Part VII

"You can't be serious," I chuckle, waiting for a sign of deception…there were none.

Confusion- was not a strong enough word to describe the way I feel at this moment. Although I should have been, I wasn't afraid of him, which made me feel terribly foolish. I mean look at me, I in a basement, naked as the day I was born, in a tub, completely vulnerable to a total stranger. On the upside, this basement is nicer than any home I've ever been in, the tub is a very nice warm and bubbly one, and the stranger, although strange, he has been nothing but kind to me.

But who am I kidding, this is not right…I've obviously suffered some brain damage?

Funny thing is, I'm looking at myself in the mirror and besides my dirty, blood-soaked hair, I look damn good for a gal who just got tossed around like a cow in a tornado. I look at my reflection and up at him sheepishly, not quite knowing what to say.

"Aren't you wondering why you have no injuries, why you are alive, but not breathing?"

"Not breathing…" I heard everything he said, but the one thing, in particular, caught my attention. I didn't even realize it, I placed my hand on my chest and he watched me as my puzzled expression changed to horror.

"You do not require air nor warmth, they are merely a comfort, not a necessity. You feel pain however your endurance is unmatched by human standards. Your nature is to hunt, to feed on flesh and blood and you shall remain youthful and beautiful for all eternity."

"Is there anything that we creatures of the night can't do?" I let my eyes roll; my skepticism seeped from my voice and I noted a look of annoyance cross his porcelain face.

"Blood starvation, fire, silver, and sunlight are tortuous and barbaric ways to die. Decapitation and the complete piercing to the heart is a quick and merciful way to true death." He paused for a moment, staring off in a faraway place before he came back, "So yes, there are many things vampires cannot do."

I knew then and there, he is totally serious, he really believes he is a vampire. I'm in the company of a madman and I don't even know how I got here or how to escape. Instantly panic set in. My heart should have been racing, pounding, ready to burst out of my chest after hearing something so crazy. Yet I felt nothing, like the void I was in, my chest felt empty, I felt all over, desperately searching for a pulse; but there was none.

He peered at me attentively with his deep- liquid blue eyes. They held such intelligence and serenity that it was impossible for me not to be held prisoner by them. His cheekbones weren't especially high and his nose was a little too wide to be perfect, but there was an undeniable symmetry to his features and perhaps that's what held me so captivated.

"This can't be real," I said closing my eyes in denial and sliding my body into the bottom of the tub submerging myself in the water, hiding behind the surface of bubbles. I exhale and watch the air bubbles rising to the surface. Now for the real test... I held my breath...and held it...and held it...I don't feel the need to take a breath, but I do so anyway.

I gasped in shock, I can't quite believe it, but here I am underwater, breathing, gasping and not a drop of water is penetrating. I am not chocking, suffocating or drowning. My parameters for what constitutes as frightening have grown exponentially and the night began to register.

I rise above the surface to a very annoyed looking Godric.

"Are you convinced yet or do you require more proof?"

"More proof," I said reaching for the plug to let out the water in the tub.

I felt a light gust blow about the room, from the corner of my eyes I see a blur moving rapidly toward the door. Next, I heard the door shut and Godric was gone.

I didn't have time to figure out what just happened; instead, I seized the opportunity. I jump out of the tub onto the plush rug, dashing across the room to the neatly folded towels and wrapped one around me; I used another to dry my hair. Not a moment later Godric was back, with my bag in one hand and some neatly folded clothes in the other. No longer dressed in the linen trousers and tunic; somehow, he has completely changed his attire. He smelled incredible and he looked even better.

"Thank you," He handed me my backpack and I placed it on the vanity, he placed some other garments next to my bag. I pulled out my brush and began to work on my hair; first applying a generous amount of leave-in conditioner while brushing in short even strokes until the tangles were at bay. Godric's attentive eyes never faltered.

"Once you are finished dressing, I believe I have the proof you seek."

A secret buzz shot excitement through me at the notion and I moved a little faster. He smiled at me and became a blur disappearing out of the room. The way he moved was unnatural, there was no denying what I just saw.

I pulled my hair into a high bun securing it with a Scunci. I put on some deodorant, lotion my arms and legs and made up my face with the little make-up I had. I frowned at the remaining contents inside my bag. All I have is Eric's LSU jacket, my old Bon Temps t-shirt, 5 pairs of clean socks and panties, 2 bras', jeans that have seen better days, and a brand-new pair of $1 store flip-flops.

Godric, dressed in a tailor-made suit, obviously wanted to go out and I hardly have the attire for it, so I entertained myself and investigated the garments left for me. I pulled the garment and held it next to me. It's a black elegant romper, the woven-poly material sweeps across a one-shoulder bodice, with princess seams, into a pleated waistline, high-waisted pants with long wide relaxed legs and hidden side zipper on the side. The jumpsuit fits me well and I was able to complement the outfit with my large red enamel hoop earrings. I put on a little more mascara and lip gloss; I wished I had some dressy sandals that complimented my outfit, but I had no choice and I slipped on my black dollar-mart flip-flops.

Once we left the house, I'd find a way to make my escape, for now, I better just play along…with whatever this is that's going on.

Godric was waiting for me at the furthest end of the vast lower-level room. With his arms folded he peered at a large sword held by a mount made of elk horns.

"The ancestral great-sword of a Viking King, only members of the cavalry could afford to own and maintain a sword of this magnificence." He said with a warm nostalgic smile," It was an honor to be gifted with such an heirloom."

The very old sword appeared to be steel, perhaps brushed nickel double-edged; both edges of the blade are sharp, the hilt had a pommel and an upper guard, the two were formed as a single piece.

"Will you remove the sword from its resting place?" He asked me, his expression remain stoic, which bothered me.

I looked at him and then the sword, my mind was telling me not to touch it. For some reason, I felt like it was a ruse. I pictured a trap door opening beneath my feet into a deep hole in the ground from which there is no escape.

"Why do you want me to do that?"

"You said you required more proof." He said flatly, "Touching the sword will be all the proof that you need beautiful one," his cerulean eyes slowly roamed my form from head to toe appreciatively and I felt my cheeks warm.

"Fine," I said as I reached for the swords handle, I felt a hot searing sensation and it took a moment to register that it was my hand! I screamed at the biting pain and the rank smell of my burning flesh. The sight was even worse. I cried in horror at my bubbling blistering palm.

"The sword was dipped in silver before given to me as a gift… I must say, Bjorn had a wicked sense of humor." He smirked, "Would you like more proof?"