**A/N: *tap tap tap* Hey, is this thing on? *squEEEEErrrr* Oh, yeah, I guess it is. Ok, so, in hopes that no one will throw rotten fruit at me for how long it’s been since I updated this last (you DO remember the part of my profile where I state that updates can be sporadic, right? RIGHT? Well, I wasn’t foolin’…), I’ve left this chapter extra-long instead of spitting it up and flinging a cliffie at’cha. (I totally blame Godric for how long this one took to write – he REALLY didn’t want to let go of his Cara…)**
As he flew towards one of the safe houses, Godric slowed his speed down even more the instant he felt his Cara drift off to sleep in his arms. High enough up that most citizens wouldn’t notice them but still well within the human comfort zone, Godric flew in long, serpentine paths, content to drift with the breezes as long as he could.
So long as he had her in his grasp, she was safe.
And she even had her oddly-stuffed pillow, too, he thought with a smile. He then vaguely wondered how he would feed from someone else while keeping hold of her in his arms thusly, and promptly negated the consideration. There were always bags of blood available from his dear Son.
He gazed lovingly down at his Cara, then looked outward and sighed as he beheld the heavenly sights before him.
Godric loved flying and took great joy in shooting straight up higher into the night sky than a human could tolerate, and equally loved “plunging” just as rapidly back toward Earth only to halt his descent at the last possible second. Whooshing and diving and gliding to and fro…he loved everything about flying.
More times than he bothered to count he had enjoyed the freedom of performing such literal flights of fancy in the nude, and smirked. Invariably he would later hear of UFOs being sighted in the area as his pale skin would glow alarmingly in the moonlight.
He guessed those nights were over now…unless his Cara would agree to tandem nude flying? He would have to think it over. It wasn’t as if he would drop her or anything, even during a flying coupling – all he would have to do would be to let her ride him as he flew with his back toward the ground, his hands clasping her hips firmly as they swayed back and forth, up and down…
His cock firmly approved of that plan.
Finally becoming concerned about her catching a chill in the cool night air, he sped toward the intended house, referred to by its code name “The Third House” solely for security reasons. He hovered high above the rooftop for a long minute to ensure that the area was safe. Once satisfied that he hadn’t been followed and that none of the ‘nearby’ neighbors in the quaint community between Shreveport and Minden were mucking about at this late hour, he rapidly descended until he was a scant inch from the concrete of the empty carport before levitating himself and his beloved toward the plain door.
After tapping a particular brick with his right foot, a retina scanner unfolded from behind another brick, and once it recognized him, the door unlocked with a barely audible click. He made a mental note to have Cara added to the house’s security system as he held her to him with one strong arm and quickly opened the door with his other hand.
Once inside the house with the door once again secured, he didn’t bother turning on any lights as he quickly blurred to the hidden door leading to the actual “living area for the undead” beneath the house. He opted to float down the stairs rather than risk waking the sweetly sleeping woman in his arms, and strongly debated between placing her in his own reserved quarters, or in the house’s only unclaimed bedroom.
He, Eric, and Pamela all had their own bedrooms in what was considered an emergency accommodation; however, no one could get his grandChild to understand that “emergency” did not necessitate “sprucing up the place every fall and every spring” – even the downstairs kitchen. As he gazed down at the beauty in his arms, he began to appreciate such obsessive homemaking schemes a bit more. At least his Cara would be comfortable in the underground fortress. Pamela also made a point to keep the house’s two kitchens well stocked with non-perishables just in case they had to “bring their food with them”.
Regardless of what he had said to Eric before, those, in fact, had been the deciding factors causing him to bring her here rather than simply taking off into the blue with her once she was in his grasp.
Godric refused to consider Dallas. Not Dallas. Dallas was a bad place. No, no, no, not Dallas… He leaned his head down and inhaled deeply of Cara’s sweet, sweet scent, in and out, in and out, until finally Dallas receded from his mind.
