Chapter 1: Marauders:
Humans don't really know much about vampires, James thought as he opened his eyes. They think: "Oh sure, they're immortal and they drink blood – and they're really strong and really fast". Some victims found out about the special individual ability, some found out that their eyes changed color depending on how full their stomachs were; hell, most victims learned about the invulnerability-factor pretty quickly.
But there were still a few things you didn't know until you were a vampire yourself.
Like the forced-flashback thing.
Laurent called it the "automatic replay" (he had a name for everything). When a vampire was wounded or incapacitated, instead of blacking out like a human would, it relived a couple of significant memories, pivotal moments in its life. According to Laurent, it was hell. James disagreed; his life as a vampire had been awesome. Not perfect, not without difficulties, but still awesome.
Up until the moment the Cullens outsmarted him, of course.
He lay sprawled on his back, his body aching with hunger and exhaustion. The fight with Edward hadn't exactly been fair – Edward must have fed recently, and he'd travelled to Phoenix by car instead of running – but James was far more experienced, more vicious and more battle-ready than the idiotic prettyboy. Therefore Edward only barely managed to pin him to the floor, after a brawl that had smashed several mirrors and wooden pillars in the studio to pieces.
Now Edward was pulling James up, twisting the other vampire's head back and baring his teeth.
You wanna bite me, now? James thought incredulously. What are you, a Reaper? Never mind; you won't know what I'm talking about. You're too much of a wuss to have ever watched Blade.
He never found out if Edward was going to bite him or not, because his nose suddenly detected three more golden-eyed vampires.
Moments later, Carlisle and his other two foster sons leapt through an upper window like ninjas with makeup on, neatly landing on their feet and rushing to Edward's side.
"It's a good thing you're not a ninja," Laurent remarked as Victoria came rushing down the hall behind him. "You make far too much noise,"
"She's Victoria, mate," James said, brushing his hand through his wet hair. "Loud and lovely,"
The three of them had broken into a Seattle couple's home half an hour before. Laurent took down the man, while the other two dragged the woman to the bedroom and shared her. Now Laurent was sitting on the sofa; his eyes focused on the TV, his arms folded and his feet propped up on the back of the bloodied corpse that was draped over the coffee table in front of him. Sweets, popcorn and broken bottles were scattered across the floor, clinging to the bloodstains like breadcrumbs to syrup.
"Do you know how hard it is to concentrate on a damn movie with you two fornicating in the next room?" Laurent leapt up, gesturing to an inch-wide crack in the wall separating the living room from the bedroom.
Victoria glanced over his shoulder at the screen, where Daniel Radcliffe was trying to save Gary Oldman from a swarm of Dementors.
"Prisoner of Azkaban," she said, frowning. "Haven't you seen this one before?"
"I'm pretty sure he has," James said from behind her.
"I still want to see the ending," Laurent hissed indignantly.
"Gary Oldman gets away," James said helpfully. "He always survives – he's Gary Oldman,"
"Except in Bram Stoker's Dracula," Victoria added.
"I still. Want. To. See. It. Happen!" Laurent insisted, waving his arms up and down for emphasis.
"Why so serious?" James asked, catching Victoria's eye.
Laurent gave him a dirty look.
"Sorry. But I mean, come on," James said, chuckling. "I know you've watched it before. See, I remember your reaction the first time you saw Lupin transform. You were scared shitless,"
Another dirty look.
"You're wearing a towel," Laurent said, as if this was somehow supposed to make James bow his head in shame.
It didn't.
"I had to take a shower," he said simply. "Girl's blood was all over me,"
"Actually, we wanted to tell you something," Victoria said to Laurent, her eyes lingering on James' bare chest.
"I'm all ears," Laurent said lazily, turning his head to watch as Michael Gambon talked to the kids in the hospital wing.
"I picked up another flatliner," Victoria said. "A girl, somewhere between fifteen and twenty. No sense of self-preservation whatsoever. I can't figure out what her deal is, so I thought maybe we should go have a look."
Victoria's ability was self-preservation; not only did it make her the Houdini of vampires, it also allowed her to detect the strength of other people's survival instincts. The radius of her ability was far larger than that of James' nose or Laurent's "misery business" (that was what he called his own skill; he could sense when and where people experienced misery, despair or hopelessness).
"Sounds interesting, I suppose," Laurent said. "Is it really deep, like clinical depression, or is it a shallow self-loathing like you get with those emo kids? Or does it bounce up and down? Cause that would be a bipolar disorder,"
"I don't know yet," Victoria said. "She's too far away – right on the edge of my radar. There's no way James could pick up her scent from here,"
"Well, that's exactly the kind of crack police work I expect out of you guys,"
"Could you stop jerking around, please?"
"Yeah, come on, man," James added. "This could be your next meal – or Vicky's next meal, if you don't want it. Are you really going to sit here when that girl could jump off a building any time soon? Or a cliff, for that matter,"
"I didn't just 'sit here', you know," Laurent retorted. "I went through the guy's pockets. Apart from some cash, which is always appreciated, I found this,"
He fished in his pocket, digging out a car key and throwing it to James, who caught it easily.
"A minivan?" James could feel his eyebrows lifting. "Are you kidding me?"
"Hey, they're not bad," Laurent said. "Besides, all three of us were hippies, once upon a time. This is gonna be like a blast from the past,"
"From that extremely cliché'd line, I assume you're saying yes," Victoria said, smiling. "Perfect,"
"Awesome!" James grinned.
"Get dressed first, you dirty man-whore," Laurent growled. "And let me watch the last five minutes in peace and quiet,"