**A/N: This chapter is a bit on the short side, but the next chapter is close to being finished, so it won’t be too long until the other one is posted, if that helps… Also, don’t kill me. No one else has copies of my work…**
Normally when Godric rose for the night, his first instinct would be to survey his immediate surroundings before even opening his eyes, an action which could alert a potential captor of his awareness. Within a second he would take stock of the information relayed to him via his senses: was there pain? Was he hotter or colder than he should have been in that location? Were his limbs free or somehow shackled?
With the same attention to minute detail, during that time he would also focus on scent and sound and compare what should be with what actually was.
Once his other senses would confirm his safety, he would open his eyes and proceed with his rising habits. With his advanced age, all was accomplished within two seconds of waking.
Upon rising that afternoon, the first thing he noticed was that his skin was touching fabric, not Cara.
When he had unwillingly allowed the sun to pull him under mere hours ago, it was with the dull knowledge that he might rise to find his beloved in the midst of Turning…or worse, although with the amount of blood she had been given, the likelihood of death was extremely unlikely. His understanding of how to possibly avoid that had been limited at best, but he had hoped desperately that the combination of his, his Child’s, and to his amazement his grandChild’s blood would heal rather than Turn.
As the hours progressed, however, his hopes had seemed more and more futile. Her faint heartbeat had neither sped nor strengthened; neither had her shallow breaths. The cool, mortal stillness of her beautiful body had broken his heart and so he had gone into his day death certain that, despite his best efforts, he would rise to find her in the midst of Turning.
At least she would still exist, and be strong and powerful, his beast had reassured him with an insultingly jubilant satisfaction.
Yes, he wanted her to stand by his side, immortal, fearless – never aging, never sickening, never dying, but only by her own choice. Respecting her enough to allow her that choice had been his sole intention.
His heart heavy with guilt and remorse, he had curled protectively around his Cara and began planning all that he could do to ease her transition.
Although he had most likely killed that which might have wrought him whole and sane, he would see that she had the best of all things. He had mortally wounded the one for whom he would gladly die, and now he must live to see her thrive.
But she was not there when he rose.
Within a second of passing through the doorway from nothing to wakefulness, he knew he was alone, and he should not have been…had she been changing.
The familiar yet oddly new scent on the bed and in the air caught his attention, and he inhaled great gusts and the unique fragrance of his Cara, while different, was still that of his Cara!
Yes, he detected more of Eric and Pam than he would have liked, but his beast purred when his own scent came through far stronger and deeper than theirs, yet…
Somehow, she yet lived…
Instantly stifling the relief threatening to burst though his soul – he would feel no solace until he had seen her with his own eyes and held her in his own arms – he rose.
Three seconds after he left the scene of her possible death, he was at the entrance to the kitchen gazing in astonishment at the living, breathing embodiment of all that was good in his life.
There she was – wearing a ratty old tee-shirt that he would love to strip from her body and shorts of some stretchy material, the beautiful, luscious creature who held his heart in her small hands was making a cup of her beloved coffee.
He had followed her scent and the precious sounds of her heart and lungs, and had felt his own heart throb in exaltation when his eyes first found his love.
Godric almost fell to his knees in relief – in some way, somehow, his Cara yet lived!
Thankfully the gods of old had not forsaken him during his time of abject stupidity.
Immediately he detected the stench of foods in the room and found the way it marred his Cara’s scent most distasteful. Of course he could smell the coffee and juice, too, so evidently she had taken food and drink.
The fact he also smelled sunshine scared the fuck out of him.
If she…but…sunshine? How?
It made him wonder.
Since she smelled oddly both human and vampire, he was unsure as to her true species and so took pains to approach carefully. The agitated instincts of a baby vampire could cause them to attack without any true provocation and he would not have her bear that guilt no matter how much he deserved all that she could do to him and more.
His beast sent a burst of apology. That it was tinged with hope that his Cara was more vampire than human was not acknowledged.
As he gazed at her form, mesmerized by her grace and her beauty now even more refined, he sensed Eric rising for the night, and sent him a strong burst of “stay“. He could tell that his Child was very concerned and oddly curious, but he would have to wait. Eric could be trusted to pass the message on to Pamela when she rose.
He watched in fascination as his Mate apparently caught his scent on the air. For an instant she had done as any newly-Turned would and went completely still as she concentrated on using her now far stronger senses. When she sniffed the air several more times with a small pleasantly curious smile curving her lips, he thought the crinkling of her nose was one of the cutest things he had ever seen.
The thoroughly male part of him crowed in satisfaction that his Mate relished his scent.
Thus without giving it further thought, and while absolutely unconcerned with his state of undress or any other meaningless thing, he finally approached her.
He may have moved a bit too rapidly in his haste to assure himself of her health from a far closer perspective, however, and watched with both a lover and an elder Maker’s pride as his Cara instinctively jumped backward up onto the cabinet, and bared her sweet fangs at him.
Whether he was her actual Maker was as yet an unknown, but his pride and delight went even deeper than a Maker’s for their Child.
“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?”
He stopped, frozen, as he took in her appearance. Although he could now clearly see that she was not entirely vampire, still, her instinctive reactions brought satisfaction to his old soul. Her actions would have been considered perfect for one decades old!
She had scented her environment, and although she had gone still while doing so, it had not hindered her ability to instantly react as necessary. She had not only tapped into a vampire’s innate aptitude for spatial memory, but she had automatically assumed both defensive and offensive tactics!
Her skin was smooth and slightly paler but her cheeks were still flushed, her eyes were clearer yet somehow darker, her heart was beating rapidly, and her breaths were coming quicker in her short fright.
And her little fangs were sexy as fuck.
No matter what she was, his Cara was perfect, and he could not be more relieved or euphoric. He firmly tamped down his body’s natural response.
In his glee at this incredible proof of Cara’s wellbeing, he answered her with the first thing that came to mind, “You bit me first.”
Her expression still showed her shock, but her quick grin at his quip heartened him considerably.
Slowly he approached the counter, placed his strong yet faintly trembling hands around her waist, and lowered her to stand before him.
He could stand the distance no longer, and immediately took her into his arms, and pulled her to his firm chest. As his hands glided over her back, her legs and her arms, finally stopping on each side of her neck, he was pleased to note that while she wasn’t quite as warm as she had been, she was still warmer than his own cool temperature.
His Cara was supposed to be warm, with a pink tint to her cheeks and lips, and he was relieved to find that, in essence, that had not changed.
But some things had, his beast purred seductively.
“And, if I am not mistaken,” he moved a hand to stroke a fingertip across one deceptively delicate-looking fang, “these are your fangs, ma chérie.”
His eyes grew heated as she shivered and her eyes dilated with pleasure. Fangs, as he well knew, were an extreme erogenous zone, one that, later, he would thoroughly explore with her.
Just now, however, he had to know how she truly fared, but before he could speak, he saw her brown eyes darken even further as a tiny whimper escaped her mouth.
**A/N: I should have the next chapter up in the next few days, so, yeah, no offin’ the writer… *ducks anyway* So, what did you think?**