Bathgate, Maine
From the outside, it looked like an abandoned cottage. Judging by the wild shrubbery and knee-high grass overtaking the yard, it hadn't been tended to in a while. The roof – a dark brown – appeared on the verge of collapsing inward, no doubt killing whatever creature had the misfortune of being inside.
"You are sure this is where she lives?" Godric asked, continuing to observe the small, dilapidated home.
"It is intentional," Isabel reassured. "Trust me, she's home."
"How do you know?"
She gestured her head to the left. Godric noticed a crooked, pink mailbox balancing precariously on a worn piece of plywood.
"If the mailbox is outside, she will see clients."
Sensing his hesitance, Isabel placed a hand on his shoulder.
"I would not take you to someone who I did not think was legitimate."
"Can she be trusted?"
"When I came here last, I had more troubling things on my mind. She put me at ease. For this reason, I trust her."
Before he could interrogate her further, Isabel set off toward the cottage.
Godric's soft footsteps soon followed.
"There is one thing I wanted to mention," she said, slowing her pace so he could catch up. "She is a little bit...eccentric."
"How so?"
"In some ways, she's quite formal. In others, very casual. She has some very...bohemian ideas."
Godric soaked this in, hands clasped behind his back.
"Am I not well adapted to interacting with humans?"
"Of course you are," she replied quickly.
"And yet, you feel the need to warn me that she is unusual."
Isabel paused in front of the door. Before knocking, she turned to him.
"You are one of the most sensible people I know, living or dead."
Godric didn't respond, sensing there was more.
"Having said that, you have a dislike of irregular people and uncertain situations. I can hardly fault you for this. It is your duty to adhere to facts, not feelings. Nevertheless, this reliance exclusively on facts has, in the past, resulted in impaired judgment"
Internally, he was stunned by the comment. One of Isabel's finest qualities was that she was blunt. Both on a professional and personal level.
While he appreciated her objectivity, he also felt strangely insulted at what she implied about his leadership.
Before he could voice any objections, he was cut off by the heavy creak of a door.
"Miss Isabel?"
He caught a blur of orange shuffling in the darkness.
"Yes," Isabelc confirmed, smiling. "I hope we are not late."
The door gradually inched open and the figure Isabel had been speaking with, stepped out of the shadows.
"Godric." Isabel turned to him. "This is Yuvi."
The vampire didn't budge from his spot. It had been a long time since he'd laid eyes on someone as uniquely looking as the young woman.
He did not think her hair was naturally a faded orange, but it matched well with her warm bronze skin. A little too wavy and unkempt for his liking, but he recognized – with some embarrassment – that she was not there to be presentable looking for him.
A pair of aviator goggles were perched on top of her head. He instantly wondered what use they served; especially when she already wore a pair of black, thick-rimmed glasses; albeit crookedly. He had to physically prevent his hand from rising and attempting to straighten them.
"Hello Mr. Godric," Yuvi greeted, extending her arm.
She just barely reached his shoulders, allowing him to easily tower over her. Briefly, he wondered how she would compare in size to Eric.
"A pleasure," Godric said, offering his own.
Her hand was soft to the touch, slightly smaller than his own.
"Ah!" Her light brown eyes lit up, nearly causing them to glow amber. "I love your hands, Mr. Godric."
Without much resistance, he allowed Yuvi to softly grab his opposite hand and study the interior. Her dark brows scrunched up and her tongue poked overtop her bottom lip.
"Vampires don't naturally regrow limbs?"
The intensity at which Yuvi voiced this caused Isabel to speak up.
"No, not naturally."
"What a shame, Mr. Godric. I would love to embalm your hands, keep them soaked in an Arubian oil, and let them age in a jar. They're exquisite."
When she squeezed his hands, it was with a remarkable amount of tenderness. He almost managed to forget her most recent suggestion.
"Thankfully, you read palms, not decapitate them," Isabel reminded.
A grin tore across her lips. "You're right!"
She released a chuckle which was quickly smothered by the back of her hand.
"Sorry. I haven't been a very gracious host. Please, Miss Isabel and Mr. Godric, come in."
Stepping aside, she eagerly watched them from the entryway, one hand lingering at her hip as a form of welcome.
Matching her smile, Isabel straightened her shoulders and walked forward. Godric followed her lead.
As soon as the door closed, the hallway they stood in became illuminated with fourteen candles; seven resting on each side of the hallway on metal hangers.
Doors littered the walls, but none were open. The hallway reminded Godric of the Roman dungeons from his years as a human.
"The waiting room is the first door on the left. If you would entertain yourself there, Miss Isabel, while I take Mr. Godric to the parlor."
She nodded, catching Godric's eyes. Though she knew it might be considered rude to her host, Isabel still switched to Gaulish.
