James From Unspeakable Novels & Stories

— Points anguished for wanting to understand what is happening, he sees her doubting. I can't understand either, but weapons could do it, you ... sorry, ¿but have we talked about ants? I can't record; I don't want you to take it wrong... When I'm lost I don't record many things, but you called me by name, you are the first person I speak to since my wolf took my body ... — No, don't worry I can understand you, we have only spoken when you are less rational, I'm Madeleine — she said seeking not to be rude, I do not admit that his failure to recognize him causes a sorrow in his heart. —

I’m afraid that saying them out loud would break the only connection we have left. ​I guess this is what they call it. This is the quiet, heavy reality of UNSPOKEN LOVE.

But that didn't seem to be an option. "Isabella," James's voice spoke from beside me, "nice to see you alive." I turned to look at him, "If this is your version of conversation, please, go make it with someone else." I rolled my eyes. Something about James made my blood boil, he was just naturally annoying for some reason. I heard Adam snort, coughing to cover it up. James's eyes snapped to Adam, "What so funny old man?" he shoved Adam's shoulder, nearly knocking him out of his chair. I shot out of mine, "Hey! Knock it off, prick!'

The full unguarded version of what it did to him. “Come home,” she said. James was on the pavement having come out before them, standing with his hands in his pockets and the expression of a man who had just watched the formal conclusion of a story his father had begun trusting in a corridor in 1992. “He named Helena Calloway and James Obi first,” James said. “In that order. Before anyone else.”

His intense stare softened, and he looked away. "I'll drive you to Hana's. We've already arranged Mr. Hart's funeral," Darcus replied carefully. The mention of the funeral threatened to bring a fresh wave of tears, but I managed to hold them back. "How are you feeling, Ella?" James's voice rang out, causing me to turn and face him. His expression was one of concern. "I'm managing, James,"I asked, trying to steer the conversation away from myself. "Ella, there's something I need to tell you," James said. I tilted my head, encouraging him to continue. "I am not human."

The bed shook as he rolled over on the mattress to grab his phone from the table. “It’s James.” James is a warlock from my coven. During Lillian’s reign he had protested her rule and her way of doing things, he even called her out on a few of her lies. As a consequence, he had to flee to the states because there had been too many attempts on his life. Now he was under our employ, as the Chief Executive Officer of our foundation.

He completely ignores the man named James who is in a bad shape now. "Master! That man killed all other vampires! He is a monster!" says James. The man is confused. He is irritated with James's nonsense since he isn't completing his sentences. It's making him restless. "I won't ask you next time! Say something properly when you start a conversation with me. " the man replies in an angry voice.

They can make anything look like an accident. "Do you have any idea what they did to him?" I ask. James sighs heavily on the other end. "I'm not sure if you really want to know," he says, his tone somber. "From what I heard, they did some... unspeakable things. It's better not to go into details." I swallow hard, the pit in my stomach deepening. The silence between us is heavy, filled with the weight of everything unsaid. "Yeah," I finally say, my voice barely above a whisper. "Maybe it's best, I don't know."

Sareena, aka Christina I’m packing up my station at the hospital after an unbearably traumatic day when Dr. James bumps into me from behind. “Ah - bloody hell, sorry about that,” he says, stepping in front of me. “What a grim day, eh?” He’s referring to the triple murder-suicide we just dealt with. “Yeah,” I murmur, shaking my head. “I just wish someone had helped him with his mental health before it came to this.”