CW: Gory imagery and discussions of death, car accidents, and suicide. Also CW for smut, choking, light spanking, and biting.
If you've seen An American Werewolf in London, some of this dialogue and the inspiration for it will look familiar to you. If you haven't seen An American Werewolf in London, you should remedy that now-- and no, this is not a werewolf fic, it's still a vampire fic. I'm just using inspiration.
"Evil is a point of view. We are immortal. And what we have before us are the rich feasts that conscience cannot appreciate and mortal men cannot know without regret. God kills, and so shall we..."
- Anne Rice, "Interview With the Vampire"
He watches her closely as he makes dessert, sneaking some of the blood into the chocolate mousse. Vada smokes cigarettes and drinks the rest of the sparkling cranberry juice while she takes deep breaths.
"How are you feeling?" James asks.
"Better," she replies. "Like me again. I don't... I don't really understand it."
He serves up the mousse, it's a dark rusty color, kind of like a red velvet, but not quite. He can smell the copper coming off of it and has to hold himself back from shovelling it all into his mouth. He'll need to hunt while she's asleep. Right now, her sleep schedule should be relatively normal, she'll just need more sleep during the day.
James sets the chocolate mousse in front of her and watches her mouth drop open at the smell of it. He smiles.
"Good, huh?" He asks as he hands her a spoon.
She shovels it into her mouth, nodding as she's consumed by her unknown lust for blood. It makes James fucking giddy. His cock twitches, wanting more of her, wanting all of her. He can picture her making her first kill, the blood dripping down her chin and off of her fangs as they shine like knives in the darkness. He has to force his hands to stay on the table so that he doesn't grab her, throw her back onto the table, and fuck her until her spine snaps.
She'd heal, she just wouldn't know what was going on.
Vada finishes the mousse and then looks at James's with wide eyes, her jaw ticking. He smiles and picks up his spoon, collecting some of it onto the metal. Carefully, he raises it to her lips.
"You want this?"
She nods.
"Open your mouth for me, angel."
She does and he practically moans as she licks her lips. James can't help the smile that spreads across his face. She's going to be a vicious killer, he can smell it on her. She'll be hard to control, but with the right guidance, she'll be like him.
"That's a good girl for me."
She moans as she laps up the rest of the mousse on the spoon and James takes it away once it's clean, replacing it with his lips. He kisses her deeply, relishing the sharp tang of copper on her tongue. His eyes roll back and he sucks on her bottom lip as Vada moans, climbing into his lap.
She begins to grind her hips against his and James feels flames licking the inside of his belly. Her mouth drops to his neck and she begins to suck on the skin as James moans, his cock twitching. He hears her giggle softly as her mouth glides up his neck and she sucks gently on his earlobe.
"You're ready to go again?"
"I'm always ready to go when it comes to you," he breathes as his hands wrap around her waist, her body rocking back and forth creating more and more friction between the two of them. It feels so fucking good. Sex is always incredible after James feeds. He can't wait until she's at her full strength. Then, he can fucking break her.
She starts to moan, and James grabs her by the air and pulls her head back. Vada's fangs have dropped and he smiles. The second their eyes meet, he watches them retract. Her pupils are huge, and the flush in her cheeks looks like two big bright pink dots, almost doll-like.
"God, you're fucking beautiful," he groans.
She giggles as she shimmies backward and unzips his jeans while James pushes her dress up past her hips. She puts her hands on his shoulders and pushes herself up a little. The second the tip of his cock slides through her folds, he feels them dripping for her.
He beams.
"Ride me, malyshka. Be a good girl for me."
"I'm always a good girl for you," she whispers, her pretty red lips curling upward into a sly smile.
The change has given her a fire that James has never seen before. He's addicted to it.
Vada begins to sink onto his cock and both of them moan in unison before their mouths collide in a hungry and desperate kiss. His hands squeeze his waist while her fingers run through his hair. She's fucking him hard.
Desperate and aching.
He can feel her squeezing him, her gorgeous dripping cunt clenching him like a fucking vice. He can't wait to have her for an eternity.