"She is harmless. Go with her."
"She wishes to cut off my hands."
Isabel tried to hide her smile. "It is her way of complimenting them."
Before he could conjure another excuse, she darted inside the closest room to her left.
He didn't have to catch the palm reader studying him; she did little to hide it.
"There is a parlor?" he asked, pretending to clear his throat.
"Have you ever had your palm read, Mr. Godric?"
There was a brief debate held in him on how to answer the question. He didn't want to be perceived as a savage, but the truth wasn't one of his prouder ones.
"I have not," he admitted. "Though, I have eaten a few in my lifetime."
Yuvi adopted an expression of contemplation.
"How'd you fit them into your mouth?"
Momentarily stupefied, Godric elaborated, "I drained them of their blood."
Her eyes widened. "Oh, I see." She tilted her head. "How'd they taste?"
Her visible comfort in his presence frustrated him somewhat. Could she not see him for the monster he was? How could she take the slaughter of her own kind with such lightheartedness?
"Quite delicious. They've been a favorite of mine throughout the centuries."
It wasn't the complete truth. He'd drained four in his life, the last sometime around the twelve hundreds after an increase in occult activity following the fall of the Byzantine Empire. He wasn't entirely sure why he was trying to paint himself as a monster without allowing her to know him. Were Isabel still there, she would scold him for the self-disparagement.
"Huh." She rubbed absently at her neck. "So, you're saying I'm delicious?"
He blinked. "No."
"But-."
"I do not know if you are delicious," he clarified. "As you can imagine, not all palm readers taste the same."
"Only one way to find out"
Yuvi's fingers slipped beneath the gold tunic she wore. She gave the neckline a tug, exposing an unblemished oasis of skin.
One of his fangs threatened to shoot out, but he quickly slid his tongue beneath the tooth and pushed until the urge faded.
"That is not necessary," he said, revealing a strained smile.
She looked put out for a moment before giving him a careless shrug.
"I'm sure there's clubs for that, yes? Getting bitten?"
He mulled over the question with more consideration than usual, not wanting to steer her into danger. Despite his progeny owning a vampire club, he would never recommend sending a virgin inside. Her neck confirmed she had never been bitten. He was faintly disturbed at how nice the idea seemed in his head of his own fangs piercing her-.
Pulling himself from these thoughts, Godric focused his gaze on the end of the hallway.
"There are, yes. Though, I advise you be extremely cautious. Unmarked flesh is a temptation like no other. You may not like what happens should you venture near one."
She was quiet for so long that he gave in to the urge to look at her.
"This may surprise you about me, Mr. Godric, but I am experienced with this world. I don't know why you are trying so hard to make me scared of you, but if that is your desired response from me, I will oblige."
With that, she spun around on her boots and marched across the carpeted hallway. Godric followed, recognizing he'd be left behind if he didn't keep up.
From the way she ignored him, he got the impression he'd soured their introduction. As much as he disliked admitting it, she was right. He much preferred she fear him. Fear was familiar, and regarding his past deeds, justified.
"How old are you, Mr. Godric?"
He increased his stride to keep up with her.
"Truthfully, I lost count after the second millennium hit."
"Ah, a youngling."
"Youngling?" He turned to her. "It has been...a long time since I have been called young."
She paused in front of a door and reached into the back of her cargo pants.
"You are hardly the oldest thing I've encountered."
He felt strangely insecure at this information, and even more befuddled that he still felt insecurity at all.
Yuvi stuck a wooden key into the lock of the door and pushed. A creak similar to the front door's, echoed through the hall. Even before he saw the interior of the room, the scent of incense hit like a speeding train.
It was a peculiar mix of pine and apricots and something spicy he could not name. What amazed him more was the relaxation his body underwent. The moment the scent struck his nostrils, he felt his body decompress. Very few things in life allowed him that luxury anymore.
He trailed after Yuvi, slightly dazed.
"Please don't mind the mess."
She wasn't exaggerating.
The room was dark and cramped. A beautifully sculpted, dark, octagon table occupied the center of the room. Two beach chairs – both covered in the ugliest shade of yellow he'd ever seen – sat around the table.
One wall was home to a half dozen poorly nailed book shelves. His eyes swept over some of the titles.
The Fascinating World of Pixies
Demons & You: A Guide
The Dichotomy of Werewolf Biology
Scratch N' Sniff: An Encyclopedia of Scents
35 Practical Uses for Toe Nail Clippings
Metamorphi: An Almanac of the Most Dangerous Creatures in Our Dimension
Soul Food: A Cookbook
Constellations of the Known Universe
Practical Charms for the Practicing Witch
Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring
Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers
Lord of the Rings: Return of the King
The Secret World of Origami Folding
"You have an...eclectic taste," Godric observed, half tempted to swipe a few from the shelf and take a quick read-through.