With far more rational thoughts once again in place, he considered that his previously-secure location in the Cascades had been abandoned after the third time he’d demolished it; he wasn’t exactly welcome in Vermont or Tennessee any longer even though he was certain Eric had been guilted into paying for those little mishaps. The healthiness of the Mold House was in question, and he deemed none of his other American properties quite worthy of her no matter how attractive or well-finished they might be.
He was also fairly certain that Cara would not wish to wake up in another country, at least, not yet. He should ask her about that when he mentioned fucking while flying.
The living quarters at TSO just wouldn’t do, either. There were too many people…it would be too irritating to his senses to even try to guard her amongst all those scents and all the noise brought by all the little people milling about, scurrying around like rats… He could see himself going on an ill-advised killing spree just to make them all shut the fuck up.
Eventually he listened to that beloathed inner voice that always urged him to “use his powers for good” and placed Cara on the bed in the unclaimed bedroom. He did grant himself permission to release her from the confines of her shoes and pants before tucking her under the covers of the bed. After removing her medicines from the casing of her pillow and placing them along with her purse on her bedside table, he upended the stuffed case on the nearby dresser, and placed the item he now recognized as a pillow into her arms.
Next he went in search of a pen and paper to leave her a note only to decide once he found them to wait for the rest of Eric’s news before writing anything. Soon enough he felt Pamela approaching, and after she had emptied her vehicle of Cara’s contents, he offered to help.
Ignoring the look she gave him before she put all the cold items into the empty refrigerator at vamp speed, he asked, “Have you heard from your Maker?”
“No, but I can tell he’s pissed. I hope that cousin doesn’t still exist.” She snarled at the foul creature’s relationship status, then upended a box containing various and assorted things from Cara’s kitchen cabinet drawers onto the countertop. She would let Cara deal with them tomorrow – it wasn’t as if she would know what to grab or where to put the human paraphernalia!
“I would think not,” he replied, his voice guttural, his tone clipped. His fangs erupted with a snap. The color of his eyes suddenly deepened to the murky gray that warned of trouble.
“Asshole motherfucker thinking he can sell my Cara – the man’s supposedly own cousin? Vile, filthy beasts thinking they can buy and sell my Cara? Who the fuck do they think they are? Can’t they see how special she is? Buying and selling people is wrong anyway,” he thought as he began pacing at vamp speed. “Of course it was common practice when I was a young human, and even during three-quarters of my first century as a vampire it wasn’t at all uncommon, but this is my Cara…my Cara…” His pace increased. “They should die…they should all die – they must die! I am Death, I can kill them and they will not touch my Cara! If Eric has not ended the one who claims to be her relative then I will end him – I will smear the marrow of his bones across my body and paint the walls with his blood! And the ones who sought to buy my Cara – their shrieks and wails will be heard for miles and weeks and I will gouge their eyes and rip their throats and I will slowly peel their fetid flesh from their cowardly bones until…”
Pamela’s eyes widened as she saw Godric slipping into one of his ‘phases‘, and she immediately called Eric as loudly as she could, and feared her Maker would not arrive in time.
Just as she was beginning to be glad that Cara was asleep in her own bedroom…the hallway flooded with light as a switch was flipped,
Her sleepy voice immediately grabbed Godric’s attention. In the blink of an eye he tensed, his fangs descended even farther, and he blurred to where she stood framed in the soft overhead light.
Cara suddenly found herself being held tightly but painlessly against the back of the long hallway she had just ambled down with a snarling, weaving, crouching Godric in front of her. At first he was moving so quickly that he was all she could see.
Well, his back at any rate.
She glanced around him to see what the threat was – surely there was a threat for him to be acting like that, but… the only person she saw was Pam.
She put her hand on his shoulder and he angrily shook it off, determined to be free to protect her from any who came. She would have been insulted if she’d had the time to think about it, but realized that he was protecting her with his person for some reason.
Pam started to walk slowly and somewhat sideways toward them, and the growl he emitted shook the walls. Wisely she stopped and knelt before him, still half the hall’s length away, but the terrified expression on her face scared Cara.
