Chapter 3
Her scream lasted three seconds before a weight sent her sailing backwards into a wall. To say the breath had been knocked out of her would be an understatement.
Above her, Godric loomed impassively, the palm of his hand pressed tightly against her mouth. His other hand rested beside her head, effectively keeping her cornered against the wall.
"Was the screaming necessary?" came his low murmur.
Francine attempted a not so kind response, but her words were smothered beneath his cool flesh.
Godric hid his smile. "Point taken."
He inched closer to her. She instantly dug back into the wall, ignoring the frantic race of her heart.
"I am going to remove my hand. If you attempt to scream again, I will not be so kind. Do you understand?"
Her eyes widened.
Godric held back a sigh. Her fear was emanating off her like roadkill beneath a sweltering sun. It was evident he had not yet earned her trust.
"I will never harm you," he repeated, recognizing he needed to be patient with her distrust if he ever planned on reversing it. "However, I cannot promise this of the other Fellowship members."
Slowly, she nodded.
He maintained eye contact with her for a few seconds until her heart beat gradually slowed. Once the stench of fear receded, he lifted his hand off her mouth.
Francine immediately licked her lips. The vampire watched this action with a surprising amount of intensity, causing something foreign to bubble in her chest.
He says he's not gonna hurt me.
Doubt clouded this thought, but Francine pushed it back. It was like he'd said the last time they spoke. If he wanted her dead, she would be.
If I play along, I can probably get to the gun.
"I had hoped you would come to me," he admitted, retreating far enough to provide her with some much needed breathing room. "I underestimated your fear of me."
"I ain't afraid of you," she bit back.
"Why did you scream?"
She closed her mouth reluctantly. He had her there.
"Can I at least put on a shirt?"
His eyes slid down to her chest before abruptly averting his gaze.
"Of course."
With as much composure as she could muster, Francine sought out her plaid button up discarded on the bed. That Godric actually allowed her privacy instilled mixed feelings in her. Surely he had to know she was gonna go for-
"If you attempt to grab the gun under your bed, the shirt will remain off."
She twirled around, jaw clenched.
"How the hell you plan to enforce that?"
He kept his back to her, eyes focused ahead.
"Grab your weapon and you will find out."
Gritting her teeth, Francine stalked the rest of the way to the bed. Begrudgingly, she picked up her shirt and slipped it on.
"Are you decent?"
"As I'll ever be," she grumbled.
He turned to her, clasping his hands behind him.
In return, Francine crossed her arms.
Strangely, she wasn't entirely afraid. Not as much as she'd been when he'd held her against the wall. Granted, this was far from an ideal situation. She still wasn't fully convinced he wasn't gonna snap out of his politeness and bleed her dry.
But her continued existence, especially when she'd nearly alerted the entire church of his presence, spoke louder than she could tune out.
"What do you want?"
"Why have you not returned to speak with me?"
"Why would I?" she retorted. "I ain't got a death wish."
"How many times must I tell you I have no desire to do you harm?"
She scoffed, shaking her head.
"So you keep sayin'."
"How can I prove to you my intentions?"
She scanned his face with the slightest bit of unease. He appeared extremely genuine.
"You can't."
Godric approached her with measured steps. Francine forced herself not to retreat. Without the safety of her gun, it was a struggle to appear poised and unafraid.
"Would you like to know why I allowed the Fellowship to take me?"
Surprised by the redirection of the conversation, Francine shrugged.
"I don't care."
"You don't?" His brows rose. "You seemed to care a great deal in the basement."
"No I didn't."
"You did."
"Nope."
He tilted his head. "You get enjoyment from testing my restraint."
Francine debated on how to respond. He wasn't entirely wrong.
"I'd enjoy it more if you returned to the basement."
"And rob me the pleasure of your company? You wouldn't be so cruel."
His lazy smile made her realize he was making fun of her.
"You're so lucky I don't have my gun."
"I'm well aware," came his response, one hand absently drifting down to his abdomen.
He paused in his approach towards her. When he failed to say anything further, instead, gazing at her without blinking, she shuffled in place.
"What?"
"I..."He trailed off, searching for the right words. "I am sorry about the suffering inflicted upon your cousin. Had her daughter's murder occurred under my jurisdiction, rest assured I would not have allowed the vampire responsible to live. Children, no matter the circumstance, are innocents."
Francine stared at him, failing to mask her shock.
"How the hell do you know about Joanna?"
"I sought to understand the root of your hate after our last meeting," he answered. "My progeny did further research on your cousin. Though your dislike of me is inconvenient, I cannot blame you for it. Or your cousin's, for that matter. Losing a child is not something I would wish upon anyone."
Rather than placate her, Godric's admission reawoke Francine's anger.