He'd always held an allure to individuals who were well-read. Despite the odd topics of some of the books, he recognized what he'd been reluctant to earlier. In her own way, Yuvi was educated about the world; possibly in even more ways than he was.
"Also, don't mind Joss."
A loud croak followed this statement.
Godric's eyes dropped to the table. A large, dark green frog sat patiently at the center.
"He is your pet?"
Yuvi wandered over to a nearby windowsill and grabbed the long coat hanging there.
"He is my friend. There are no such thing as pets in this house."
The firmness in her tone left no room for arguments. Not that he held any desire to. Her regard for creatures smaller than herself made him respect her that much more.
"Boromir is somewhere around here, so don't be frightened if you feel something furry rub against your leg."
"Boromir is your cat?"
Yuvi turned in his direction, but her eyes were fixed on something behind him.
"Did you notice any pixies hanging around my home?"
"No," he answered. "Should there be?"
Her brows scrunched up together in concern. Temporarily ignoring him, she stalked over to the opposite window, located behind the vampire.
One hand propped the window open. Yuvi knelt down until her mouth was centimeters away from the glass.
"Please, knock it off."
From his angle, it looked like she was speaking to herself.
"I understand," she said, softer this time. "But he is harmless."
Intrigued, Godric inched closer to her.
"That was uncalled for. No more honey until you apologize."
With that, Yuvi sealed the window shut. A muffled bump ricocheted off the glass.
She rubbed her hands together.
"Er, shall we begin?"
Peering between the window and the young woman, Godric settled for a tentative nod. He hadn't believed in the existence of pixies, writing them off long ago as a Celtic fairy tale. Now, he wasn't so sure.
"If you would have a seat, please, Mr. Godric."
Yuvi was already reclined in her beach chair, staring at him with wide eyes.
Godric sought out the other chair and carefully sat. His weight caused the chair to squeak in protest.
"If you would, follow my movements."
Yuvi bunched up the sleeves of her brown, leather coat to expose her wrists. She placed them down on the table, roughly ten inches apart from each other.
When Godric remained inactive, she sighed and adjusted her glasses. Somehow, they remained crooked.
"There are a few things I can do for you, Mr. Godric."
She denied him eye contact, instead, choosing to stare at Joss.
"I can leave you to yourself for twenty minutes. This is the length of time Miss Isabel suggested I would need to read your palm. Your distaste for me and what I do is obvious and I don't make it a habit to force the unwilling." She grimaced. "Or the non-believers."
Though she spoke quietly, he listened carefully to every word.
Isabel would be displeased should he not go through with this reading. She had insisted on a palm reader as early as last year. Someone less expensive than a therapist, to whom he could open up to. It wasn't the first time he thought her too observant for her own good.
"Your second option is allowing me to read your palm. It's a harmless procedure that puts my safety at risk much more than it does yours. Not everyone is as accepting of having their secrets spoken out loud."
"You have been that successful?"
The look she shot him made him wish he hadn't asked.
"Successful." She tasted the word on her tongue. Abruptly, her head snapped to the side, causing a crack to emit from her neck. She repeated the gesture in the opposite direction, releasing a soft sigh after the second crack.
"Can you believe it, Joss?" she murmured, staring at the frog. "We've met a creature who judges your worth based on how successful you are at what you do."
"That is not what I-."
Joss released a disgruntled ribbit before shaking his green head and hopping over to sit in the open space between Yuvi's arms.
"Option three," she continued. "We find a mutually interesting topic and discuss it until your time is up."
Her eyes landed on him.
"So, Mr. Godric, what will it be?"
Godric couldn't figure out if he was more intrigued or frustrated by the options. Two of the three implied he wouldn't allow his palm to be read, and while initially, he hadn't been receptive to the idea, now, his curiosity was brimming. Yuvi proved too interesting of a person not to have some sort of perspective quality to her. Already, she had called him out on his own contempt and barely concealed prejudice.
Perhaps Isabel had been correct. He could gain something from this.
Similarly, she had yet to mention how the session would be paid for or what was to be promised to her in exchange for her services. He could always tell where someone's heart lay on the premise of how soon they asked for payment. Money, it appeared, wasn't an immediate concern.
Satisfied with this reasoning, Godric lowered his wrists to the table.
"Excellent."
She worked on evening out her breathing, eyes fluttering shut. He took this time to analyze the freckles forming a bridge overtop the base of her nose. She couldn't have been older than 25, and yet, there was a wisdom to her that could easily be excused for an archaic sort of madness, reminiscent of high priests skilled in the craft of magic. He imagined she actually was a bit mad. More surprising was his acceptance of this. Unstable supernatural creatures almost always tended to be a danger to the community. He had killed quite a few in his time as sheriff.