She crossed her arms, and said rather firmly given the situation, “Godric, don’t snarl at your grandChild. I don’t know what’s going on but she’s on our side, you know.”
Then she sneezed. Sneezing was what had woken her up in the first place, and after using the bathroom and taking a dose of her medicines using her hand to cup the water so she could drink, she had gone in search of either Godric or a cup, preferably both.
And now this… Could this night get any weirder?
The look on Pam’s face told her that the situation was serious, but somehow she knew that Godric would never hurt her – hell, he was protecting her with his body for goodness sakes!
“Pam, it’s ok. If Godric were going to hurt me, he’d have done it already, so, please, just go back to the living room or kitchen if that’s where you were. Can you maybe find me a glass and get me a drink of water ready? My throat is parched.” She was proud of her semi-steady voice even if her hand was shaking like a leaf as she “shooed” Pam away from behind Godric’s back as he kept weaving in front of her. He was still snarling, but at least it was at a lower volume.
“Godric, honey, do me a favor and let Pam get up so she can leave?”
A very long minute ticked by before Godric grunted what passed for permission. He never once ceased weaving and crouching.
The instant Pam was gone from sight, Godric turned around and brusquely ran his hands all over Cara from the top of her head, across her back, and backside, down her legs, to the tops of her bare feet. He even ran his hands as far up under the material of her pants as far as he could. When he finally stood straight before her, she got a good look at the expression on his face, and cried a bit inside for him.
The mixture of terror, worry, anger, and pure violence broke her heart.
Going with her instincts since that seemed to be what was driving him, she whispered his name as she threw her arms around his neck and pulled herself to his chest. The snarling immediately turned to low growls more vibration than noise as he closed his arms around her, and stilled.
“Shhh…shhh….I’m ok…shhh, it’s ok, it’s going to be alright,” she quietly chanted as she hugged him as tightly as she could while very gently swaying side to side. She felt as though there was a wounded animal inside him needing the shelter and comfort of her arms, and she was going to damn well do whatever it took to…to make it all be ok.
Eventually some of the tension in his hard body started to relax, and the growls finally stopped.
He leaned back from her far enough to look down into her worried brown eyes.
“You do not fear that I would harm you?” His voice was gruff, and shock and disbelief warred on his features.
“Nope.” Her voice was soft yet her assurance came through loud and clear with that one negation. Her hands still trembled in reaction, but she raised one hand to cup his cheek.
He apparently heard Pam doing something in another room because he suddenly tensed and emitted another resounding growl, but Cara, now developing another headache from all the loud, tense drama, shushed him quietly.
“Godric, please hush with the growling, honey. That’s just Pam,” she stated with reassuring certainty.
She then took his hand and tugged for him to sit down with her. Once ensconced on his lap, his arms forming a cage around her tired body and his nose buried in her hair, she leaned back against his chest and breathed a sigh of relief.
Odd, even when he’s having some sort of melt-down I still feel safer in his arms and on his lap than anywhere else.
“Can Pam bring my water yet, or is it still too soon?” The last thing she wanted was to provoke another attack of whatever this was, but she was also really thirsty.
With obvious effort Godric tried to shake off the problem, then, his body once again stiffening, he clenched his jaw and barely nodded. Sensing just how much this was costing him, Cara compromised – anything to help him come back to where he should be.
“Ok, how about this – I’ll ask Pam to leave the water just inside the hall, then after she leaves, can you go and get it for me?”
Godric raised grateful eyes to his Cara. As much as he knew this…this thing that happened to him must be scaring her, perhaps even terrifying her, she was trying so hard to work with him. Shame for the way he couldn’t help but act ran riot through his brain, and helped clear some of the burning fog. There was danger…the soon-dead were after her…
“Pam, honey,” she began, holding Godric’s gaze the entire time, “can you bring a glass of water or a bottle and place it a couple of feet into the hall, then go on back to wherever you are?”
