( I originally wasn't going to add a second chapter to this...but it just seemed to good to make stop where it did. The first chapter was inspired off a dream the Michelle told me she had, so this one will be completely...out of nowhere. Haha. And, just as a prewarning, I've been listening to "Memories" by Within Temptation while writing this, so who knows what effect that will have. That's right, we're James fangirls. It happens. Though, Michelle totally has me beat in that category. I'm content with Laurent. :D )

"I think I just don't like real life guys. I always want some power or mystery...but sadly, it doesn't exist."

The words rang through his mind as he sat atop the roof, looking up at the moon. Her voice echoed in the vampire's head, as it always did after he'd been silently listening to or spying on her. It was a rather demented obsession, but he was a hunter after all.

This particular evening he had been perched not far from the window of her dorm, listening to her converse with a friend.

'It does not exist, you think?'

He chuckled to himself. If only she knew. She had to have some idea, of course- especially after their little chase through the streets of Maryland. Was she in denial to believe it possible? Either way, he should not be the one to prove the existence of the paranormal to her. Still...

Nothing had been the same since that first encounter. He spent far too many hours convincing himself that a silly human girl had not led him to this state. He had not ventured to Florida, the land of sun, because she had gone off to college in the state. He had not been so pensive these days because of her. No. None of it could be the way it seemed. In time he convinced himself that it was merely the thrill of the cat and mouse game that had led him to tailing her.

Even around Victoria, he had not been the same. Though, she had supportively wished him luck on this secret pursuit he had told her of, leaving out the details. She was incredibly confident in him. A smile drew over his lips as he thought this. Their relationship was so unlike many. There was little physical or emotional interaction between them. In a sense, it was a professional relationship- her being his personal cheerleader. She was probably the only type of mate that would be able to tolerate him. Yet, they had been distant lately. Was it because of...?

His deep ruby gaze looked to the window of the dorm room. With his immortal vision, he could still see it...into it...her... Well, her shadows, at least. She had drawn the curtains shut several hours ago. He could still make out her silhouette through the fabric.

With all the grace of a spider on a string, he slipped closer. It was like an addiction. He had no knowing of what drew him to her. In the end, he found himself not caring, but only knowing that the desire was there.

She was his new chase. However, somehow it felt as though he was the one being baited.

He sat outside her window at the closest perch possible, trying to eavesdrop. The hum of the building's air conditioning system complicated that, unfortunately for him. Her shadows appeared to be readying for something, bustling around the room. At one point she appeared to be changing her clothing, and though there was a curtain between them, James looked away courteously.

Then the lights went out.

James frowned. Had she gone to bed? Disappointment flooded through him for an instant. Then, through the curtain he saw a sliver of brightness for a few seconds. She had opened a door and exited the room.

In an instinctive movement, he was on the roof of the dormitories, prowling around the edges like a gargoyle to see which side she would emerge from. In the eastern parking lot, three girls sat in a still-running car. James body crouched closer to the roof as he watched his temptress make her way toward them.

'A girls' night out, is it?'

Pursuing the vehicle was more complicated than he would have preferred. It was not because he was not fast enough, but more because he had to take detours to avoid being seen by others. Florida was quite high in population at this time of year, full of snowbird people who had taken off south to avoid the cold. The sun was barely set, so the streets were still full of life.

Eventually he was left following her scent alone, clouded by the fumes of cars and pedestrians. The first level of the chase ended in front of a tall building. The doors were high and arched, neon signs breaking through the on-coming night from above them.

"Interesting," he looked up at the lights, a brow raising as he pondered. A club?

"Dude, are you coming in or just gonna' stand out here?"

James turned to the voice, seeing a man who physically looked not much older than himself, wearing a black security shirt.

He had never been one for the club scene. There were many humans, all sweating and rubbing against one another as they danced about. Scents were confined into a solid building, taunting his senses and nearly making his mouth water.

Tonight was different. He was on a mission.

Tonight there was something teasing him that was stronger than hunger.

People stopped when he entered. Some stepped aside, staring in admiration. Inside, he smirked. Humans were so easily influenced by beauty. The sea of people parted for him as he searched, the heavy beats of the progressive rock enveloping them all. Flashing lights and strobes tested his vision.

Two times women of the more courageous stature offered to by him a drink. He didn't answer, but walked away from them. He wanted no interaction with anyone but his target. Not to mention, he had no craving to have a beverage in the pit of his stomach that would have no effect on him in any manner, except to test his upchuck reflex at a later date.

