Shadow Dance: A Twilight Drabble

Author's Note: So, I just kind of wondered if James would be fun to write. And he is, he is! This is my first attempt at him, so it's a little rough, but hopefully I'll get better. It's a teensy bit morbid, though, so warning.

Disclaimer: Twilight is not mine. I would never ruin the manly evilness of an antagonist by sticking him with one of those chicks with the squeaky voices that just make you want to duct tape their mouths. Even if she is hot.

It was like a dance in the shadows, dark and sweet and perfectly choreographed.

He and Victoria had been together long enough to be able to read each other exactly, to see what the other was thinking in their sleek motions or small signals—a flicker of the eye, flaring of the nostrils, the slightest clench of a fist. It made them able to operate together all that much more efficiently. After a hundred years, that efficiency just made an easy job effortless. By now, they could pick out the ones that no one would miss, harvest them like the inferior beings they were.

Females were hard for him to resist, as soft, pliable and warm as they were; so he had hovered outside in the alley beside the strip joint while Victoria had gone in to work her audience. When she came out, he felt a wave of desire—her scanty clothed figure was an echo of the night he had decided to change her—followed by a stronger wave of hunger. She had a young girl grasped in her arms, one steely hand clamped over her mouth. Victoria's catch couldn't have been over nineteen. Too young to have been able to purchase the wine that stained her white bra and skirt. Her eyes were darting wildly about.

"I brought her for you," Victoria purred. "I know how you like to hear them scream." At that, the girl did attempt to make a noise, but it was so muffled by her captor's hand that only the vampires' acute hearing could catch it.

James chuckled darkly. "How…thoughtful."

After they had fed that night, James and Victoria made love, covered in blood and laughing.