Nadia had only been to Godfrey Manor twice in her life and she never would have predicted that she would one day be sitting in its spacious living room with her estranged grandmother.
Although the home where her father had grown up remained one of the largest and most luxurious in town they had never lived there and she had realized from a young age that he was not fond of the place. It had been closed up for years, visited only by the maintenance crews her dad paid to make sure that it didn't fall to pieces. Nadia had sometimes wondered why he bothered with the upkeep at all—any time she had asked about the house he tensed up and she assumed that it brought up too many bad memories. She supposed it made sense. His father had died there, after all and, from the way he spoke about his childhood, she figured that it had not been a happy one.
Roman rarely disclosed any details, and Nadia had never really known what had tainted his memories so badly. But the fact that he and Aunt Shelly rarely spoke about their mother gave her some indication.
Nadia had seen a handful of pictures of Olivia Godfrey before, and she'd always struck her as an imposing figure. Amazingly tall and statuesque, but with a certain coldness in her eyes that could make a chill run down your spine.
But, now that she had finally met the women, she could not help but wonder if the unpleasant images she had always accepted were simply a concoction of her imagination.
Yes, the woman was tall and striking, but she had saved her from those horrible men on the street and had offered the sort of warmth and comfort that one would expect of a grandmother. It made her wonder why her father had denounced her so completely.
Granted, much of the last hour had been a bit of a blur.
After stumbling away from her attackers, Nadia had fallen into her grandmother's arms and had watched with awe and confusion as Olivia had looked both in the eye and told them to leave town and never return.
The men had seemed shocked as their feet began to carry them away, seemingly against their wills.
It had been very bizarre, and Nadia probably would have thought more of it if she hadn't been in such a state of shock. She'd never been the victim of such a terrifying and violent harassment before and her head had still been throbbing from the pain brought about by her strange nosebleed.
She had been all too happy to let her grandmother comfort her—she may not have known the woman, but she did know who she was and any sense of familiarity came as a huge comfort after her ordeal.
Still feeling dazed, she had agreed to let Olivia take her back to the manor to get cleaned up.
"You probably know that your father and I aren't on the best of terms." The older woman had explained. "I don't think he'd appreciate me showing up on his doorstep—why don't we get you fixed up at the manor first? Then we can call him to come pick you up."
It had seemed like a logical plan. Godfrey Manor was just down the road, and she did want to wipe the blood off of her face and regain her composure before she saw her dad. She wasn't going to lie to him about what had happened, but if he saw her like this, she wasn't sure if he'd ever agree to let her out of his sight again.
Plus, Nadia had reasoned as she'd followed Olivia towards her white car, this would be a precious opportunity to get to know her grandmother a bit. It had turned into a pretty terrible night, but perhaps this could be the silver lining.
So that was how she had come to find herself sitting on an elegant antique couch in the dusty mansion she had very few memories of.
As she sat, waiting for her grandmother to return from the kitchen, she could not help but note how different this place was from the house she had grown up in. Her dad had designed their home himself—it was so completely modern, with its top of the line stainless steel fixtures, angular furniture and priceless pieces of modern art. This place, however, felt like something from another century. A huge collection of (probably priceless antiques), ornate wooden carvings and imposing family portraits leering down from the papered walls…
She wondered if her dad had made their home the complete antithesis of the manor on purpose.
"I gave your father a call. There was no answer but I left a message letting him know where you are—hopefully he'll receive it soon."
Nadia turned towards her grandmother as she re-entered the room, a tray of tea and snacks in hand. The woman offered her a comforting smile before placing the tray down and seating herself on a nearby chair.
"In the meantime, I thought you might be a bit hungry or thirsty, so I did my best to prepare a treat for us to enjoy while we catch up."
Nadia smiled back. She could not say that she felt entirely at ease in the presence of what was, basically, a stranger, but she did know that she was much safer than she had been before and she could not deny that she was eager to get to know Olivia. They had talked a bit on their way up to the manor, and she now knew that the woman had spent much of the last fifteen years in Europe, but there was so much more that she wanted to ask.