However, the thought of harming Yuvi, regardless of her unpredictability...he did not care for the idea whatsoever.
Blinking, he re-examined his environment. During his contemplation, he had missed the puffs of smoke spitting out of the burning incense; thickening the atmosphere and secluding them both in a gas fortress. The octagon table, once too large to be considered intimate seating, was now the size of a coffee table. His hands, in fact, were mere inches from Yuvi's.
He wanted to ask if the incense also served as a hallucinogen, but judging by the concentration on Yuvi's face, he figured he would not be receiving a lengthy response.
"May I see your palm?"
Godric obligingly raised his left hand, studying her movements closely. Without opening her eyes, Yuvi gently encased it with both of her own. Her fingernails found the grooved indents meandering across his palm. She traced the crevices with a skillfulness that made his fangs ache.
Not necessarily for blood.
Embarrassed by the reaction, he attempted to focus on something else.
A hum developed from deep in her throat.
He watched on, intrigued.
For a couple of minutes, she did nothing more than play with his hands. He hadn't realized how much sensitivity you could coax out and half the trouble was convincing his fangs to behave. They wished to scrape across her fingers with the same delicateness she showed him.
But, he held steady. The responsiveness he guessed, was due to how long it'd been since someone was that placid with him. Physical contact wasn't something he sought out very often. Not since his days of traveling with Eric.
"Hm."
Yuvi opened her eyes and peered down at Joss. She had stopped playing with his fingers, instead, holding them in a sturdy grip.
Finally, she looked at him. As gingerly as possible, she eased her hands out of his own.
He missed the warmth immediately.
"How long have you been wanting to kill yourself?"
She presented the question as if she were inquiring about the weather.
"I-."
He closed his mouth, dumbstruck. When he could finally speak again, it came out far less confidently than he wished.
"Option three."
She didn't understand right away.
"Option three," Godric repeated, resting his hands atop his knees. "You may choose the conversation topic."
He pretended not to notice the concern shining in her eyes.
Inhaling, Yuvi nodded. She slumped back into the chair. One hand plucked the glasses off her face and set them down on the table. The other hand rubbed the bridge of her nose.
"Okay, Mr. Godric." She exhaled before looking at him. "What's everything you ever wanted to know about pixies, but were too afraid to ask?"
Despite the profound evaluation moments earlier, Godric relaxed at the question.
"Embarrassingly enough, very little. Please, educate me."
A grin crept over her face. "You'll regret telling me that."
X_x_X_x_X_x_X
"That wasn't so bad, was it?"
He could feel Isabel's gaze on him. He wouldn't be free of it lest he answered.
"No, it was not."
She turned her attention back to the road, fingers loosening around the steering wheel.
"I'm glad you stuck with it. She is incredible, is she not?"
"Yes," Godric agreed, lost in thought. "Has a client ever harmed her?"
"For telling the truth? I think so."
He turned to her. "What were the circumstances?"
"Well, it is purely speculation. I've never actually asked. It would be rude too." She glanced at him, expression somber. "Some years ago, she read the palm of a werewolf. Personally, I don't think she should offer her services to them. They're crazed. Wild. Uncivilized."
She fell silent, thumb tapping against the steering wheel.
"The werewolf attacked her after the reading. She nearly bled to death."
"I see." He returned his gaze to the window. "And the werewolf?"
"Escaped. I've been told she still has the claw marks from the attack. For obvious reasons, I haven't asked about it."
He ignored the darker, less rational side of him entertaining the thought of hunting down the were and ripping out his throat.
"How much did you pay for my reading?"
Isabel's chuckle broke the tense atmosphere between them. "Not a thing. Yuvi takes payment in the form of honey."
"Honey?"
"The pixies outside her cottage," she explained. "They love honey. Yuvi tells me they go through a liter of it a week. I stopped by a few nights ago with a jar of it. You don't have to, but she says every little bit helps. They get chaotic without it."
"I am not as familiar with honey," he admitted. "It wasn't something I had the pleasure of tasting in my human life. Was Yuvi satisfied with the jar you gave her?"
"I thought she was going to break me in half with her hug."
They were silent for a moment. Isabel risked a peek at him.
"I'll text you the address of the place I picked it up."
Godric wrestled down his smile. "Thank you, Isabel."
So, this was written without the intention of there being a sequel. Plot bunny hit and all that jazz. If you liked it as is, lovely. If you'd like more to be written, I'll definitely consider it. I quite like writing Godric and Yuvi. Honestly, I just needed to get this out before I exploded.