Disclaimer:
Anything you recognise belongs to the creative genius that is Charlaine Harris and/or Alan Ball. I'm just playing around with their universe(s).
xXx
1
Godric had spent the past few hours filling out paperwork as it was one of the (many) duties of the Sheriff of area 9, Texas. The territory was geographically not particularly big, covering all of Dallas and outskirts, but the vampire population was surprisingly dense for such a southern location. The close quarters to the many humans required both a firm, governing hand to avoid a number of threats to the Mainstreaming movement – such as drained bodies popping up all over the place – and a close working relationship with the human law enforcement authorities.
Precious few humans knew of this position, but Mark Jenkins - the head of Dallas' police force - was one of the chosen ones. He had more than once wished that he was as oblivious to the large, semi-structured vampire community as most of the people happily walking the streets at night seemed to be, but as it turned out, his direct contact to their Sheriff had made solving unexplainable cases a little easier, and over the years he had learnt to trust the youthful-looking man in charge of the fanged part of Dallas' population with delicate matters. If Godric said he'd solve a problem, it got solved, and often rather swiftly.
So it was with some relief that he had faxed over the details of attacks made around one of the bigger parks in Dallas over the past month. People seemed to just disappear when they walked around the area after sundown, only to turn up in bits and pieces down-river.
It wasn't that the Dallas police couldn't draw their own conclusions, but Mark wasn't particularly into having his men take on a clearly feral night creature and without a doubt losing several lives in the process, when the local vampire Sheriff was perfectly capable of taking care of the situation with a lot less bloodshed.
Godric had cast a quick glance at the paperwork labelled 'urgent', including several gruesome pictures of body parts found and linked to the crimes, and had concluded that a feral vampire had moved it into his territory. He'd sent his very capable second and third in command out to catch the wretch while he stayed back to take care of the mountain of paperwork he unfortunately couldn't task anyone else with, content in the knowledge that they'd bring back the perpetrator for him to sentence.
So it was a surprise when Isabel and Stan returned, empty handed and caked in mud, an hour before dawn.
"What happened?" he inquired calmly, face schooled into the expressionless mask he wore like a second skin these days, pale fingertips carefully balanced against each other on top of his large, polished desk. He was not happy; he was not accustomed to having his underlings fail him – partly because he made sure to surround himself with competent people, partly because he never misjudged the tasks he set them to.
"Little bitch gave us the run-around," Stan grumbled angrily, kicking mud off his cowboy boots so it landed on the parquet floorboards with a splatter that was all too noticeable to vampire hearing. Godric ignored it; he didn't have it in him to be upset about dirty floors.
Isabel, on the other hand, glared at her nest-mate before turning her attention to Godric. "We believe it is a very young female, but she is unusually fast. We couldn't get close enough to silver her." She had the decency to look ashamed at having failed the rather simple task.
"And we couldn't get a clear shot in when we brought out the crossbows," the big male added. "We spent the entire night chasing after her until she managed to just disappear into thin air. She's like some damn witch!"
Godric's blue eyes flickered between the two vampires in his area he trusted most. "So, let me get this straight: A baby vampire managed to escape the both of you – all night? A baby vampire that has been terrorising the human population in my territory and is a menace to the Mainstream movement – in my area?"
His soft voice made them both shiver. Godric didn't often get angry, but his disappointment was a rather terrifying thing in itself
"We're sorry, Sheriff," Isabel whispered, head bowed. "We'll try again tomorrow night."
The sheriff's full lips pinched together in a disapproving frown. "We do not have time for you to fail another night; more dead humans will not make this easier to cover up. I will handle this myself."
Godric was 2000 years old. He had no need for silver or crossbows to capture a single baby vampire, his strength being among one of the absolute largest forces of nature in the Americas. There was not the creature – human or not – that could outrun him, and his centuries spent tracking through Europe's large forests had made him an extremely skilled hunter on top of that.
He spent a little time in the park the rogue vampire seemed to have made her hunting grounds picking up her scent and her tracks.
It was definitely a young female – he could still sense the remains of humanity in her blood, and her scent had that small pull on his animalistic nature all vampires recognised in the other gender - and she seemed to be barefoot he noted as he crouched down over a feather light footprint a human wouldn't have been able to spot, which was left from her flight from his underlings the night before. A feral baby vampire for sure.
An uninvited image of himself as newly made popped into his mind, and he briefly wondered where her maker was. No sane vampire would leave a new-born to his or her own devices – not only was it a menace to the human population, but young ones hardly ever made it past their first year even with the guidance of an experienced mentor, and losing your Child was said to be one of the most painful experiences a vampire could go through.
As he ran the perimeter of the park, criss-crossing through it in set patterns he managed to pick up a fresh scent, and stopped abruptly; she was circling him like a cautious predator. She was hunting him.
He managed to hide a surprised grin as he settled himself on a park bench, hunched over with his elbows resting on his knees in a casually relaxed position to lure her in. If he was completely honest with himself he would have to admit that getting out and hunting had given him more of a thrill than it should have; he really had spent too much time behind his desk in the past few years.
The fact that this young one thought she could in any way overpower him was amusing; if she'd had any sort of sense she would have trusted her instincts that must have been telling her that he was much more powerful than her and run off.
He could hear her balancing in the tree that let its branches shadow over the bench he was sat on and felt his muscles tense in anticipation of an incoming fight. But she just seemed to sit there, high above him, staring holes in his back.
"You know I can sense you, right?" he finally called, when the silence had stretched for a good half an hour.
She didn't reply immediately, and he mentally shook his head at her if she thought she could convince him that she wasn't there simply by being silent.
But finally, he heard the leaves on the branch she was settled on rustle slightly as she shifted her weight, leaning a little closer. "You are like me, aren't you?" a scared whisper sounded from above his head.
xXx
A/N: I've had this idea floating around in my head for a while and just had to scribble it down to see how it turned out. Hopefully, it seems interesting enough to continue!