Her father had always been so full of secrets, so tight lipped about his past—maybe this was her chance to finally get to know a bit more about where he had come from.
As if reading her thoughts, Olivia reached out and placed a comforting hand on her arm. "I'm sure you must have all sorts of questions, darling." She began, sadness evident in her voice. "Please, feel free to ask me anything you'd like. I have dreamt of our reunion for so many years and I am so sorry that I could not be there for you sooner. It was not from lac of desire, I assure you."
With a nod, Nadia decided that she was comfortable enough to ask the question that had weighed most heavily on her mind for years.
She had always known that her grandmother was alive, but she had been given almost no information about her and had never really known why she was not part of her life.
"Okay then," the girl began before reaching for one of the teacups and taking a much needed sip of the warm liquid. "I guess the most obvious question is—why did you leave? Dad doesn't talk about you, so I always assumed something bad must have happened. But what was it?"
Olivia leaned back in her seat, her brown eyes flittering towards the floor. "That is a very complicated question, I am afraid." She began, letting out a small sigh. "The short answer is, your father told me to go. He said he never wanted to see me again. He felt I had betrayed him and Shelly."
The older woman drew a deep breath and she looked away, as if remembering something very distant and painful.
Although she still had no idea what had happened, Nadia felt a sudden pang of sympathy. She loved her father dearly, of course—he and Peter were the most important people in her life. But it was no secret that he could be harsh on the rare occasions when he lost his temper. She'd seen it happen a handful of times when he was stressed out at the office.
But cutting his own mother out of his life had always struck her as rather extreme, and there was no denying that it must have been difficult on Olivia.
"He never gave me a chance to explain," the dark haired woman continued, her voice thick with emotion. "Roman can be so difficult to reason with when he is in a state. I suppose I should take some of the blame for that—I always spoiled him and let him get his way. He had trouble dealing with things when they did not go how he wanted."
Nadia took another sip of tea. That was not quite the father she knew, but she supposed he may have been different in his younger days. He'd grown up with every material thing he could have wanted and Nadia knew that could easily lead to certain character traits. Thankfully, it seemed he had grown out of that phase.
"As much as it pained me, I wanted to respect his wishes" Olivia continued. "I figured that, if I left for a little while, he might cool down and listen to reason. But any time I tried to reach out during the years, I was immediately disappointed." She paused for a moment, and pulled an elegant lace handkerchief from her pocket to dab her reddening eyes. "No matter how far apart we were driven, you and your father have always remained so incredibly precious to me. He was the child I had always dreamt of, and you were such a special gift. I wish he would give me a chance to explain that. I know I've made my mistakes, but I've only ever wanted the best for all of us. You're the only family I have left and I love you both so very much. I never stopped thinking about you. Not for a second."
Nadia found herself nodding as her grandmother spoke. She had only known the woman for a very short time, but her words and emotions seemed earnest that she could not help but feel for her.
This woman had spent so many years alone, cut off from those she had loved.
Nadia hated the thought of it, no matter what she had done.
Nothing could have been bad enough to elicit this.
"Dad isn't like that anymore." She stated, hoping to offer a glimmer of hope. "Uncle Peter says he used to be way more hot-headed. Maybe when he gets here, we can talk to him together. Start making amends."
Her grandmother gave a sad smile. "You are very sweet." She observed, brushing a stray lock of blonde hair behind her ear. "Just as beautiful as your father was at your age, but with a far gentler spirit."
Nadia shrugged, not quite sure how to respond.
"I doubt it will be that simple." Olivia continued with a deep sigh, "Although I am happy to try anything at this point. I realized recently that I simply couldn't stay away from you any longer—either of you. I decided to take the risk and come back, even if just for a little bit. But if I can stay here, if I can guide you, that would make me unbelievably happy."
The woman leaned back in her chair once more, her arm draped elegantly against the side.
For a moment, Nadia was struck by how amazingly picturesque she looked in the darkened living room. She looked far too young to be a grandmother, and her angular features and lean body were enhanced by her elegant white dress and jewels.
She almost didn't seem real, and Nadia probably would have wondered if she was a figment of her imagination if she had not been struck by her father in the same way at times.
