A/N: okay, I'm pretty sure I want to continue this but I'm not sure, just think of it as a story unless I do another chapter specifically saying it was a one-shot. Please don't steal my idea guys, it's flattering that it might inspire you to write something of your own but please, don't steal this idea—I've spent hours on it.

Don't own anything

Victoria's point of view:

I was numb. His fist came down on me hard as I fought to get away, his hands groped my blood stained sundress and he tore at it with greedy fingers. My scream came out muffled under the sweaty hand on my lips. Tears made white streaks on his dirty palm and he smirked. He pushed me down onto the sand under the boardwalk and straddled me.

Even as he committed the unthinkable my mind kept churning over the only sentence my brain could comprehend. I still love you Daddy.

When he was done he rolled off, pulled on his clothes and started to beat my bare body. His belt came down with the crack of leather on my back and his fists like molted steel. His words were as cold as ice as he screamed at me in his drunken rampage.

"I hate you! You're not even mine, you don't look like me! You don't look like me!" he screamed. "You're the reason she's dead! You killed her; you killed your own mother the second you were born as her punishment for adultery, for the sin of making you! You shouldn't be alive, you shouldn't have been born! We would have lived in peace and happiness if it weren't for you!"

He kicked my chest and I heard rather than felt the resounding crack that ran through the air like electricity. I couldn't breathe. I tried to scream but could only gurgle against the blood rising in my throat. Scarlet flew down my chin, splattering on the white sand. Convulsions rocked through me at the sight of my own blood and I heard my father gasp—this had never happened before.

Our heads snapped up at the sound of footsteps running down the boardwalk over us in response to my screams. His blue eyes widened and he crouched down as if ready to pounce. I grabbed for him with a blood soaked hand.

"Don't leave me daddy, I love you, don't leave me. I'm sorry, I'm sorry." I cried; my voice crackling and thick.

"I'm not your father." He snarled. "You're his and someday I'll find you and kill you just like I've wanted to do to him for the last seventeen years."

The pair of footsteps grew louder and he turned and ran. I was growing dizzy and saw the world through a haze, the last thing I saw was my rescuer before me, my angel.

James's point of view:

The boardwalk was abandoned as I walked along it, my wet shoes staining the old wood. Breathing in the briny ocean air I watched the massive swells rolling onto the white sand, sparkling in the last light. Stars slowly appeared through the swirl of colors in the sunset and my fingers tingled for my charcoal, to copy the moment onto canvas.

Over the waves I heard a slight squeal and I gave a quizzical look to under the boardwalk where the sound had come from. Shaking it off I continued walking and froze when a series of piercing screams rang through the air. I ran towards the sound and heard muffled talking and shouts and then more screams.

I sprinted towards them, my feet banging loudly on the wood and kicked up sand as I reached the beach. My eyes grew wide at the sight of her. A girl lying on the sand, blood and bruises covered her pale naked body and blood matted her curly orange hair. The light in her large green eyes was fading as her heaving chest slowed and blood poured out of her mouth.

I froze. The scarlet oozing from her was tantalizing, caramel and plums, so sweet it made my lips drop open, already thinking of the feel of the liquid gold sliding along lips and teeth, pouring through my throat.

Immediately my identity in the girl's life changed from rescuer to murderer.

Drawing closer I could barely contain myself. Images flashed through my mind and I relished in them, bitter sweet venom filling my mouth and turning my eyes red.

My lips against her body, my tongue licking up the dried red. My mouth against hers, licking it off her teeth. Sinking teeth into the pale skin of her neck, to hear the satisfying pop as I broke through it. Wine colored blood, smooth as silk touching me, running through me…

Watching her eyes glaze shut, seeing the fire in them waste away. Her body drained white and cold. Her lips no longer ruby red, her hair like blood on snow. Her face frozen eternally in horror and pain.

I hesitated. To see such passion wasted at the hands of me, it was an indescribable thought. Although battered and broken she was beautiful, and to see it sucked away, even to imagine it left a cold feeling in my chest. The venom faded in my mouth, back to where it came from and I realized what my body had been trying to tell me.

I couldn't kill her.

Going against every rule I had made for myself I bit her, and didn't drink, didn't lap up the liquid fire running through her veins. Somehow I resisted, although how will always remain hidden from me, though clear to all else.

