Katherine pounced on the unsuspecting doe a few metres in front of her. After drinking it dry and pushing the limp carcass off of her skirt and brushing herself down, she looked around for Quentin, the centre of her existence. The word 'love' did not do what Katherine and Quentin felt for each other justice. The tidal wave of emotion that swept over each one at the slightest look, touch, caress, was phenomonal. They would quite liked to have joined a coven, but so far all the groups they'd considered joining had not been able to put up with their irresistable, obvious, desperate need for the other and their love.
Quentin was a mile or so away, drinking the blood of a mountain lion, and Katherine began to run towards him. By the time she'd got there, ten seconds later, he was finished, and dumping the body, with not a mark, scratch or stain on him or his clothes, he turned towards her. His arms went out and she ran into them. They were the perfect height, size and shape for each other, it was as if the Creator had modelled them like jigsaw pieces, destined to fit together forever. She buried her head in his chest before reaching up and around to grab his head and push it down so his mouth met hers, closing her eyes as she did so. Their mouths opened in sychronisation, their tongues touching gently. She wound her hands around his neck and was happy. His hands moved from her waist, round to the front, and under her tight t-shirt. She gave in to his touch, moving her head up and pulling his head towards her bared, white, marble throat. His hands moved up to her chest, and then tore her t-shirt suddenly away from her, and her bra following soon after. They tumbled to the ground of the dwelling and knew no more.
When she looked up, it was dark around her. As she lay back, naked, against the grassy floor of the clearing, her head against Quentin's shoulder. She sighed contentedly.
Esme ran through the forest as fast as her legs could take her. It couldn't be true. She could hear someone, Alice she thought, start after and then decide against it and stop and turn once again in the opposite direction. She knew it was cowardly, running away, but couldn't face them all, with their sympathy and secrets. Of course she loved them, she loved them more than her whole existence. He wouldn't...he loved her. She'd thought, she'd said, he'd said...She shook her head hard, as if to rid herself of the thought. She jumped over the river and came to a juddering halt on the other side and threw herself on the ground, drawing her knees up to her chest and burying her head in her arms. Her body shook with continuous, tearless, emotional sobs. She rocked back and forth in her distress. After a few minutes of following this absurb routine, she heard a twig snap behind her and in one fluid second, her heartbreak – momentarily – forgotten, she turned, crouched and let a dangerous snarl rip from between her bared teeth. She saw it was two other, though unfamiliar, vampires and slowly rose up to stand. She nodded in acknowledgment. The female was stunning, she could compete with Rosalie, thought Esme, with her striking figure and hip-length hair, thick, curly, black hair. Her mate, the male, was also good-looking, of course, although he could not compete with his love.
'Hello. I am Esme, of the...Olympic Coven. Who are you?'
'We are Katherine and Quentin', said the male, gesturing as he introduced.'We are nomads. We are in search of a potential coven to consider, well, taking us in, as such. But so far it has been a challenge to say the least.'
'Oh? As far as I know any vampire coven I have met have been extremely friendly to passing nomads and other visitors. What seems to be their problem?'
Esme was sure that if the female had blood running then she would have blushed, and even the male seems slightly reluctant and embarrassed to answer truthfully. She frowned, confused.
The male answered after a pause. 'Katherine and I...well, we have some...difficulty controlling...well, controlling our desires'. He said the last word delicately, and looked downwards in embarrassment. Esme was forcibly reminded of Rose and Em. She smiled gently at them.
'Well, my..my, well, daughter and son are similar. They destroyed two houses I made for them with the well, fervour of their, um, sexual career.'
The couple seemed reassured, and Esme directed them towards the big house, where she could here her family talking in low voices. The couple disappeared into the trees and the crushing darkness crashed in on Esme again and her knees buckled and she collapsed onto the ground. After a minute or so of helpless shaking and soft moaning on the forest floor, she pulled herself together and got shakily to her feet. She looked back once more at the house that had been her home with the love of her life for a century. Then she turned and ran resolutely into the deep forest.