Someone approached her on either side, and she looked to her left to see Alex standing beside her. Alexander Winters had dark red hair, reminding one of blood, and warm brown eyes. He was about a year or two older than Rosalie's own nineteen years, and was one of the best as far as hunters go.

"You want us to take her so you don't slit her throat?"

He managed not to flinch as her icy gaze was turned to him.

"No, I'm fine. You're simply here as a precaution, remember?"

She set off again, hauling a still protesting Miranda along.

"You can't do this to me!"

Greg felt like banging his head against a wall until his head started to bleed, so awful was that intruders high pitched voice. He exchanged a look with Alex, and they both were thinking along the same lines.

Luckily for them, Rosalie managed to shut her up by punching her in the face a couple more times. Looking up the spiral staircase, the blonde sighed, extremely annoyed. She knew she wasn't going to be able to haul this girls butt all the way up to the top of the mansion, but she really didn't want to ask those dorks for help.

Trying to avoid the dilemma, she stood still for a minute, attempting to regain her breath before having to start the process all over again. Just making it to the second floor had been like carrying a house for her, and she wasn't looking forward to a rematch with the problem.

Greg glanced around, trying to figure out why they weren't moving, and noticed that Rosalie was out of breath. He waved a hand to get Alex's attention, and pointed to her. She still had a firm grip on the fugitive, but even she was beginning to notice that Rosalie wasn't paying much attention.

Alex was the first to approach, tapping her lightly on the shoulder.

"What?"

She was too tired to try to glare at him.

"Now do you want us to take her?"

Realizing it would be futile to try to do it by herself, she nodded stiffly. Instead of Alex taking her, however, Greg strode forward and put Miranda over his shoulder.

She started struggling, and Greg spoke in the deadliest voice Rosalie had ever heard, not counting her own.

"Keep struggling and I'll bash your head on the wall and knock you out."

That worked better than when Rosalie punched her several times in the face.

"Why didn't I think of that?"

Gregory chuckled, "Because you wouldn't have been able to go through with it."

With that problem out of the way, Rosalie led the way, with Greg walking slightly behind her and Alexander to her left.

"So why haven't you talked to me since last year?"

Rosalie whipped her head around to look at Alex while still walking forward.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

The truth was that she did know what he was talking about; she just didn't want to talk about it.

"Yes you do. Remember, last year at your birthday ceremony."

Rosalie ignored him, trying to block out the memory from her birthday. The rest of her birthday was fine, but she really didn't want to remember the part with Alex in it.

"Rosalie-"

"Just drop it! We're almost there."

They only had one more floor to go, and she didn't want to lose her composure before going to see the elders.

"I agree with Rosalie. Whatever it is that you two have to sort out can be taken care of. Besides, I really don't want to be here to witness when she loses her temper and takes you out Winters."

The red-head simply rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, whatever."

Rosalie sighed in relief as she saw the large red door come into view.

"We're here."

Taking a deep breath, she knocked the hunter's pattern on the door. The doors swung open, and the three hunters entered the room. Rosalie had been here once before when she turned eighteen to get her first assignment, as everyone was required to do. The elders wanted to see their hunters at least once.

While they could tell what kind of person they were from not only reports but their unique abilities, it was easier for them to tell how they acted by actually seeing them. The best time being when they turned eighteen.

There was a council of ten elders, but that didn't necessarily mean that they were all old. Rosalie's father was an elder, as was Alexander's mother. Mason's grandfather was currently the oldest elder, being age 72. The other elders were relations to someone, but Rosalie couldn't be bothered to try and figure out who was related to who at the moment.

Rosalie's father stood up with permission from elder Greene.

"Rosalie, what are you doing up here?"

She bowed her head respectfully before answering her question.

"It seems that Miranda Knight wasn't so fond that her family was banned from the manor. She showed up in the training room, talking down about me, though I've never met her in my entire life, so Mason sent Irene to come and get me. She wanted to fight, I guess to prove that the Stanton's were all liars, I don't know, but I won, and so here we are. Mason sent Winters and Dawson to make sure that she didn't get away."

Andrew Stanton was baffled; how did she get in through all the security?

Elder Greene glanced at Greg, "You may put her down, Gregory Ethan Dawson."

Greg probably would've dropped her like a sack of potatoes if he wasn't in the presence of the elders, but since he was, he set her down gently.

Miranda Knight glared around at everyone, particularly Elder Stanton.

Andrew glanced down at the girl, pity the only emotion he could muster. He remembered Miranda very clearly; she was four years old when her family was banned. Rosalie had been eight, and hadn't ever met the Knight's youngest daughter.

Andrew wondered if he should've kept the child here, instead of sending her off with the rest of her family. It wasn't her fault her parents made bad choices, yet it seemed that the young girl had inherited the knack to make bad decisions, as she was here when she knew she shouldn't be.

"What brings you here Miranda Amelia Knight?" A woman's voice, clear and strong, asked bluntly.

Rosalie saw that it was Marie Winters, Alexander's mother, who had spoken. She was one of the youngest elders, alongside her father. Elders were handpicked by preceding elders. It was sort of like a monarchy, only it didn't have to be in the same family.

There were also stewards and stewardesses that could stand in for an elder-to-be that was to young to take over if an elder was murdered. That was rare, as the elders had learned a long time ago that they were targets above anybody else, and so had secluded themselves inside this very room, the highest in the entire mansion.

Miranda didn't answer, only gave her a glare.

Rosalie turned to her, "Well go on. Tell them why you're here. You didn't have any problems with telling everyone who was in the training rooms."

Greg was standing behind her, ready to grab her if she ran for it. Not that she could get anywhere; the doors were closed and only opened if the elders wanted it open.

"Spit it out girl!" Marie demanded yet again.

Miranda remained silent, and Rosalie began pacing in front of her.

"So, your family still helping out the vampires Knight?"

Miranda's lips curled back, "Shut up you stupid whore!"

Rosalie ignored the profanity, but her father certainly didn't, nor did any of the other elders.

"You have no right-" mixed with cries of "Enough!" caused chaos in the large room.

Miranda swung her feet around, knocking Greg off his feet. It appeared that she learned quickly. With him out of the way, she struggled to her feet, lurching towards the door.

Rosalie bounded after her, tackling her to the ground and holding her ground as the young girl tried to kick her off.

"Sorry kiddo, can't let you leave."

She spit in the blonde's face, "Piss off! I want to go home. My parents don't even know that I left, let alone the fact that some vampire's going to be furious that his donor is missing. You think they'll let a donor rot away inside the dungeon of some hunter mansion?"

Rosalie didn't budge.

"You think we can't take 'em?"

Winters helped Dawson to his feet, and they rushed over to help Rosalie. Each of them grabbed an arm, and began pulling her to her feet. As they did that, Rosalie stood up to get off of her, and Miranda took the opportunity to send a kick to her gut.

"Oof," Rosalie muttered, clutching her pained stomach, trying to get as far away from her as possible. Her father rushed over to her, picking her up and moving her away from them. He turned to elder Greene.

"What are we to do with her?"

Charles Greene thought long and hard about what to do, and his conclusion was to, as Miranda had predicted, put her in the dungeons.