Godric shifted in the slightly-damp dirt and breathed an unnecessary sigh of pleasure. The sun had risen hours ago, and while his body knew of the dangers it posed, his advanced age released his mind from much of the orb’s pull.
He sifted some soil through his fingertips, and reveled in his well-deserved freedom, then snorted. While he was not free from the burning sun, he was free, if only temporarily, from Eric and that mainstreaming bullshit he was trying to pull over on gullible humans.
Although fiercely and unabashedly closer to where he had started, he knew his Child had only his very best interests at heart, but damn. He was so fucking tired of not killing when he wanted – trespassing Weres justifiably excluded, of course, of not maiming when the mood struck him, of faking that he was tame to ensure Eric’s continued station in the political structure…and of wearing fucking shoes all the damn time.
He sighed. There was never a good, convenient war when he wanted one. However, there were quite a few unstable governments in the world, and if there was one thing he knew, it was how to start a war.
But he knew he wouldn’t leave. He smiled beatifically. He couldn’t. Invisible ties, brown eyes, pink cheeks…ties stronger than any substance known to any species, had drawn him to this place and would ruthlessly keep him here until or unless the owner of those ties chose to move.
Oh, Cara, his beautiful Cara…
His mind, soul, and hardening body called out to her, and would continue to do so until he met his final death.
What he could bear to remember from his previously civilized days cautioned him to go slow, to woo and charm and seduce his Cara into his arms no matter how long it took, so long as she was happy and comfortable…and his at the end of it all.
His demon, the beast living inside of him that had all the fun, the one he could never again allow completely free rein, demanded that he immediately secure his Mate in his arms and in his bed until she, sweaty and exhausted and fully spent, filled with his blood and his seed and his scent, truly became his.
The smugly competent demon had even planned it all out. He would set fire to her car, and when she breached the magical barrier of her unworthy apartment, he would immediately gather her into the safety of his arms and escape with her to the large estate he had ordered built on land purchased near Eric’s own undeveloped property. He grinned deviously – Eric had no idea of most of his Maker’s holdings, including that one.
The site, planned and built during his annoyingly calm phase, had all the comforts any female – human or vampire – would want, including electricity, more-than-adequate plumbing for extravagant facilities, and some sort of internet mumbo jumbo the contractor Were had told him was all the rage. The underground section was more than triple in size of the above-ground section, and even more comfortably outfitted.
The younger part of his mind was quite proud of the camouflaged solar paneling and wind generators, the private water systems since vampires did love a long, warm soak, and the grand, well-stocked library.
The older, deeper part of his mind, the part that honored his many survival instincts, hummed in satisfaction regarding his ability to secure himself deep within the vast, hidden cave system he had located beneath the “basement” of the property. The discovery had been a bright surprise during the excavation of the “basement” and knowledge of the discovery had been quickly glamoured from the construction workers. Unfortunately, even should it become necessary, it was in no way adequately prepared to support a human.
Yes…he could see it now, his beast suddenly purred in pleasure as his fangs descended. Although he knew this plan would only be used as a last resort, that he would attempt to remain patient and civilized, he still felt a deeply primal joy in dreaming of the possibilities.
He would gather her in his arms and fly them to his home. Once there, he grinned, he would carry her – still in his arms – across the threshold. He wondered briefly if she would know what that meant. Would she know about the exchanging of the knives? No, no, that was vampire… He shook his head to clear it. What about the jumping of the broom or the wrapping and binding of the cords? Would she know of these traditions?
He shook his head again, irritated with himself for his meandering trains of thought. He used to be more focused…
Oh, yes, Cara… He would immediately show her around her new home so that she would know where all her new things were. Women, during his human days at least, ran the home and all that happened within it, even in the bedroom….sort of. If she said no, then he would not cross that line. Even his somewhat malevolent beast agreed. Rape? Never.
His demon nudged his shoulder. Trickery, cajolery, and seduction, however… Sure, why not. He wanted her willing, and he wanted her hard and fast and pounding and slow and easy and forever…
But if she said yes, then…
His back arched as bolts of pleasure burned through his body. If she said yes, then he would spend the rest of his nights worshiping and protecting her body, learning and admiring her mind, and handling her soul with the softest of touches.
He would slowly undress her so as not to frighten her with his need and impatience. Then he would start at her feet, kissing, touching, learning the curves and planes of her arches and ankles, and he would slowly work his way up, feeling the muscles in her calves, the place behind her knees that women so often forgot could be as pleasurable as it was ticklish, and then he would spread her thighs wide to better scent her, to better taste her, to…
His unexpected and surprisingly jerky release at the mere thought of tasting his Mate left him trembling with aftershocks and grinning crookedly for a few minutes. He would never admit to the panting, though. He laughed. That he would rise soiled, however, didn’t bother him a bit. There was a stream nearby for washing, and his clothing was safely stored in an irritatingly crinkly plastic bag beneath his head.
Wiggling his toes and loving the feel of the dirt as he resituated his feet, he began planning more details as the sun rose higher in the brightening sky he would never see again. Her human sensibilities would require that she would want clothing, he thought with a grimace. So…he would have her some clothing brought in. He wondered if she hated confining her feet into foot prisons as much as he did.
He must procure food for his woman, too, things that would keep since he didn’t know how long his control would last. She ate salads, he remembered, even though she seemed to prefer fried…things. Did these foods come in cans? There were many shelves in that room, and he had a feeling that he was forgetting some things that went on those shelves. But he did have a sink, he thought with a smile. It had come with the house, as did the refrigerator and microwave – and he even knew what those things did, but wasn’t too sure about the large metal box. He remembered that it had something to do with what women did in that room.
He had also noticed that she always drank coffee – he smiled as he recalled the pleasure on her face as she inhaled the surprisingly pleasing aroma of that drink. He assumed there must be a sort of machine for that, too…his memories… His head hurt as he tried to remember more from his annoyingly calm days but he finally reached the memory he wanted. Yes! A coffee machine.
And cups. He would need to procure cups, too, for her coffee. And spoons. She used a spoon with it, and he would want to provide her with more than one cup and one spoon, even though that’s all she would use at one time.
He sighed heartily.
There were a lot of things he needed to procure to ready his home for his Mate. She would want for nothing, ever. He would provide her with everything she needed and anything she wanted…even if he had no idea what that was.
He needed a day person, he realized with a scowl. He would ask his Child… No.
Eric was the second most important being on the planet, right after his Mate, and while it would please his soul for the two of them to get along well, there was always the chance that Eric might wish to revert to their old ways and share his Mate with him. No matter his Son’s feelings for the telepath, his Cara was just too enticing…his Son, just too much like himself.
And Godric would hate to have to end his own Son. His Cara was no whore to be shared. There would be no sharing – he would never insult or demean her in any way.
His beast roared and snarled at the mere thought of anyone touching her. Anyone.
No, his Cara was his and his alone. He hissed even as he felt the risen sun calling him to his daysleep.
Suddenly, he grinned. He would simply command Eric to feel no sexual desires toward his Cara. Problem? Solved.
He had to remain buried upon waking the next afternoon, but he was fine with his enforced rest. Although he would not allow himself to indulge in his fantasies of simply kidnapping the girl and being done with it, he did ponder which of her other friends he could glamour into preferring to visit TSO when out with Cara. He was heartily sick of the whiny whore.
Finally the sun sank low enough for him to rise, wash in the cold, clear stream, and, once sufficiently air dried, don his irreparably wrinkled clothing.
He had plans to make, a dayperson to engage, lists to make, and future “friends” to find and glamour.