She whimpers into his mouth as James feels nothing but pure bliss coursing through his veins. He breaks the kiss and drags his lips along her jawline, one hand sliding down her waist to grip her ass as hard as he can.
He smacks it. Hard, and she yelps.
"You can take it, malyshka."
"More," she begs. "Harder."
He hits her again and she begins to bounce faster and faster, her fingers leave his hair and sink into his shoulders hard enough to leave fingerprints. James brings his metal hand up to wrap around her throat and squeeze as hard as he can. Vada lets out a ragged, broken whine, her eyes rolling back.
"Yeah, you fuckin' like that, don't you? You like when I hurt you?"
She nods and he snarls like an animal. Vada naturally echoes the sound back to him as James dips his head and moves his hand down just a few inches. He presses his lips to her neck, dragging a fang across her skin. It only drives her crazier, and he can feel his climax building second by second.
His fangs pierce her skin and instantly, he feels Vada come, squeezing his cock and bouncing faster and faster. She's screaming his name over and over again.
He drinks for a few seconds and then laves at the wound with his tongue, watching it close.
"Good girl," he groans. "Good fuckin' girl."
She can't even hear him right now, swept up in pure bliss. Her head is thrown back and she's completely lost. For the last time, he'll feel her skin heat up like this beneath his touch. For the last time, he'll feel her heartbeat in her throat. For the last time, he'll feel her life force burning inside of her, a flame that refuses to go out.
James lifts his head and Vada groans softly. He's not going to be able to hold back anymore. She feels so good, so fucking wet and warm for him.
This is the last time he's going to be this gentle with her.
Her body writhes against his and she whimpers in his ear. James laps up the drying blood on her neck.
"Fuck, I'm gonna come," he groans. "Keep fucking me just like that, malyshka."
Her face is bright red and he can see her eyes going bloodshot from a lack of oxygen as he squeezes her throat tighter.
The knot in his stomach tightens, and his entire body feels like it's being devoured by fire. He feels Vada come again and she lets out a soft, strangled and throaty cry. The sound causes an explosion deep within his belly. The tingling sensation travels all the way down his spine and to the tips of his toes. Finally, their bodies slow and he removes his hand from her throat, allowing her to take a deep and gasping breath.
He pulls her close and strokes her hair.
"I love you," he whispers.
She smiles and pulls back.
"I love you."
The words sound so sweet coming from her lips.
"Say it again," James whispers.
She giggles.
"I love you."
"Again."
"I love you."
He kisses her softly.
"One more time?"
She cups his face in her hands and rubs her nose against his.
"I love you, James Barnes."
"I love you, Vada Bradley." He pauses. "You wanna watch a movie? I'll make you some tea. You still feeling sick?"
"A bit, yeah," she replies. "But it's not as bad as I felt early this morning."
"Good," James murmurs.
The blood should get her through the night, but the crash tomorrow is going to be bad. She'll die tomorrow. Even though he knows she'll come back, he still feels a deep sense of sadness knowing that he'll watch the light leave those eyes and watch her take her last breath.
He pushes her hair out of her face and smiles softly. Vada's brows knit together.
"What's wrong?" She asks.
"Nothing."
She leans in and smirks.
"You're lying."
"I am not!"
Their bond is already strong. This is very, very good.
He drags his tongue across his bottom lip as she narrows her eyes.
"You are, I can see it in your face."
"What's wrong with my face?" James asks in a faux offended tone.
"Nothing, it's a gorgeous face," Vada laughs as she cups his face in her hands, kissing him. "Probably one of the best faces I've ever seen."
"Well, I'm glad you like it."
"I'm pretty fond of it," she giggles.
"Good. You'll be seeing a lot of it."
"That's the goal, right?"
"Generally, yeah, that's the goal in relationships," he chuckles.
She kisses the tip of his nose and he slides the chair out, picking her up. Her legs wrap around his waist and she giggles.
"You're strong."
"It's because I eat my vegetables."
She snorts and buries her head in his shoulder as James walks her to the counter and puts some water in the kettle before turning the burner on high to let it boil. He then carries Vada into the living room and sets her down on the couch. She stares up at him as he wraps a blanket around her shoulders and walks to the massive shelf of VHS tapes she owns. James bows dramatically as Vada giggles.
