A/N Thank you to Katmom for being my beta on this story and to Katmom, H6p8gv and LittleFairyMaiden for telling me that my idea wasn't half bad...It's AU and the first time I've written something like this so I hope I can keep it interesting...It will have the canon couples...It's rated T for now but may go up to M in the future...

Disclaimer: All recognizable characters belong to Stephenie Meyer. No copyright infringement is intended.

Prologue

I stood in the shadows behind the gray curtains at the bay window as a tall, pudgy, balding man entered the house. The contract I had said his name was Richard Walker and that he was forty-two years old. Mr. Walker dropped his keys on a small pine desk that sat just inside the entryway and continued on into the living room. I kept on watching as he made himself a scotch and water and gingerly sipped it. He took off his shoes and turned on a small lamp beside the leather couch before sitting on it and turning the television on to the news as was his nightly routine.

As soon as he finished his scotch and placed the glass upon the table next to him, I quietly made my way over to him and put the barrel of his Colt 22 up to his right temple. I had found the gun in his nightstand when I arrived; having seen him put it there the previous night. He flinched at the feel of cool metal but had little time to do much else as I pulled the trigger. I held my breath as his blood fell across the tan cushion next to him. I wiped down the gun and placed it in his right hand. I then raced out of his house and disposed of my gloves miles away from his house.

I passed a herd of deer on my way back to Forks, Washington and easily drank from two bucks before burying their bodies.

Esme was in her study, painting, when I came through the door and started towards my room.

"Where were you off to this time, Rosalie?" she asked.

"Vancouver," I answered, stepping inside her study.

Esme sighed knowingly, having seen the contract in my hand five days ago. She disapproved of me killing what she thought were innocent people.

"Esme, these people I'm hired to kill aren't saints. There's usually a reason why they're wanted dead."

"I'm sure there are some who want them alive," she tried to point out. "They must have families or friends."

I shook my head slightly. All the contract gave me was their name, address, reason why they were wanted dead, and price the contractor was paying. The way in which the person died was up to me. I usually spent a few days following them, learning their schedule and habits, before deciding the best way to dispose of them without getting caught.

With the information I had from Mr. Walker's contract, I tried a new tactic, hoping to appeal to Esme's compassion. "The man I just killed was embezzling millions of dollars from a nonprofit organization that assists cancer patients. Wouldn't you rather he be stopped and give the money he was taking to those cancer patients."

"Yes, but killing him isn't the answer."

Carlisle entered the room as I finished speaking. "Good morning, ladies," he said before sitting next to Esme and wrapping his arm around her shoulder.

"Morning, Carlisle," we said in unison.

He noticed my dark clothes. I usually wore a black track suit when I wanted to be inconspicuous while working. "Were you out last night?"

I nodded. "Vancouver."

He rubbed his neck and frowned. "Another job?"

"Yes, an embezzler."

"Is there any way we can get you to stop this?" Carlisle asked. Like Esme, he wanted to protect human life.

"I like my job. I get to stop people from harming others."

Esme sighed sadly. "There are other ways of stopping them. What would happen if you were given the job to kill someone and you found you couldn't for some reason?"

"I keep my personal feelings out of it so that will never be a problem."

At the time I felt that I could keep my personal feelings from influencing my work. I soon learned that I was wrong…