(Godric makes a plan)
Instead of visiting Cara himself, Godric sent his child. He had serious matters needing his attention, certainly, but he also knew Isabel wanted to thank Cara personally for her help.
That Isabel was also practically gifted when it came to gathering information was indeed a bonus, but she also seemed to genuinely like the human above and beyond mere gratitude.
True friendships were difficult for his child to find or maintain. Unfortunately it was not uncommon for a vampire to attempt to use her to get close to him because of his power. Thankfully Isabel had an innate distrust of such posers.
Godric was not surprised that his child seemed taken with Cara. He had “raised” her to have more respect and tolerance for humans than most vampires naturally did, so developing a friendship with the lovely human would perhaps be easy for her. With no small pride, he also knew his child was deft at explaining ideas and concepts, so it only made sense that he would send her over with instructions to help the human understand more of their world.
Cara handled their conversation from the night before quite well. Never once did she seem overwhelmed or frightened, even when perhaps she should have been. The broad overview of “the vampire world”, as she called it, had gone quite smoothly. He hoped Isabel would smoothly guide the conversation into more specific areas.
Plus, he was not entirely sure he could actually trust himself to be around Cara…alone. This was one of those times when discretion was definitely the better part of valor. Her enchanting scent, those lively eyes, that mischievous grin, those full, firm breasts… Yes, a brief retreat was definitely in order. Godric grimaced as he remembered his surprising reaction.
So, he had sent in his child. Although Isabel did not verbally question his willingness to share their secrets with a human, he knew she was right to be curious about intentionally sharing such things with Cara. Secrecy was a basic tenet of the undead world; it was engrained into every vampire upon their first rising.
The truths of their world had to be kept silent, guarded from those who would search them out and destroy them. But, if he wanted Cara to know and understand his reality, there were many things she would need to know. Perhaps if she understood his world, it would be easier for her to understand him, too? It seemed peculiar to him that he would crave her understanding.
Puzzled by an odd urge to feed, Godric strode to the kitchen to warm himself a bottle of blood. He knew his need to feed was not due for several more weeks, but had felt his thirst growing when he rose that afternoon. As an ancient vampire, actual thirst was rare.
As he sat down behind his desk and raised his bottle of warmed blood to his lips, he considered the possible results of the visit between his child and Cara. He trusted his child to respect the human, and to ease her into the sordid mess that was vampire politics and customs. He hoped she would not delve too deeply into the less savory aspects, especially the most arcane customs regarding humans. He personally did not hold with treating humans as mere objects or assets to be owned and sternly controlled, but he knew that many older vampires still believed in the old ways.
Unfortunately, if things progressed as he found himself hoping, Cara would eventually have to be made aware of some of the more barbaric, archaic traditions. However, he wanted to be the one to describe them to her so that he could immediately reassure her that he did not agree with treating humans as controlled, humiliated, subservient pets.
The longer he could delay her knowledge of the distasteful side of vampire customs, the better. As brave as she was, and as independent as she appeared, she still seemed extremely skittish. He was determined to know why.
He pushed the empty bottle of blood aside with a grimace. He swore cat piss smelled better. The thought of using a donor was oddly just as unappealing.
Thankfully, Isabel was a highly skilled interrogator; he wished her better results with Cara than he, himself, had enjoyed. A wry grin passed his firm lips as he remembered his own surprisingly less-than-successful attempts. The clever human seemed especially skilled in avoidance and diversionary tactics when it came to talking about herself. He wondered how their visit was progressing.
Was Cara laughing in that warm, velvet tone? Were her eyes sparkling as she said something witty or charming? Were her plump, pink lips curved up in a sweet smile or were they pursed in thought? Were her dark brows slightly drawn together as she considered her next words? Were her luminous, deep brown eyes focused and sharp as she asked a probing question, or were they unfocused and slightly dreamy as she contemplated possibilities? Was her scent as luscious and enthralling tonight as it was…
He shifted to rearrange the uncomfortably large bulge tenting his pants. He hoped he could soon carve enough time for another visit but he wondered if he should dare.
Shaking his head, Godric determinedly focused his attention on the more urgent subject of the disappearing Were pack. When he had returned from Cara’s home the previous night, he discovered from Scott that the pack had vanished. The house they had inhabited was deserted and there were no clues as to their current location.
Resolutely, he contacted the MoonTracker packmaster. His previous dealings with this less-disgusting pack were satisfactory, and he had a tolerable working relationship with their packmaster, DesChamps. He charged DesChamps with locating the now missing Weres, and hoped he could discover why they attacked his child, assuming it had nothing to do with his position on the Council.
As Weres were well known for providing adequate security, he arranged with DesChamps to provide daytime protection for his estate, and for Cara. That two of the Weres who attacked his child were loose was a serious matter; that they knew Cara’s scent was a risk he refused to take.
Until this situation was resolved to his satisfaction, he would provide Cara with round-the-clock security. Already Ryan was hidden in place as her nighttime guard; installing Weres to watch over her during the daytime hours only made sense. Her knowledge of such precautions was not necessary.
He leaned back in his desk chair as he contemplated Cara’s probable reaction to such measures. Possibly she would not object, but he doubted it. He suspected she had a temper, but she was also intelligent. He promptly decided she would understand the necessity of his measures.
She would be glorious in her temper, though. His lids lowered and his muscles tensed as he considered how her eyes would flash and how her cheeks would redden. His eyes gleamed and his fangs erupted as he envisioned how her scent would grow stronger, how her breath would quicken and her heart would pound…
Fuck. Already he wanted another bath.
Gervaise interrupted his musings as he knocked then entered Godric’s office. “Here are the latest reports on the situation between Iago and Wilhelm,” he handed over a rather thick folder, “and this is the data available on that annoying human rights group.” This folder was handed over with a sneer.
Godric sighed to himself. Gervaise truly had no use for humans other than feeding and fucking. At a little less than 300 years old, he had learned how to subdue his baser tendencies, and his organizational skills were exceptional. That was apparently his only undeath gift, but he was valuable because of it.
“Thank you, Gervaise. If the Were DesChamps calls or comes by, notify me immediately. You are dismissed.” Gervaise bowed slightly and left.
At least the underling knew how to behave toward his elders, Godric mentally noted as he reached for the Iago/Wilhelm folder. Poor Iago. He admired his restraint. He knew exactly how much Iago would enjoy eviscerating the stubborn, smarmy, sanctimonious Wilhelm.
Fifteen minutes later, Godric suddenly dropped the folder, sat up straight, and grabbed his cell phone. After finishing his brief call, he immediately made a list, contacted his night man, and sent him on his errands. Then he called a mandatory staff meeting to commence in four hours. Scott and Alaric might have returned from their investigations by then.
Cara would have called Godric’s intensely self-satisfied smirk wickedly attractive. Those who knew him better would have called it devious.
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