"Madam, is there anything in particular you would like to watch on this fine October evening?"
She chews on her thumb nail and her eyes sparkle.
"How about something spooky? Set the mood a little."
"Perfect." He turns around. "We've got The Exorcist— outstanding choice, by the way."
"Thank you," Vada laughs.
James drags his fingertip across the other movies. She has a lot of horror movies.
"Poltergeist, The Amityville Horror, Day of the Dead, the Reanimator, The Howling, Nightmare on Elm Street, Silver Bullet— obscure, but a good choice."
"I like to be obscure," Vada replies.
James winks at her and Vada hums.
"Let's do Nightmare on Elm Street."
He pumps his fist.
"Solid. Solid choice. I'm very proud of you. Although, there's nothing on that shelf that I don't like, so..."
She smiles as he plucks the tape from the shelf and slides it into the VCR. Just as he does, Vada pipes up.
"Water's about to boil."
James stops and smiles. Her senses are getting better, too. He can hear the water beginning to bubble just before the kettle starts to whistle. Still, he plays dumb and turns around.
"How do you know that?"
She stares at him and starts to laugh.
"I don't know, just a guess."
As if on cue, a sharp whistle echoes through the entire floor. James and Vada giggle and he rushes toward her to kiss her.
"I'll go get you a cup of tea. Chamomile?"
She smiles, her eyes warm and bright.
"With honey?"
"You got it, my love. I'll be right back."
He walks to the kitchen and makes her a cup of chamomile tea, rifling through the cupboards until he finds the honey. James squeezes some onto his finger and tastes it, his eyes rolling back. He doesn't need to consume human food, so often, he just doesn't. It's been decades since he's had honey, it was his favorite thing as a child, but it was expensive, and thus, a luxury.
He digs a spoon out of the drawer and squeezes so much onto it that it starts to overflow and he has to catch it with his tongue. James wraps his lips around it and groans.
"Fuck, that's good," he breathes.
"James? You're missing the beginning!" Vada calls from the other room.
"Be right there!"
He has three more spoonfuls before he realizes that he's nearly drained all of the honey in the bottle and swears under his breath. James squeezes out what's left of it into the bottom of the mug, plunks in a teabag, and then pours the boiling water overtop of everything. He gives it a stir with the spoon he just used and then tosses it in the sink before padding back to the living room.
Vada turns to him.
"Did you use half the jar of honey in that cup?" She asks as he hands it to her.
Good girl, he thinks to himself.
"What makes you think that?" He laughs.
"I can smell it—" she leans in closer. "It's on your breath, too."
He plunks down next to her and wraps his arm around her shoulder as Vada sips her tea and the movie starts. He kisses her temple.
"I had a couple of spoonfuls. I owe you a bottle."
She tilts her head upward to look at him.
"I guess you can start by giving me a kiss because I can smell it on your breath."
James giggles.
"I can do that," he breathes as he dips his head and his mouth eclipses hers.
Vada doesn't waste time deepening the kiss, her tongue diving into his mouth and swirling around his. She brings one hand up to cup his cheek, and drag her fingernails through his stubble. James feels claws, tiny, but razor sharp, slice through his cheek and he hisses, pulling back. Vada's eyes go wide. She covers her mouth.
"Oh my god!"
He laughs as her eyes land on the cut. James can see the hunger in her eyes, the fire that burns into him. She takes a deep breath and looks away, keeping her eyes focused on the screen. James reaches out and wraps his fingertips around the back of her neck.
"It's okay, sweets. I like it rough."
She sets the mug of tea down on the table, and stands up.
"I'll get you a bandaid." She sighs and looks down at her fingernails. They're short, her claws having retracted as her humanity tries desperately to overcome the virus that's consuming her body. "I just cut my fucking fingernails— I'm so sorry, James!"
The wound is going to heal over within half an hour anyway, but he'd take any chance he could if it meant she would touch him.
James laughs softly.