It was love at first sight, that unimaginable feeling of when you first see someone and you know that this it. You were made for that person and you could never leave them, never hurt them, even if you wanted to.

Her eyes flew open and she clutched her throat, scratching where the indent of my teeth lay.

"Fire." She whimpered. She panted loudly, her chest heaving. "Fire, my throat is on fire, help me, I can't breathe, my lungs….Help!" She screamed as the venom started circulating within her and for once I showed sympathy, pity.

Grabbing her I ran and sat us down in the water, not knowing what else to do. Bumps rose on her skin from the cold against my fingers and she looked at me with a wavering smile on her lips.

"Thank you." She whispered. We sat like that through the entire night, letting the waves lap around us. I was lost in her eyes and she in mine. Moonlight made her hair translucent and white and the sunrise made it shine like fire. She was amazing. As I watched she began to change, her freckles fading away, the color of her eyes replaced with black and then ruby.

When people started to arrive I swam out with her in my arms and treaded water for the rest of her transformation. If someone had asked me how long it was I wouldn't have been able to answer. Five minutes? An hour? It was impossible to tell, impossible to think or to even want to when she was staring at me like that.

Victoria's point of view:

My angel. He held me and comforted me, he took away the pain. Although it was still there I didn't notice it, how could I while staring into such perfection? He had deathly pale skin that shone like diamonds in the sun. His hair was the color of chocolate and the texture of silk. When he spoke I could practically feel the velvet in it, and I wanted so much to caress his lips as they shaped my name. He had lashes that a girl would kill for, black and so long they cast shadows against his cheekbones. His jaw line was defined and angular, his eyes like windows to his soul, so caring and sincere. He had a crescent shaped scar on the edge of his left eyebrow that brought a motherly side in me that I didn't know I had. It made me want to comfort and hold him, to rock him in my arms.

We swayed in the waves, he never grew tired, never even loosened his grip on me. By the time we washed ashore it seemed that his fingers were molded to my skin and when they separated the places where he had touched me burned.

"What's your name?" He said; his voice smoldering and smooth.

"Victoria, yours?" I smiled at it, after locked in an embrace for days I didn't even know his name.

He froze and his eyes turned into stones. "Call me a lion for I'm just as dangerous for you to be with." He said without emotion.

"Well perhaps angels have no names, just beautiful faces." I murmured, caressing his cheek with timid fingers.

He flinched underneath me and then put his hand over mine, clutching it to his face.

"Just to persuade you that I am no such angel, my name is James Hartley."

"James…" I mused. There's no god of the name James. Who are you? Apollo? Poseidon? Adonis?"

"If I am meant to be mistaken for Adonis than you must be not Victoria but Aphrodite. No, if I was a god I would be Hermes, the guide of dead souls to the underworld."

"What?"

James's point of view:

I froze at my mistake. I needed more time, I couldn't tell her now. I needed her, in more ways than I thought possible, and if I told her—she would run away. I needed time and that was exactly what I had run out of. But I couldn't continue this...this minute romance. She had to know.

"…Look at me, what do you see."

"The most beautiful rose red eyes I've ever seen on snowy white skin. Violet bags underneath long lashes, baby pink lips and teeth that flash in the sun."

"Exactly, my eyes reflect my drink of choice, my skin pale because of death. Purple rings from sleep I'll never have. I'm a vampire Victoria—and that pain that you've suffered, that was because of me—I bit you. We're of the same kin now."

Victoria's point of view:

I knew his lips had continued to move but the noise didn't reach my mind. A vampire.

Improbable.

Implausible.

Not Possible.

But I couldn't help but believe him. It clicked; every last piece was falling into place. But that meant…that I was one of them to. A vamp, a blood-drinker; one of the un-dead. That couldn't be possible, how could I be dead when I felt so alive.

Though my eyes had glazed over I still saw the look of pain and fear on his beautiful face.

"What's the matter?" I whispered, my fingers gently touching the creases that had been made in the marble skin of his forehead.

"You're not afraid? You're not going to run away screaming now that you know the monster that lurks under the surface? You don't hate me that I made you into one of us? That you can't go back?" He said; his tone incredulous and disbelieving.