To his dismay, he did not see her. He did not smell her. He did not sense her at all. A sigh escaped him.

"Looking for someone?"

James froze in his footsteps. The voice that spoke the words was not his own, nor was it screamed over the music. It was spoken by someone who knew his elite hearing would pick it up.

Now brought to his attention, he picked up on this new scent, one he had been so oblivious to before with his vixen on his mind.

The unknown man sat at the bar. He had no drink in hand, but was relaxed, a grin spread over his elegant lips. He was every bit as beautiful, if not that then more so, as James. He was not of the mortal type, either.

Hesitantly, James made his way in the others' direction. "Yes, actually."

"Anyone I might have seen?"

Still nervous about the idea of describing his hunt to this mysterious individual, he gave a brief explanation of her outfit. To his surprise, the man's smile brightened.

"Yes, her. I saw her. She headed out about quarter an hour ago."

She had left? James hissed softly and darted from the bar. He would investigate the strange man another time. There were more important things on his mind.

Hasty exits from clubs that contained bars were seldom looked at as an oddity, so no one looked twice as he sped out onto the sidewalks, into the open air. It snaked around him and he closed his eyes, breathing in, welcomingly. This was all he needed. Her scent overtook him once again and he gave into it, willingly, tracing her path. It went on nearly a block and a half. There was a pharmacy ahead. Had she forgotten something and headed in that direction? He hadn't smelled smoke on her breath, so he doubted she was on a mission for cigarettes.

Michelle's scent was something that had become so clearly embedded in his mind. It wasn't overwhelming, but quite subtle. Yet, it was very distinct- lilacs and warm vanilla, if he had to label it.

This distinction was what caught him off guard as he stopped at the edge of the walk. Directly in front of him was the smell of unfamiliar people and distant salt water. He panicked momentarily, wondering if he had lost her trail. Then, a breeze lead him again, turning his attentions between two buildings the rested beside him. An alley? Why would she have...?

Another frozen moment, the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end. Everything about him stilled, movement, breath, everything. He listened intently. A quiet scuffle came from deeper into the shadows. The sound he heard next was some that made every bit of nonexistent adrenaline course through his cold veins.

A gasp.

A chuckle, a very male chuckle.

He slipped into the darkness, his eyes immediately adjusting as he drew closer. Then he saw his competition.

There was Michelle, her back pressed to the chest of a burly man. His arm snaked around her body, holding a white handkerchief over her mouth.

Another man, more lean and shorter than the other, was standing in front of them, grinning as he dug through the helpless girls' purse.

No. Not helpless.

Right now she was struggling against her holder, twisting and turning in hopes to wrench herself free. If he had been a less muscular man he probably would not have been able to keep his grip.

"Now, now, gorgeous. Feisty, eh? You're making this a lot more complicated than it has to be."

She screamed into the handkerchief, but it's pillowing sound made her voice sound far off, quiet and distant.

A low hiss rose in James' throat. His eyes grew a deeper red as the blood in his system all but boiled with anger. These men would dare touch his precious huntress in such a way?

Michelle twisted again, her elbow finally making contact with the larger man's stomach. He grunted, nearly doubling as his wind was knocked out of him.

"Bitch!" He snarled, then shoved her, hard, into the side of side of the dumpster that was just a couple feet away.

She squeaked at the impact, then crumpled to the ground, mostly out of surprise than anything.

The man rubbed his stomach and straightened back up. The look on his face was now one of disgust. "Think you're tough, huh? I'll show you tough, you stupid broad."

What could have happened next could have been terrifying. It could have been emotionally wounding and life-long scarring. It could have been vulgar in an unjust...one of those things you hear of nearly every day, but never see with your own eyes.

But this was not what happened next.

A deep but shrill cry filled the alley, echoing off of the surrounding buildings. All eyes looked upward just in time to see the bottom of the lanky man tossed through the air, over the dumpster, flailing like a helpless rag doll.

In the place where he previously stood, was James. His teeth bared, lips curled back as he growled.

The larger man looked at him with an awkward expression before smirking. "You wanna' play this game too, buddy?"

James' voiced hissed with his rage.
"I...am no 'buddy' of yours."

The accoster laughed.
"Oh really? Come to save the helpless victim?"

Scarlet hues slid to Michelle. She was standing again, clutching her side. James could see this man had obviously grabbed her in a more than impolite fashion. How dare he spoil her? His filthy hands never deserved to lay upon her ever. EVER.

The vampire snarled, a deep and menacing sound, his body taking on a crouched attack position.

