Godric sat on the edge of his large double bed, his legs slightly apart and feet flat against the dark wooden floor of his bedroom. The light from the lamp on the small table by the headboard casting ominous shadows over the sparsely furnished room.
He stared blankly at the photo mounted high above the mantel directly across from the bed. His gazed was fixed on one particular spot, the face of a woman he'd never see again. A woman who had gone from a powerful vampire despite her young age to a congealed sticky pile of goo that still lay splattered over his bed sheets, down his blue jeans, across his grey shirt and smeared of the pale youthful features of his face.
He sat still, every muscle under the skin rigid, visible beneath the tight fabric of his shirt. He had been in Scotland, dealing with a vampire from his area who had fled with the assistance of some humans in order to escape his trial, he had been stood, holding the stake, his fingers curled loosely around the sharp piece of wood ready to plunge it into the vampires chest when the first little sparks of distress had come through their bond.
He had dropped the stake to the cold hard concrete ground at his feet, looked up at the sky and took off much to the annoyance and confusion to those around him.
Godric had arrived just as Nora was dying, the pain almost crimpling as he made his way at vampire speed up the stairs and into his bedroom. He all but threw himself on the bed, wrapped his arm around her waist and bit viciously into his wrist; the blood that had changed her from a sickly human into a vibrant blood thirsty vampire coated his pale skin and sheets.
He had tried to get her to drink but it was pointless, by the time he'd arrived the blood had already began to pour from her head and Eric's screams of complete anguish had become almost dethroning to his sensitive ears.
Godric had tried to comfort him, placing a gentle hand on Eric's broad back as they held Nora between them; it was the only thing he could do to stop himself from crying out as she turned to Goo in their arms.
He'd felt it, the second she'd died, the minute his arm had slid gently around her waist it felt as though every drop of blood in his body had been replaced with pure liquid silver. She had been taken from them, from him in a matter of seconds, hep V destroying 348 years of a bloodline quicker than it would have taken her to burn in the sun.
He stood and turned to face the bed, bringing his hand curled into a fist to
his lips he bit into it harshly to keep himself from screaming. He had to be strong, for Eric. He would greave privately and only after he'd destroyed every single human who had anything to do with Nora.
He pulled his fist back from his lips, his tongue snaking out to lick absentmindedly at his own blood. It was then that he tasted it, sweet and a little bitter, her blood. He remembered then that he'd kissed her softly on the forehead; a last gesture that he hoped had given her at least a little comfort in her final few minutes.
With an audible click his fangs extended, a raw animalistic sound leaving his throat as he tore his way out of the house into the sky. The streets of Louisiana would flow red that night,