Pam clearly stated, “Yes,” then promptly appeared at the head of the hallway, and shock flooded her face when she saw them sitting together on the floor at the other end. She quickly set the water down, and vacated the area. A moment later, though, both clearly heard her state softly that she felt Eric approaching.
Godric said, “Eric?”
Cara nodded and placed a hand on his chest in hopes that the contact would be soothing to him. “I’d say Pam was scared for me and you both, and called him. He’s kind of her daddy, so it makes sense.” She saw the worry on his face and added with a grin she didn’t yet feel, “Don’t worry, he’s cool. A little odd, but he’s nice enough for a big blond Thor look-alike.”
His lips attempting a smile that he also didn’t feel, Godric simply nodded. Of course he knew who Eric was…he was the blond Viking man he had Turned a couple of years ago…no, that wasn’t right. It was longer ago than that, wasn’t it? But…never mind, he knew who Eric was if not the when.
He needed to collect his mate some water.
Water that sat in the hallway, where it was safe now that the other one was gone.
The other one cared for his Cara, had worried on her behalf, so she wasn’t the enemy?
She could live for now.
He tensed to move as quickly as possible, then gently removed Cara from his lap. Not completely trusting the situation, he held his fingers to his lips to ensure her silence, then before she could blink twice he was back with the bottle of water and she was once again sitting on his lap, although facing him more this time.
He had recognized the other one’s scent before, of course, and knew her to somehow be from his Eric, but the safety in that connection had eluded him.
Now he remembered. That other one was the Child of his own Child, and therefore presumed to be trustworthy.
And his Child Eric was en route?
That was good. Reinforcements were good.
Those who would harm his Cara needed to die.
They needed to die!
He needed to…
“Hey, hey, look at me. No, honey, look at me,” Cara urged softly, intently, when she saw his eyes beginning to change color again. That strange murky color was scary, but she held his gaze.
He felt her small hands on each side of his face, and worked very hard to sheathe his fangs.
This was Cara.
She was his.
“Breathe,” she instructed, begged. “Breathe in and out, my love, in and out…just…breathe.” She suited action to words and breathed slowly, and he automatically timed his own unnecessary breaths with hers, and allowed her scent to enter his body. He could feel his muscles relaxing, his blood cooling yet, oddly, warming from within, as her scent and her eyes and the slight weight of her body on his brought him back to center.
Cara massaged his temples with her thumbs and tried to relax her own body as she calmed him down. Finally, with a longer exhale, he seemed to come back to himself.
She opened her bottle of water and drained half of it in a series of gulps, then decided to take this bull by the horns. She placed the bottle on the floor, then raised her hands to his chest.
“Now, what’s wrong,” she asked.
“Ah, it’s nothing,” he began evasively, worriedly, his voice still slightly raspy. “I shall be well again by tomorrow’s night.”
Her warm brown eyes continued gazing into his own as if she had the power to glamour him into confessing all. “And,” she asked as she began threading her fingers through the hair on his forehead, smoothing it back, soothing his nerves.
What do I tell her, he demanded of himself. I don’t want to lie to her, but if I tell her the truth, that I truly don’t know, she will naturally become fearful and leave…She can’t leave…
Somehow he found the ability to stop himself from falling into the chasm.
“Honey,” her voice suddenly brought him out of his mental meanderings. “If something were wrong with me, if I were sick or had a problem, would you want to know about it?”
“Yes,” he answered forcefully. “Of course I would want to know! How could I help if I didn’t know?”
“Then don’t I deserve the same from you?”
She once again wound her arms about his shoulders, and buried her face into the curve of his neck. “Come on, Godric, talk to me. Tell me what’s going on. If I can help, I surely will, and even if I can’t, I’ll still hold you and talk to you and whatever else it takes. Talk to me.”
And so, with no further recourse, Godric began explaining what little he knew of the situation to his Cara, who did not run.
**A/N: So…what did you think?**