**A/N: In this chapter I’m trying something I’ve never done before but that I’ve always wanted to try writing – I just hope that it’s not been over-done and that I can get it right. I also want to thank every one of you for your amazing support. I can proudly say that I have fantastic readers!**
Godric frantically sent his blood into Cara’s mouth. She wasn’t moving, but he could still detect the faint, weak throb of her precious heart and the scant amount of air entering her lungs.
His beast crowed at the sounds, and warred within him as he gently massaged her throat, his eyes begging her to swallow the healing power of his blood gathering in her mouth.
He had to save her life some way, any way, but it wasn’t time to Turn her, not yet, not if he could somehow retain her humanity.
But she will be with us…
No! She doesn’t want this – it’s too soon! She must live!
But she will live! Let her humanity die so that she will be stronger, safer, more resilient! GIVE HER IMMORTALITY!
It was so hard to fight the furiously gleeful beast within, but he knew he somehow he had to fight, to silence that monster if he wanted his Cara to have the choice of whether to Turn, and when. She deserved that much.
His beast was not happy, and snarled his outrage.
Don’t allow her to choose – it is too risky! You must seize this chance and Turn her now!
I cannot! She is meant to live and breathe and dream and…
TURN HER NOW!! LET HER BE ETERNAL! LET HER BE WITH US FOREVER!
NO! She will chose when she is ready.
He refused to consider that she might choose otherwise, or that the very act of saving of her might remove that choice altogether. He only knew that he could not, would not, willingly force this on her now.
She deserved better from him.
Think, he commanded himself…there was a way to possibly…maybe…
He quickly raised the sheet over her prone, naked body as he willed more blood between her unresponsive lips and massaged it down her throat.
Eric felt his Maker’s call, the one he could not disobey even if he had wanted to.
In an instant he was before his Maker’s door, and an instant thereafter there was no door.
He stood by Godric’s side and surveyed the damage.
It didn’t look good.
Cara was limp on the bed, her skin far too white, her body far too still, the pillow beneath her head bearing vivid evidence of his Maker’s fanged assault.
Godric knelt over her, his bleeding wrist between her immobile lips, his other hand working to encourage his ancient blood down her throat.
“Feed her twice after I remove my wrist,” Godric commanded, never taking his eyes from his Cara. The controlled terror in his voice and the feverish desperation in his eyes sent shivers down Eric’s spine.
Eric immediately complied with his Maker’s order and moved to the other side of the bed. He positioned himself to easily take over once Godric’s wound healed, and without pause ripped deeply into his wrist when he felt his Maker’s prompt.
Once his blood was trickling into Cara’s mouth, he sent a query through their bond. Giving a human his blood was not a command he would ever have expected to receive from Godric, a vampire who strongly felt that the Blood was sacred.
Plus, Cara was his Maker’s chosen – why would the ancient vampire want his beloved Cara to take another vampire’s blood, even from his own Child?
“If I give her only my blood, without question I will Turn her. While that is my greatest wish, she is not yet ready. In her condition, if the blood of two or more vampires enters her body at about the same time, the risk is somewhat less. I would give her that chance.”
Happy to comply with his Maker’s wishes anyway, Eric nodded and ‘encouraged’ more of his life force to flow into the still girl’s mouth and, as Godric continually massaged the blood down her throat, made a Maker’s decision of his own.
He called Pam.
To Eric’s pride, the blonde vampire arrived almost as quickly as he had.
“I will give her another round of my blood, but when I lift my wrist the second time, replace it with your own.”
Pam felt Eric’s nudge asking her if she was ok with his request as he had not made it an order, but she did not hesitate.
“Yes,” she responded simply while sending him a burst of acceptance. She loved her grandMaker, but more than that, she loved her Maker. She would never wish upon Eric the loss of Godric that would surely result if the unspeakable happened to this Cara…who she also didn’t mind having around.
Throughout the switch and during Pam’s turn, both she and Eric continued sending hope and reassurance to the being they loved and rightly feared would return to Death if…
Finally, after two full feedings from Pam, with head and shoulders sagging in defeat, Godric knew they could do no more. It was up to time, Fate, the Universe…but it was out of his cruel, heartless hands.
“Now we wait,” he said, his voice a desolate echo of itself.
He needed to be alone with his love and with his sin. His was the burden of watching as the results of his actions came to pass.
Was this a life watch, or a death watch?
And if it was to be a death watch, what kind of death would he find?
He didn’t know.
Without a word but while bathing him in their love, Eric and Pam left him to tend to his pale, motionless Cara.
“And now we wait,” Eric quietly repeated to Pam as by unspoken decision both returned to his quarters. Pam went into his bathroom and wet two face cloths with warm water. The sun had risen during the crisis, and while no one mentioned anything, its effect still drew blood from ears, nose, and eyes.
After both had removed the evidence of the sun’s power, Pam curled up on the side of her Maker’s bed, and worried about what was to come. Eric, sensing her need for comfort and being disinclined to ignore his own, slid into the bed behind his progeny and curled protectively behind her. As he slid an arm about her waist, he heard her softly repeat before dying for the day, “And now we wait.”
Cara woke suddenly. It was early afternoon, and her stomach rumbled, her bladder wanted her attention, and it felt as though she had a 50 pound log over her waist.
Surprised because to her waking up was a process and not an instantaneous event, she stretched and noted with further wonder that she felt amazing! Nothing was stiff or felt sore, nothing ached – huh, apparently her cold had finally ran its course. She took a deep breath and her stomach growled aggressively – something smelled incredible but she couldn’t tell what it was…she just knew it made her mouth water.
Waking up on her back gave her pause, though, as she vastly preferred to sleep on her side, and she was never hungry when she woke up – several hours would normally have to pass before she would even consider food.