Sometimes, when he lowered his facade, Roman could appear just as statuesque.
Just as superhuman.
"I imagine this must be a confusing time for you." Olivia stated, her eyes flittering towards the tray of tea and snacks she had prepared. "I wasn't sure how prepared your father was to guide you through this period, and I am glad that we have been given this opportunity to talk."
The woman paused and leaned forward towards the table. She lifted the silver lid that had been encasing one of the plates to reveal several strips of raw steak before returning to her previous position.
Nadia's brow immediately furrowed in confusion. This was certainly not a usual tea-time snack and she wondered how her grandmother possibly could have known about her freakishly unhealthy habit.
For the first time since her arrival at the manor, Nadia's heart began to pound rapidly in her chest.
"There is no need to look so concerned, my dear. You don't need to keep up pretenses around me."
The girl opened and closed her mouth wordlessly, unsure of what to say. She had no idea what was going on. And she was suddenly very tempted by the alluring smell of the meat on the table.
Her stomach rumbled uncomfortably and her heart continued to pound.
For a moment, there was silence and she could feel her grandmother's eyes examining her.
"Oh dear…don't tell me he hasn't told you." The older woman brought a hand to her mouth, her eyes suddenly wide with surprise. "Nothing? Nothing at all?"
Nadia had no idea what she was on about, so she shook her head. "Told me what?" she asked, her voice much quieter than before.
A second later, her grandmother was beside her on the couch, her long arm wrapped comfortingly around her shoulders. "Oh my darling, I am so sorry. I knew Roman did not take proper pride in his lineage, but I never imagined he would keep the truth from his own daughter. This is…simply deplorable."
The girl did not pull away from her embrace, but she could not ignore the well of confusion and trepidation growing inside of her.
Her grandmother wasn't making any sense, and she could not for the life of her guess what any of this had to do with her affinity for raw meat.
Did they all have some sort of genetic iron deficiency? Why was that such a big secret?
"I feel as if this should be a family discussion." The older woman began again, running a comforting hand through her hair. "It really should come from your father—it isn't my place. Here…"
Olivia picked up the plate of meat and brought it towards them.
"I am sorry for all of the confusion, I had no idea that you had been kept in the dark. Your father should be here soon and we can discuss everything together, I promise."
Nadia's head was still spinning, but the smell of the meat had suddenly provided a welcomed distraction. It was mere inches from her nose now, and she had been hungry all day.
Maybe things would make more sense on a full stomach…
"Please, Nadia, don't deny yourself. Never deny yourself." Her grandmother's silky voice cooed. "Never be ashamed of what we are."
She watched as Olivia daintily picked up one of the strips of steak and dropped it into her own mouth. She chewed it elegantly, with a grateful smile on her face.
Unable to resist any longer, Nadia followed suit—albeit far less gracefully than the older woman. Suddenly starving, she grabbed two and greedily devoured them, not caring that their juices were dripping down her chin.
"That's a good girl." Olivia said softly, still holding her close.
Still not full, Nadia was about to reach for more when a sudden bang and the sound of hurried footsteps broke her from her hungry trance.
She heard someone shout her name and, seconds later, she saw her father and Peter rush into the room, both looking extremely panicked.
"Ah, just on time, Roman darling." Olivia said with a smile.
"Get the fuck away from my daughter." Her father replied.
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Roman stood in the doorway to his childhood living room, his mind spinning with a dangerous mixture of hatred and fear.
He and Peter had been enjoying a relaxing, romantic, evening when they had noticed his phone buzzing in the pocket of his discarded jeans. It appeared to be a missed call from Nadia, but when he had listened to the voice mail, his blood had instantly run cold.
Although the call was from Nadia's phone, it had not been his daughter on the other end.
It had been Olivia.
"Nadia had a bit of an unpleasant confrontation tonight," she had said in her calm, silky voice. "She is back at the manor with me, now. It would be lovely if you could come join us for a little family chat. I think it is long overdue."
Roman, of course, was not fooled by her friendly pretenses. His mother was not supposed to be in town and, if she was, there was no doubt in his mind that she was up to no good.