The large man paled. He reeked of fear, seeping it from nearly every pore. "What the hell?"

"Don't play games you don't intend to finish."

In an ungraceful spin, the man took off deeper into the alley. It was not a dead end and he must have known that this.

'Perfect.'

Lips still curled and now taking on a sadistic twist, he leapt after his new prey. It was hardly a chase, sadly. The man's size made him slow. His friend was too scared to move quickly. He took them both down, unmercilessly, and in less than a moment.

Sometimes, however, the prey can reflect the meal. The blood was pleasing, but not satisfying. It tasted impure and bitter on James' tongue. He believed intentions effected taste. Victoria had once told him it was a mental quirk of his, but it was true to him, none the less.

As he pulled from the limp bodies, he inhaled, reached up with his arm to brush away any spare drops of blood that may have dared stain his lips. His glory was short-lived...

Another gasp.

He turned quickly and saw her. She was standing there, watching him, skin white as a sheet- no, white as his own skin.

'Please, don't run.'

"Michelle..." His voice sounded course, changing from the warm liquids that he'd just consumed.

'Don't be frightened.'

She stared at him. He stared back at her, anticipating her next more. The hunter never makes the first move, after all. A true hunter lets his prey come to him.

Her eyes, green, noticeable only to him in this light, danced over him, then the corpses beneath him.

'Don't scream. Don't run.'

"You." She whispered.

He tilted his head, ever so slightly, waiting for her to continue.

"What...who are you?"

The question startled him. She had began with the question he had expected her to voice- "what are you?" But, she had changed in mid sentence. She was so very different from the rest.

There was no sense in denying things now.

Slowly, he stood and held his breath. How was he supposed to answer a curiosity such as this one?

'The truth.'

"James. I am a tracker."

"You're..." She looked at the bodies once more, then winced, holding tighter to her ribcage.

Deep inside the vampire, something stirred. Concerned, he stepped forward. She stilled, but did not move away.

"You're injured. Let's take you somewhere."

"But it's not my birthday anymore."

He paused, blinked, then smiled. "Perhaps not."

What date was her birthday, again? He thought a moment, counting the days it had been from that particular date. A realization occurred to him and he grinned wider.

"What?" She watched his facial expressions with confusion.

James shook his head, then carefully picked her up into his arms. Wordlessly, he carried her from the alley.

The excuse was not hard to conjure up. The heels on her shoes were more than enough of a convincing alibi. They reached the back entrance of the club, the stairs in tow. James' cries for help were heard by the security guards near instantly.

The club owner apologized profusely as Michelle was packed up into the ambulance. She even was so forgiving to James for accidentally ripping her shirt while trying to catch her as she fell.

No one had to know.

"Why were you following me?"

James sat in the chair beside the hospital cot, staring ahead at the whitewash wall. He said nothing, for it was a question even he did not know the answer to.

"Were you hunting me?"

This he could answer.
"Yes."

She was silent, thinking about this.
"But not like you were hunting those men."

Brows raising, he nodded once. She was quite observant.

"Thank you," she whispered.

James looked at her, bewildered.
"For what?"

The girl smiled at him, then looked away.
"For saving me. For following me, I suppose. If you hadn't, well, those men..."

Her voice trailed away into silence, but it didn't need to be finished. Both of them already knew the answer.

There was a heavy silence that flowed between them after that moment. It would have been awkward, had the two not both been lost in thought.

James' mind spun in a web of everything that had happened with them. Perhaps...it would not be so bad to have a friend who was human. He could control his cravings and could surely protect her if anyone was foolish enough to use her against him.

A friend. That was what she was, correct?

"James?"

Her voice yanked him from his epiphany as he turned to her.

The smile on her face was soft. It amazed him how she could be so gentle, but so strong all at the same time.

"Yes?"

"Thank you, again."

She did like to thank people, didn't she?

"For what this time?"

Shaking her head a fraction, she looked down at the blankets.
"All of it. I guess what it all boils down to is that this is, in a weird way, an amazing birthday present. I mean, great and amazing people are hard to come by, so I tend to treasure it when it happens."

He chuckled quietly, then shook his head as well, mimicking her action. "No."

"No?" She blanked at him, taken aback.

Lips smiling that in that reassuring, but still predatory way, he leaned over her hospital bed, touching his nose to her cheek while his eyes closed so he could take her in.
"You already had your gift. Today...is mine..."

The words melted into a whisper, flowing into a shared kiss.

Michelle smiled against the contact, the understanding dawning on her as she whispered against his breath.
"Happy Birthday, James."