"Like you give a damn!" She edged forward. "All vampires are the same. Y'all tell us you wanna co-exist, but you have no problem hurtin' a small child. She was eight! She didn't do a god damn thing!"
Her hands shook so violently she feared they'd never stop. A terrible, hot anger coursed through her veins.
"She was eight," Francine repeated with a tremble in her throat. "And the vampire didn't care. How...how could I ever believe you don't mean to hurt me when you could do something like that?"
Sucking in a deep breath, she twisted around. The back of her hand wiped at her eyes.
For a minute, all she could hear was the heavy beat of her heart. Repetitive. Consuming. Louder than it'd been in a long, long while.
Pull yourself together. He's gonna think you're pathetic.
This thought failed to inspire composure. She no longer cared what he thought.
"Francine."
Her knees nearly buckled from the softness in his voice.
Vampires shouldn't be able to sound like that.
Exhaling roughly, she turned to him.
"What?"
Godric's full concentration was on the carpet. His blank expression offered no explanation to his emotional state.
"Pick up your gun."
She frowned, not understanding the command at first.
"Why?"
When he didn't answer, Francine glanced at the bed.
Is this a trick?
His lack of action inspired her to sprint to the bed and crouch down. Only when her hand wrapped around the handle did she finally feel somewhat at ease.
Godric failed to react when she stood. He also failed to react when she aimed the weapon at him again.
"Why the sudden change of heart?" she couldn't help but ask.
Instead of answering, he began approaching her. Though Francine was tempted to shoot, at the last second, curiosity won out. It was like he'd done a full 180 in his attitude. Cautiously and against all logic, she wanted to know why.
The vampire paused directly in front of the shotgun. Calmly, he gripped the neck of the weapon and angled it up until the barrel was aimed directly at his heart.
Her eyes widened.
There's no way he's gonna-
"Shoot me."
His request was firm. He held her gaze without blinking once.
He's serious.
Frowning, she looked at the barrel. It was nestled tightly against his chest. His hands remained at his side.
"Why?"
She couldn't believe she was even asking. This was why she was here! To rid the world of a murderer.
Unfortunately, the irony wasn't lost on her that by pulling the trigger, she would become one herself.
"If killing me will ease your family's suffering, then I will allow you to do so."
Her finger stroked the trigger.
"Why?"
He finally blinked. "Vampires are not merciful by nature. If you were aware of my sins against your kind, you would have killed me the first chance you had. I am guilty. I know this."
He looked down at his hands, studying them for a brief moment before glancing up.
"This is justice."
She shook her head, frustrated.
"Why?" she pursued, ignoring the shaking in her hands. "Why do you care enough to let me do this?"
He tilted his head. "Does it matter?"
Francine held her breath, unable to answer.
She closed her eyes instead. Looking at him only amplified her confusion.
He's offering to die. This is what Laurie and I want.
Her stomach dropped.
This is what Laurie wants.
This revelation pained her to admit, and yet, in the same vein, it was oddly liberating.
Prior to Joanna's death, she hadn't hated vampires and neither had Laurie. They'd both planned on voting to pass the VRA.
After Joanna...
It'd been easy to hate all vampires. It'd been easy to hate, period. Such an easy emotion to lose yourself in. To block out all reasoning other than your own suffering. To be so convinced all vampires deserved the same fate.
With her shotgun pressed to Godric's chest, Francine realized something she'd been reluctant to: she was tired. Tired of being so mindlessly spiteful. Tired of being in such a hateful environment. Tired of convincing herself over and over again that all vampires deserved death for the actions of one. Tired, tired, tired.
And Godric-
She opened her eyes.
He doesn't deserve this. He hasn't provoked me. He hasn't tried to harm me. And until he does, I can't kill him. His fate is not mine to determine. It is God's.
Francine's arms dropped as if a weight sank them.
The surprise overtaking the vampire's face only reconfirmed her decision.
With a slow kneel, she placed the gun on the floor. The entire time, she could feel his eyes on her.
Breathing in shakily, she straightened in her spot.
"Godric?"
Her voice was quiet, almost shy. A first since encountering him.
He took a few seconds to answer. "Yes, Francine?"
"Please." Her hands rotated at her sides. She wasn't sure what to do with them. "Please, don't kill me."
Still partially stunned, Godric delicately placed a hand on her shoulder. Disregarding her trepidation, he kept his eyes locked onto hers.
"I promise to never harm you so long as I exist."
Timidly, she broke eye contact, momentarily dizzied by the heavy emotion resting there.
Her shoulders sagged, releasing all the pent up tension previously holding her hostage.
Unbeknownst to Francine, their exchange had been observed. With an expression vacant of all emotion, Laurie slowly retreated back into the hallway and walked away.