The fact that she had managed to made contact with Nadia filled him with instant panic. There was no telling what she would do or say to her before he managed to get there. The mere thought of her conversing with his daughter made him sick.
So they had rushed over as fast as they could, not caring about speed limits or personal safety.
The only thought on his mind was rescuing Nadia from Olivia's clutches, and he knew that Peter felt the same.
No good could come of this.
He only hoped that he wasn't already too late…
Perhaps it had been a bit dramatic, but he had used his upir strength to knock down the front door and they had run towards the only room in the house that seemed to be lit.
Thankfully, Nadia had been there.
But while she looked generally unharmed, he was not pleased to see Olivia's arm wrapped around her protectively, as if she had some claim over the girl.
He surveyed the room frantically as he attempted to catch his breath—and his heart sank as his gaze fell upon the plate of uncooked meat on the table…and the remains of something red dripping down the sides Nadia's face.
No, no, no, no, no…
Not his baby girl.
Not so soon.
The sight made him want to vomit.
"Ah, just on time, Roman darling." Olivia said with a sickeningly sweet smile. There was no doubt in his mind that she was trying to win Nadia over with her patented "good mother" act.
It was all bullshit, and he wished that he'd had the foresight to warn Nadia about her.
It had been naive, he supposed, but he had truly thought he had rid the town of her for good.
He had been a fool.
He should have known that no one, not even him, could keep Olivia from getting what she wanted.
"Get the fuck away from my daughter." He replied, his body pulsing with rage.
If Nadia had not been in the room, he would have said something much worse—and he probably wouldn't have been able to stop himself from tearing his mother's throat out. He had to admit, the woman had played her cards right. She had probably known that Roman would not hurt her or display his true nature in front of his daughter, and was cleverly using Nadia as a human shield.
He had to get Nadia out of there before he could deal with her properly.
"Nadia, I don't know what she's told you, but she is a dangerous woman. You need to get away from her." Roman did not want to aggravate the situation by moving towards them, but he slowly reached his hand out towards his daughter, hoping that she would be convinced by his words.
Nadia hesitated for a second, wiping her chin as she looked back and forth between her father and grandmother.
"She isn't dangerous, dad." The girl replied, her brow furrowed in confusion. "She's family, and she just wants to talk. She says she's sorry about whatever happened in the past, and she wants to make amends, she—"
"Nadia, she can't be trusted." Roman cut in, his stomach twisting uncomfortably as he listened to his daughter's words. Clearly, Olivia had put on another of her Oscar-worthy performances.
"He's right." Peter agreed, attempting to offer some support. "You can't trust a word she says."
Roman couldn't really blame Nadia for wanting to hear her out—the girl had always wanted to know more of her family, and it had pained him to deny her that. But she had no idea who, or what, she was really dealing with.
It was partially his fault that it had come to this.
"Nadia, please." He tried again, taking a cautious step towards them. "Come with me. We can talk about things at home. We need to get out of here."
For a second, he thought he had made a breakthrough. Nadia rose from her seat—but, instead of coming over to his side of the room, she threw up her arms in frustration and backed further away.
"Talk?" She began, the anger apparent in her voice. "Since when do any of us actually talk?"
Roman froze, not sure how to respond to this unexpected tirade.
"I love you, dad, but I'm tired of being treated like a little kid. I don't need you to protect me all the time. You're always telling me not to ask questions. I feel like I don't know anything—you never tell me anything about your past, anything about your family, anything about my mother! You shut down every time I want to discuss something, and now, you won't even sit down and talk things over with your own mother—who, apparently, is 'dangerous and untrustworthy' for reasons that you probably aren't willing to disclose."
"Nadia, I…I—" Roman stuttered, unable to gather his thoughts. She was right, of course—he had never shared much and often avoided her questions. But he had no idea that she felt this way.
But, as much as it pained him to see her welling with anger, he wasn't sure that he would have done anything differently—or if he could change now.
He'd rather have her angry at him than know the awful truth.
She deserved a normal life, she didn't deserve his curse, he couldn't take that away from her.
