James and Victoria: unrequited love
her name was Victoria, she was most beautiful female I'd ever seen, with bright red fiery hair like a sunset reflected in water, in a sleek mane of curls cascading down her back, her eyes were the shape of symmetrical almonds, and were a rich crimson from her diet of human blood, she was tall and lithe, and moved with a cat-like grace that only she possessed, there was something inherently feline about her features, the angle of her eyebrows, the curve of her full lips, the shape of her chin, the high elegant cheekbones, she was magnificent, she was mine. I didn't, couldn't love her, but I desired her, needed her, not only was she beautiful, but she was useful. When we hunted,, if the prey was male she would slink out of the shadows, and smile, beckon to them, call them in with her musical voice, they would follow dizzily, and when they came close enough her wonderful spicy sweet scent would wash over them, intoxicate them, then it was my turn, she would keep them entranced, while I would creep from behind, and before the realized what had happen, their blood was pouring down my throat, and then Victoria's, this was only when we were hungry, when we hunted for need, not pleasure. When I was on the hunt, the real hunt I could almost feel the long lost adrenaline pulsing through my dry veins, hear the ghost of my heartbeat pounding in my ears, I stalked them, I followed them as long as they ran, and when they tried to take a stand with foolish ideas of a miracle, thinking it was like in the ancient stories, the epic battles in which good always triumphed, they were wrong of course, I would chase them down I would corner them, sometimes they would plead for mercy, sometimes they would stand their ground and try to fight me off, no matter, I would snap their fragile bones like toothpicks all the same, when I had defeated them, the sweet nectar of their blood no longer pulsed beneath their thin skin, I would leave them, sucked dry for someone to find, or if I was feeling particularly sadistic, I would leave them where a loved one would find their festering corpse weeks later. There was something sweeter about the blood of my victims, the ones I had to hunt, then the ones Victoria and I lured in, and dispatched quickly.
Victoria:
James loved me, I knew he did, I didn't care what Laurent told me, I knew he did, when he placed his arms around me, and breathed in my scent, when he kissed me, hard, pushing me into the ground, when he stroked my face, and grabbed my hair pulling me to him I knew he loved me, and when his eyes burned into mine I was so sure, I knew there was no way, no such thing as being incapable of love, he felt it, I knew it, and I knew he did too. But when he left to hunt alone, to track prey obsessively for days, when I was away from the intoxicating influence of his voice, his scent his eyes, his fair perfect hair, I wasn't so sure, sometimes reflectively I thought for moments, only brief moments that Laurent was right, that James didn't love me, but my body. But then James would return and as soon as I saw his face, and he pulled me close and embraced me I forgot to ask, forgot to care, because as long as he was with me it didn't matter as long as I loved him, some part of him would love me whether he knew or not…
James:
It worked like I thought it would, a few "tender" actions towards her and she was convinced it was love, I didn't love her, sometimes I almost forgot that, she was so devoted, I knew I wouldn't even have to ask her to be my mate, I almost wished I loved her, that I could, but love was a weakness, as a human I had experienced that, and I hadn't tried to love since and I knew I wouldn't ever again, Victoria was slave-like in her mindless obsession, the tiniest things made her believe, I didn't dare to rectify the situation, tell her what I didn't feel and what I did, as long as I let her believe I would be fine, and who knew some day I might have use of her…