"I don't care. I don't care about your diet or the fact that you think you're a monster. I'm glad that you changed me because I met you. Tell me more; I want to know what we are."

His expression was mystified and still unbelieving but he un-willingly began to speak. "When I saw you I bit you, and I didn't drink. We have venom like snakes that paralyze our victims and put them through unbelievable pain. When that venom gets into your blood stream and stays there, you turn into one of us. After you're changed some of the characteristics that mark you as one of us is that you have skin so cold and pale you look dead—which you are. You're eyes are red from your human blood still in you. When it runs out and you become thirsty they will gradually darken to black, when you feed again they'll turn back to red. Some vampires have tried different diets that aren't natural. When one eats mammals they're eyes are yellow, with sap they turn orange, and your eyes turn silver if you drink cold-blooded animals. I have tried all these methods but I, and everyone else I know who has tried, has gone back to our natural diet of humans. When you are changed everything about you is intensified to make you into the perfect predator. You turn amazingly beautiful, you're voice sounds like silk; even you're smell turns irresistible. Your sight, hearing, strength, smell, taste and grace greatly intensify also and you don't age. It's possible that we can live forever unless we are shred to pieces and burned. But along with the good our kind is also cursed with the bad. We sparkle in the sunlight, making it impossible to go out in public in the sun. Humans are naturally scared of us and blame us on many crimes. We can't sleep or even doze. And you can't drink blood like martinis, it's an incredible urge that never fully goes away—it takes years to be able to go out in public and once you get a taste of it, you can't stop. Like sharks—if you smell even a drop of it, you won't be able to resist unless you have been for many years.

But some things aren't true about us. We don't burn in the sunlight, we don't sleep in coffins and we don't have fangs.

We also have rules. The Volturi is a very powerful, very strong family of vampires that live in Italy. When people expose our secret in any way, or go on too large of a killing spree they'll show up and they won't be afraid to kill you—Is that what you wanted to know?"

My mind was trying to wrap itself around the information he had told me and was failing miserably. We were…monsters. Like sharks? Like snakes? Venom and uncontrollable blood lust with no exit for eternity?

"Well, how were you changed?" I asked, trying to cover up the horror that was finally dawning on me.

Once again the scarlet in his eyes turned to bloody ice and his muscles tightened against me. His eyes were glazed over; back 30, 50 years ago? This man could have been alive for centuries for all I knew.

"I was twenty-two in 1912. I was born and raised in England by my single mother, my father having gone to New York to get better money. My mother had died the winter before in December and we couldn't get a hold of him to let him know, all the letters we sent came back sealed and we didn't have a phone. I whent on what was supposed to be the maiden voyage of the Titanic after scraping together my meager funds for a third class ticket.

When the ship hit our cabins were the first to flood over, by the time I finally woke up, the water was up to my waist. We abandoned everything we owned except for lifejackets and tried to run up to the main deck but the employees had shut the gates, letting only first class and women and children up. We were trapped.

We yelled and shouted and threatened and finally, they abandoned us, the water was rising fast and when it touched you it was like a thousand knives stabbing into your skin over and over. Somehow we managed to open the gate but by then it was too late. When we got up the life boats were gone and we were left to die on the boat.

When it split in half I fell into the water and amazingly landed next to an extremely thirsty vampire. Before my eyes he slid through the water with lightning speed and drained ten people around me, afterwards he took their lifejackets off and kicked their corpses deeper into the water.

He bit me and then abandoned me at the sight of a bleeding child. I lay in extreme agony for what seemed like hours, only staying alive with the fire in my veins burning off the cold.

Finally, some of the life boats came back. In historic records it says that only two came back, but there were three. I was rescued and by morning of the next day my hunger had abated and thirst had replaced it. Though still going through the change I drained the other six people in the boat and threw them overboard. I punched a hole of the boat with my ever growing strength and when it sunk I sunk with it in an attempt of suicide—anything was better than the pain.

"I—" He hesitated and only then did I see how hard it was on him to share this, his chest was rising and falling rapidly and his eyes had turned a reddish grey.

"It's okay." I breathed, wrapping my arms around him. He pulled me closer until I could feel every line of him against me. We stayed like for hours, sobbing into each other's arms.