"Nadia, I have my reasons. You have to trust me. I've only ever wanted what's best for you."
As he spoke, Olivia let out a small scoff. His eyes snapped towards his mother, his sadness once again overcome with anger.
"You think this is what's best for her?" The woman asked, raising one perfectly manicured eyebrow. "Hiding the truth from her? Denying her heritage? Letting her suffer in confusion as the changes take hold?"
Roman felt the rage bubbling inside of him. He could hardly believe the hypocrisy of her words, and took two big strides towards her, no longer caring if his stance appeared aggressive.
"How dare you spew that bullshit, Olivia." He spat. "You know what you did to me. How you lied and manipulated me. You have no right to tell me how to raise my daughter after what you did."
"I'm sorry, darling—I assumed that you would have learned from my mistakes. You know that I regretted keeping the truth from you, and I was so sorry that it angered you. I thought you would be excited—proud."
Her voice was calm and soothing, as always. But Roman was not swayed. "Bullshit!" He replied, doing his best to tower over her with his few extra inches. "I have shielded her from things that she doesn't have to know, because I am never going to let her become what you are."
"What we are, Roman." Olivia shot back, knowing exactly how to push his buttons. "God, how many times do I have to say it before you'll accept it. It is getting tiresome."
"She will not be burdened with your curse." He replied, his green eyes deadly and piercing.
Much to his disgust, his mother gave a lighthearted laugh. "She was born with the caul. You can't fight destiny." She said, waving a hand carelessly. "It is only a matter of time."
Roman opened his mouth to respond but, before he did, the sound of another voice reminded him that they were not alone in the room.
"What the hell are you talking about?"
It was Nadia. At some point during the verbal sparring she had backed all the way into the corner and was watching her father and grandmother with a mixture of confusion and worry in her eyes.
"Secrets? Truth? Changes?" She pressed, looking towards him with an expression that made him want to protect her from all of the evils in the world. "Someone, please, tell me what is going on!"
Unfortunately, Olivia spoke first. "That is exactly what I want too, darling." She said, plastering on a comforting smile. "I think it is time that your father stopped hiding things from you. You deserve to know."
Before Roman had a chance to respond, his mother snapped her head towards him and her brown eyes locked with his green.
"Show her what we are, Roman." She said, her voice commanding and clear. "Show her what you are."
For a second, Roman wasn't sure what was happening. He had not been around another upir in nearly two decades, and it took him a moment to recognize the strange feeling that suddenly washed over him.
But all too soon, he realized what Olivia had done.
He managed to gasp out a raspy "no" before he stumbled back and clasped his hand over his mouth.
His heart raced in panic as he felt his razor-sharp fangs descend.
He couldn't will them away.
He couldn't hide anymore...
The hunger that was always with him instantly intensified and, against his will, he snapped his attention towards the most human smelling person in the room.
"Peter, run. Out." He gasped, thankful that his back was now towards his daughter.
She didn't need to see him like this.
She couldn't.
"Dad? What's happening, are you okay?"
He needed to get out.
Roman was vaguely aware that Peter had listened to his desperate command and he regained a slight bit of composure now that the scent of fresh human blood had gotten further away.
Unfortunately, this little bit of control was not enough.
"Show her."
His mother's sickening voice echoed through his head. It took all of his strength not to turn around.
"Show her."
He heard Olivia approach, and his heightened sense of smell told him that she had not come empty handed.
His head pounded and his stomach roared as he smelt the thing his monstrous body desired most.
"You're beautiful, Roman." His mother whispered, leaning close until he felt her breath on his neck. "Don't be ashamed."
She held out a crystal goblet of red liquid and the world around him fell out of focus. His mind cleared of all thoughts but one.
Turning abruptly, he grabbed the glass and downed every last drop of gloriously sweet blood. For a moment, there was nothing but pure bliss. The liquid was warm, and it filled him with immense pleasure as it slid down his throat.
Finally satisfied, the upir's head lolled back and his eyes slid closed ecstasy.
"…dad?"
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A/N—please tell me what you think! I hope that was enjoyable!