"It's okay, sugar. I'm pretty tough, you know."
She blushes, and James knows this is the last night where he'll see the color in her cheeks other than when she feeds. He thinks he's going to tell her tomorrow, after she dies. To her, it'll feel like falling asleep after being in a hell of a lot of pain. The first thing she'll need when she wakes is blood. James will have to go and get it tonight once she falls asleep.
"I'll be right back," she whispers.
James watches the steam rise out of her cup as the movie plays in the background. Vada quickly reappears in front of him holding a bandaid, a bottle of iodine, and a small cotton ball.
"I apologize in advance. It's pink and it's got butterflies on it. It's all I had left."
"You make it a point to have pink bandaids with butterflies on them?" He laughs.
"There was a little girl a couple of months ago who cut her finger and Sam went out and bought her some brightly coloured bandaids to make her feel better."
James chuckles.
"That's really sweet."
Vada blushes again, and sits down next to him. James turns toward her and she places the bandaid on her knee while she unscrews the iodine and soaks the cotton ball in it.
"Hold still," she whispers as she gently dabs it on his skin.
It's supposed to hurt, but James doesn't even flinch. He feels pain to a certain extent, but it's somewhat deadened.
Vada smiles.
"Such a tough guy," she whispers. "Most people flinch."
"I'm screaming at you on the inside," James breathes.
She chuckles and kisses him softly before she grabs the bandaid and opens it, sticking it onto his face.
"There you go. Now you're pretty," she replies.
He scoffs and grasps her wrists, bringing her knuckles to his lips.
"I was always pretty."
Vada chuckles.
"You're gorgeous, actually. Stunning."
"Now, don't go complimenting me too much, sugar." She giggles and he kisses her forehead. Her skin is starting to get cold. James grabs the blanket and wraps it around her shoulders, and then grabs her her cup of tea. "Thanks for patching me up, but I think it's my turn to take care of you."
Even if he's the one who caused her to be in this predicament in the first place.
Vada leans up against them as they watch the rest of the movie. Halfway through, she falls asleep on his shoulder and her empty mug of tea nearly threatens to tumble to the floor before he catches it effortlessly and places it back onto the coffee table. James leans over.
"You're going to sleep all the way through the night tonight, my love. I have to take care of you."
He reaches out to feel her pulse. It's slowed to a crawl, and nearly disappeared. She groans in her sleep and James knows that their bond means that she will listen to him. He's her sire, she has to. She's also at her weakest at this point in the transformation.
Once the movie finishes, he carries her to bed and tucks her in, kissing her on the forehead.
"I'll be back," he breathes.
James gently closes the bedroom door and walks back to the living room to wash Vada's teacup. He plucks a tea towel from the drawer and begins to dry it out. As he's twisting the mug, he hears a knock at the door and glances over his shoulder. Steve is floating outside of the window with a big smile on his face. He presses his palms against the glass and then smushes his face up against it, and then exhales, the action forcing his cheeks to puff out like a chipmunk as he begins to lick the window. James grimaces and laughs, walking toward the window and smacking it. Steve flinches and pulls back as James opens the window.
"You know birds have shit against this window, right?"
Steve blinks.
"Shit, for real?" He asks.
"Yeah. Thank god you can't get diseases, huh? You'd catch bird tongue if you were human."
Steve bites his lip and his brows knit together as he leans forward.
"Is that... is that a real thing?"
James cackles and smacks Steve in the forehead.
"No, I'm just trying to get you to stop licking windows, you fuckin' idiot."
"You scared me for a second!"
"I just said you couldn't get diseases!" James laughs.
"I know, but still..." Steve pushes a hand through his hair. "How's she doing?"
"She's in bed. I need to hunt for her. I'll need blood for tomorrow."
"Did you put her under?"
"Yeah," James whispers. "We're bonded now. She went under right away."
"Nice," Steve whispers, raising his hand. "High five me."
James grins and their palms smack together, both of them chuckling softly.
"You wanna hunt?" Steve asks.
"Yeah," James replies as he hops up onto the windowsill, much to Steve's delight. He claps his hands as he floats backward.
