focused on curlicues in the smoke, but my heart is dazed and distracted. As I stare at Edward through the blue-grey haze, I feel as if I am seeing him for the first time.

Just as he saw my distress and saved me from it.

Saved me as no man before him ever has.

And in this new light, he emerges more than a man.

He is my hero.

Edward drops the knapsack at his side, unnerved by my silence. "What happened, Rosalie?"

I blink as he waits for an answer, my feelings too riotous to name.

"You don't have to tell me," he continues softly, "but it might make you feel better."

You make me feel better.

You made it all better.

You saved me.

He does not react to my thoughts, and when his hand runs through his hair in frustration, I realize he is forcing himself not to read my mind.

For that alone, he deserves a reward.

"I might be the last person you want to talk to…"

I snuff the end of the cigarette with my fingers, tossing it on the ground.

"…and I may not have been the most supportive of your decision initially…"

I scoot off the boulder and walk toward him, enjoying the play of emotions on his face as I land in front of him.

"…but I never meant to belittle your feelings or make you…"

And his words come to a stop with the rest of the world as I cup his face and bring his perfect lips to mine.

Whoa! Did anyone see that coming? How on earth will Edward react? Find out next time… His POV is next! xoxo