She shifted in preparation for rising from the bed and when she looked to her side, she discovered that there was a cool, hard body attached to the heavy limb across her waist.
From the dim light of the nightlight shining through the bathroom door left ajar, she could see that Godric was on his side curled protectively toward her, his face so close to hers that if he had breathed, his puffs would have tickled her ear. She turned to face him more fully, and frowned when she saw the tracks of dried blood trailing down from his ears, eyes, and nose.
What were those about?
He also looked as though he had been deeply unhappy when he had gone to his dayrest.
She thought for a minute, then scowled. The previous evening was very muddled, the brief imagines flitting through her mind making little sense and causing more confusion than answers.
With a shrug she ceased her musing and rose with an unexpectedly fluid grace to go to the bathroom… and wondered why she was naked.
When she spotted her clothing in tattered pieces scattered around the room, she seriously wondered just what kind of night she’d had.
Once she’d satisfied the needs of her bladder, she went to the sink and noticed a pile of damp, wadded up face cloths. She regarded them curiously for a moment, but not being in the habit of closely examining used washcloths, she just shrugged and washed her face and hands. A shower could wait until after she ate.
As she was drying her face and throat, she felt something dried on the back of her neck, and scratched at it briefly. She looked under her fingernail and wondered – it looked like dried blood?
Cara looked at herself in the mirror and gave herself a very confused expression about the mystery flecks…then stared.
Her complexion, always on the good side of normal, was now flawless. Her dark eyes and hair now stood out even more against the peachier peach and creamier cream of her face, and her lips were a rosier rose than ever before. Even her eyes seemed clearer and brighter.
Seriously, what the hell had gone on last night?
She glanced at the clock in the bathroom and huffed. It would be hours before Godric rose to answer the mounting questions. Might as well go stuff some food in her face during the meantime.
When she wet the clean face cloth with warm water then squeezed it almost dry, the motions seemed familiar to her, but she didn’t waste time trying to figure it all out. When she cleaned the dried trails of blood off Godric’s face and neck, again the actions seemed familiar, but by this point that nagging sense of déjà vu was more annoying than intriguing.
Food, she decided, would help with the annoyance if not the almost-remembering…and clothing would help with the “how did I end up naked” bit, too.
After securing the room and closing the bedroom door – somehow she knew that it would automatically lock itself behind her and she rolled her eyes at even more unexplained knowledge, she stepped into the darkened hall and ambled down the hallway to the door that separated the sleeping quarters from the rest of the house.
When she opened the door, the sunlight blinded her for a moment until her eyes became accustomed to the light. As she squeezed her eyes shut against the pain caused by going from a very dark room into bright sunlight, she huffed again.
All she wanted was food!
Finally her eyes adjusted, and she went to the kitchen she didn’t remember being in before. After a look around, she found the food that she remembered Pam bringing over to her apartment, and stood at the counter to inhale stale okra, beets, and carrot cake, and guzzled most of one container of cranberry juice.
Once satisfied that she wouldn’t immediately faint from hunger, she laughed at herself as she brewed a cup of coffee. As she sipped it standing at the sink looking out the window, she watched as the breeze wafted through the trees surrounding the back yard. The space was large…and green…and boring.
She decided that the vampires really did need a gazebo… and an outdoor grilling area even they didn’t eat anything, grilled or otherwise. A pool would be nice, too, she decided on their behalf.
Subconsciously she scratched lightly at her belly. She was full – her ever so slightly swollen stomach bore testament to how much food she’d just inhaled, but she was still…munchy.
With a sigh she hauled out the left-over hot wings and although they smelled horrible to her now, she valiantly chewed and swallowed as fast as she could. She rinsed her mouth with coffee when she successfully held down the last bite.
She remembered how proud Pam had been of her choices, and snickered at the vampire’s reasoning – red was, of course, the best food group…but hot wings?
After becoming as sated as she figured she was going to get, Cara quickly washed her hands twice and cleaned up the kitchen while marveling at how quickly she could move now that she was no longer sick.
Maybe I had one of those weird new flu strains and just hadn’t realized how sick I’d been, or for how long…maybe? Whatevs… I feel fine now.
The tv, even with the oddly vast number of channels available, quickly proved as uninteresting as ever, so she found a decent music station and tidied up the den…then the living room…then the hallway. The kitchen, however, demanded her attention again.
Even though the remains were wrapped in the plastic grocery bag from their purchase, the hot wings in the trash can still stunk to high heaven, so Cara located another trash bag, wrapped them up again, and set them outside the kitchen door. She figured they could stink up the carport.
Once outside she took a curious look around and decided that the front yard was just as boring as the back.
She was on the verge of opening doors to different rooms to see if they needed a quick cleaning when she heard a quiet rumbling noise.
The shutters were timed to close at 4:00 pm, she remembered, frustrated that she had no reference for such knowledge.
What the hell had happened to her memory?
With an irritated harrumph she returned to the kitchen and started another cup of coffee, and as it brewed into her cup, she missed seeing the boring green back yard now hidden by the shutters.
Before the coffee machine shut off, among the caffeinated aromatics she caught a whiff of a heady male scent that made her heart beat faster. She turned – and instinctively hissed and jumped backwards onto the kitchen counter when a vampire blurred to a stop before her.
Fangs she didn’t know she had clicked down and nicked her lower lip.
One look into the unutterably relieved vampire’s intense blue gaze brought back all of Cara’s missing memories with a gasp.
“YOU BIT ME! You fucking bit me!” She blinked, and before Godric could say a word, she touched a fang and added, “And what the hell is in my mouth?”
**A/N: You know I wanted to write “servings of Pam” or “doses of Pam”, right? Anyway, what did you think?”