"Yeah! Look at you, embracing your nature!"
James leaps off of the windowsill as Steve floats backward. He turns to shut the windows. It's late, and nearly everyone is asleep. Greybrooke is quiet and contemplative this late at night. James loves it. The sun exhausts him, but the moonlight feels like a dose of euphoria delivered directly to his bloodstream. Feeding only helps fuel that joy, and being with Vada multiplies that.
He loves her, and he would do anything for her. The second he laid eyes on her, he knew that she was his soulmate; that they were destined to be together. She reminded him of fragments of lovers he's had over the years, and finally, James found them pieced together in the form of Vada— a beautiful, intelligent, and compassionate.
James and Steve soar through the inky black sky, the urge to kill pumping through their veins.
⚰️ ⚰️ ⚰️
"Vada."
Her eyelids flutter open and she sits up. The first thing she notices is that she's drenched in an ice cold sweat. The second thing she notices is that the room is pitch black, and her curtains are drawn. She glances down next to her, finding the bed empty, and her heart hammering so hard she feels like it might break her ribs.
"Vada."
The voice is low and hoarse, almost like it's being strangled. Her eyes snap up and the third thing she notices is the bedroom door whining, making an almost human sound as it slowly swings open. A much darker shadow slips out of the room like smoke and she hears it again.
"Vada."
She has no idea if she's having a dream or not. When she looks down at her hand, it's blurry and nearly bone white. There are claws where her fingernails should be, long and almost elegant, but her vision is so blurry that she can barely see them. She blinks a few times and the edges of her vision begin to go dark. When she tries to take a deep breath, she can't get enough air. Her head is pulsing, along with every nerve in the rest of her body. She's in more pain than she's ever been in her life and lets her head hang.
"Fuck."
"Vadaaaaaa," the voice begins to sing.
Her head snaps upward and she feels a pull in her chest, and a deep compulsion to follow the voice. Despite the pain in her body, she throws the blanket off her and placing her feet on the floor. They're numb, kind of like she had sat on them wrong and cut off circulation. Vada lifts her leg and tries to massage her feet, but hears something drop onto the ground. She blinks and suddenly, her vision becomes crystal clear.
She sees the same salt on the bottoms of her feet that she found on James's.
Her heart pounds faster and she thinks she's going to have a heart attack. Sweat suddenly begins to pour down her face as she pushes herself off of the bed. The effort is nearly too much and she almost collapses.
"Vada, get up."
She turns her head and sees a dark shadowy figure standing in the doorway.
"I'm waiting."
She stands upright and takes a staggered step forward. The second her foot touches the ground, her legs feel like someone has stuck a blade into the back of her hamstring and dragged it all the way up, causing the muscles to scream. She has to grab the nightstand to keep her knees from giving out as she lets out a sob.
Vada turns and looks over her shoulder and watches as the door violently slams shut. She feels her stomach drop to her feet, a chill running down her spine as sweat continues to drip off of her body and onto the floor. She takes as deep a breath as she can, and then takes another step forward.
There's a footprint left behind. White crystals that seem to glitter like diamonds despite the fact that the room is fully wrapped in darkness.
Slowly, Vada staggers toward the door. Called to it, and unable to ignore it. She doesn't know why.
It feels like it takes her an eternity to make it to the door before she wraps her fingers around the handle. She leaves the same white residue on the handle while her body is in full panic mode. She's sure she's dying or having a panic attack, but her body doesn't care which it is. It just wants to give up.
But she won't let it.
She opens the door, and the whine from the hinges echoes through her like the most terrifying and desperate song she's ever heard. Tears sting her eyes as she looks up to find the sconces on the walls lit. She's never replaced the shitty bulbs in them because she could never find them in the hardware store.
But the sconces are secondary compared to what she's seeing at the end of the hallway.
Jason. Except it's not really Jason. It's Jason covered in blood, half of his face missing with glass shards sticking out of it. He has one milky white eye while the other is hanging from the eye socket by the optic nerve.
There's a gash in his throat and stomach, and his right arm is barely hanging on by the muscle and tendons. His left is broken and twisted, like a mangled tree root. There are bits of shimmering white bone sticking out from the blackened wound.
