**A/N: This chapter is short, but shows a bit more of how Godric is just now. **
Mere yards into the wooded area outside his Son’s establishment, the mangled Were’s blood seeped into the earth, completely ignored by the ancient vampire pacing too quickly for his movements to be seen.
He knew he should perhaps be concerned for having disposed of the trash that thought itself good enough to approach his Cara, but…he could not. All he felt was a smug sense of victory for having saved his woman from being forced to deal with the attentions of one so vulgar.
He didn’t know her well, a thing he planned to rectify at her earliest convenience, or maybe he would wait more, he pondered as his thoughts took flight. These things took planning, and planning took time…time he had in abundance for nights upon dreary nights…but his nights were no longer so dreary, he thought with a soft smile, not since he had first scented his lovely Cara…but… With great effort, he focused his mind. He did know that she deserved the good things in life, the finer things, things having nothing to do with disgusting Weres and so-called friends who were actually little more than gainfully employed whores.
Thinking he heard a noise, he halted his pacing in time to recognize the movement of the dying Were’s twitching fingers. Torture. He loved to torture those deserving of such services, but this pathetic beast was only naturally attracted to the shining beauty of his woman; he could not fault the male such a thing, only for foolishly acting upon it.
He had spied the Were staring at his Cara all evening.
Of course he knew of the Were’s interest; any blooded male would notice his Cara, and part of his observation of her naturally included paying attention to her surroundings. But just because he understood the attraction felt by the Were didn’t mean he would allow contact by any means
All he saw was threat.
Potential violation of what was HIS.
His instincts screamed for him to subdue and remove the intruder, and he no longer ignored his instincts in favor of being his other self.
Godric’s vision had reddened slightly under the fury of his anger and his fundamental need to protect his Cara from the questionable intent of the Were headed straight toward her. Just because he had not yet publically claimed her was irrelevant. She was his. She was HIS.
His only thought was to intercept and remove the trespasser invading his territory before it had a chance to harm his female.
During his flight as he approached his unfortunate target, his hands had formed into claws and his eyes had darkened to pitch black, and his fangs had elongated even further. Every single muscle in his 2000-plus year old body was tensed and ready for immediate action.
Far too quickly for even most vampires to notice, Godric had tackled and removed the Were mere seconds before he’d approached close enough to his Cara for her to notice his hasty removal. In a blur, he had exited that section of the establishment and took it out the back into the nearby woods where it lay dying, befouling the earth with its fetid odor.
It twitched its fingers once again. So, with a garbled crunch, he stomped the Were’s throat to grant him mercy…and cease its annoying existence.
Mission accomplished, he glanced down only to realize his clothing was soaked through with the blood of the now-dead trespasser. While he was proud of his protective actions and would gladly wear the blood of his dead enemies for weeks on end, he could not risk his Cara seeing him in such a state. She did not appear to be faint of heart, but he also knew her to be a lady, and if she were to glimpse him in such disarray… He shook his head. That would not make the proper first impression. At least that detested pair of shoes could now be thrown away, and the Child of his progeny could not say a word.
As he quickly returned to the building and made his way to shower in his rooms within, he contemplated what his next actions should be. Even with his fresh way of seeing all things, he knew himself to be a great strategist. Once showered, dressed and headed back to the table where his Son awaited his return, he realized that he would still have to wait to experience his Cara.
His ways were strongly returning to him, but he still felt…unpredictable. He knew he could not yet risk coming too close to his human. Not yet. He knew he was still too volatile, too…out of sorts, and he refused to risk her safety even for his own pleasure…especially for his own pleasure. If he harmed her in any way, not even the sun could hold him.
He still did not know where these feelings, these blood-deep instincts driving him to her, came from, but he didn’t care. He was hers, and she was keeping him tethered to reality. Well, his new reality, at any rate. She smelled like home.
Mere minutes later, he paused at a banister near his progeny to gaze down at his Cara. She was still sitting with her friend, apparently none the wiser of her rescue. Satisfied that she seemed well, he turned his blue gaze toward his Child.
His Son. Only his Son knew the truth of the way things were, and still are. The gentle creature he’d been, gone. That was not who he was. Yet, neither was he Death. He was not either one; they were strangers to him. For over 2000 years he had been…someone else. Death had brought him life in the form of his Son, but Death had died to become someone else, someone he did not understand…someone he did not want to understand.
He did not want to be Death, but he did not want to be that other creature, either. That soft creature had fooled him – had fooled him into believing that being a creature of his nature was a bad thing, that feeding on humans was a bad thing. He had even fooled him into thinking it would be a good thing to voluntarily go with the Fellowship.
But…that creature had also saved the life of his Son’s light…even if the pretty blonde was refusing to speak to his Son at the moment.
Startling Eric who hadn’t realized that his Maker had returned to his seat beside him, a slight chuckle escaped his firm lips as he remembered the latest heated “discussion” between Eric and his beloved Sookie. Of course Eric had no idea that he was in love with the girl, and apparently the girl had no idea, either. They were sadly funny in their determination to remain apart when they were so well-suited to each other.
The imp in him briefly contemplated causing some excitement between the two, but he quickly changed his mind. Left to their own devices, they would fuck up quite enough as it was. He could reassess the situation later.
“Mission accomplished,” Eric asked drolly as he absorbed the waves of self-satisfaction rolling off his freshly-showered Maker.
Mentally Godric sighed. His Child cared very deeply for him, far beyond the usual Maker/Child bond, and he appreciated him for that, but Eric could be so stodgy at times.
Godric looked over at his progeny with more clarity in his visage than usual for recent times. A smugly quirked brow answered the question, and halted others.
Inexplicably and unaccountably proud of his Maker, Eric simply inclined his head in acknowledgment and let the issue drop.