His white shirt is red, and his jeans are slashed up, more black blood leaking through them.
He looks grotesque, like something out of a horror movie.
But it's him. She can smell the cologne he wore the night of the crash, and the liquor on his breath. They were drinking Southern Comfort that night, nearly three bottles. It went down so easy, and then they started fighting on the drive.
Tears are streaming down her face and she has to press her hand into the wall to steady herself. Jason smiles, his teeth are shattered window panes.
"Hi, Vada."
"Jason," she rasps. "What are you..."
He takes a step toward her and she watches his tibia pierce the denim, creating a new hole. Jason doesn't seem to feel the pain and he keeps walking, each step more broken and staggered than the last. He begins to drag a broken left foot behind him, blood trailing along her hardwood floor.
All she can do is stand there, jaw dropped.
"How did you find me?"
He doesn't answer until he's right in front of her, letting his mangled arm and brushing his fingertips against her cheek. She feels something sticky on her skin, almost like tar. Vada swallows and Jason appears to examine her with his dead white eye.
"I'm always here, Vada. You're in danger."
"What do you mean, danger?"
"You're dying."
Her breath hitches and she begins to cough, covering her mouth. She sees blood when she pulls her hand away and can't resist the urge to lap at it. A soft and sickly wheeze spills from Jasons's lips and her eyes glide up to meet his.
"You're changing, Vada."
"I'm sick."
Another wheeze.
"He's going to kill you, Vada."
"Who?"
Jason leans forward, his cracked and decaying mouth touching her ear. Her blood runs cold.
"The Devil," he whispers. "You've let him into your house."
"James," she breathes.
Jason pulls back and Vada's throat clenches.
"You're not real."
His broken and gnarled fingers wrap around her wrist and she feels a deep burning sensation shooting through her bones. Vada screams and Jason squeezes harder.
"Does that feel real?" He snarls, his smashed out window teeth with razor sharp edges. She smells death on his breath, mingling with the Southern Comfort. A broken snarl spills from his lips. "Tell me, Vada, does that feel fucking real?"
"Let me go!"
"As real as the night you killed me?!"
"STOP!"
She sobs and tries to lurch backward, but her own shaky legs betray her and she tumbles to the ground, pulling Jason on top of her. He straddles her and manages to pin both of her wrists above her head with one hand. A stream of thick black blood dangles from his lips like a string. She screams and turns her head, but the muscles in her neck and body are frozen as she's forced to look upon the face of the man she once loved that now looks like a butcher hacked it up with a knife.
"That's what you did, isn't it, Vada? Killed me? That's why you stopped drinking, it's why you go to those meetings." He leans forward. "God won't save you, neither while your Twelve Steps, or your sponsor. I came here to warn you."
She swallows hard.
"Warn me?"
"Kill yourself. Before you kill others. You'll make more like you. He'll want you to make more like you."
She tries to thrash against him, but she can't do it. Her body won't let her. All she can move are her toes.
"Fuck you!" She spits. "You're not Jason!"
"You're right," he rumbles. "You killed Jason that night, and you've spent years running from it. Take the warning or don't, Vada, but he's going to destroy you."
"This is a FUCKING DREAM!" She roars, her body feeling a sudden surge of strength as she pushes Jason off of her. He goes flying through the air like a football and slides along the floor, his flesh and bone squeaking and scraping the hardwood as Vada rolls onto her stomach and pushes herself up to standing. She staggers on her feet as she turns and finds Jason lying in a crumpled heap, his body twisted just like it was that night.
And that dead, white eye staring at her.
It's accusing, yet empty.
All of the guilt that she's carried for the past five and a half years bubbles over like an angry, boiling pot. She can't stop it. She used to be so good at controlling her temper, but this is so much different.
Vada lets out a scream, the kind of scream she's been holding in for far too long. It has claws that tear and burn her throat as tears rush down her face, and the more she screams the more she feels like she's going to explode. Her fingernails dig into the hardwood and she screams until her vision goes black and her body collapses.