Call On Me

Chapter 3:

Eric rose first; the darkness was silent around him; as if paying respects to this night. He sat on the ground; legs folded under him. His fingers crossed under his chin as he watched the pit. He had moved the earth away from Emily; so when she woke she wouldn't have to dig her way out. He knew how traumatic it could be to do that. He wanted this first night to be as good as possible for her. A call had already beem put in to Pam to meet them here. She had yet to arrive. Eric wanted very much to be the first one Emily saw.

While waiting, he read the note she had left with Godric. He knew now that she would forgive him. Still, he felt worry gnaw at his being. There were so many things that could go wrong. Perhaps she would refuse to feed; or she might fear her new nature. If only he knew what to expect; there was only so much he did know. And right now it wanted to be omnipotent and he wasn't.

Eric sensed the faintest of movements; the softest of sounds from the pit. He came to his feet; anxious to help. Emily opened her eyes; she lay still for a few seconds. Slowly she pushed herself up with her arms, sitting up. Dirt fell from her hair and face; she wiped her face with a slow motion. Blinking her eyes several times as if the night were too bright.

"It's so vivid," She said, "Like sunshine is burning the earth."

"It's your new sight." Eric spoke softly, her hearing would be sensitive. "In time you'll learn to appreciate it."

Her gaze focused on him; her face blank. They stared at one another for a long time. Emily finally stood up; Eric reached down and helped her climb out. She kept the blanket wrapped around her shoulders. The expression on her face worried him. He couldn't read it. He couldn't tell if she was upset or frightened.

Emily took a few slow, cautious steps on the earth. She stared at her bare feet, wiggled her toes. She jumped up and down a couple of times. She wiggled her toes again before crouching down and running a hand through the grass.

"It feels like spun silk," She whispered, rising to stand. "I can feel the warmth from the ground."

Eric nodded, silently watching.

She looked at him, "My limbs feel so powerful. Everything in me feels incredibly strong; like…it could last forever."

"You will live for ever." Eric whispered.

Emily crossed to him and studied his face. "You're worried about something."

Eric sighed, "I was afraid you would hate me." He held out the slip of paper, "Thank you for the note."

She looked at it before smiling at him, "I should be thanking you."

"Give it time, before you do that." He said carefully. In the distance he heard Pam's car arrive.

Emily turned her head, "What is that?"

"I asked for Pam to meet us."

Emily turned to see Pam coming towards them. She carried a large bag over one shoulder. Pam hesitated as she approached, her gaze steady on Emily. Silently, Pam stepped up to them, she bowed from the neck; a strangely formal move.

"Good evening, Emily." Pam straightened and glanced at Eric, "Eric."

"Pam," He nodded, "Did you bring what I asked?"

She nodded; and slid the bag off her shoulder she held it out to Emily. "Clothes; in case you wanted to change. There are more at the house; so you can change again if you want."

Emily paused before reaching for the bag; "Thank you, both of you." She hugged the bag to her chest.

"We will wait at the car," Eric said quietly, he leaned down and kissed the top of her head.

Pam and Eric walked the short distance to the car. Leaving Emily to change her clothes; the two of them were still close enough to hear her. If she tried to run they could catch her.

"How is she?" Pam asked softly, barely above a whisper.

"She seems fine." Eric muttered as he faced the car, arms resting on the roof. "She seems, accepting of it, calm even."

"Shock?"

He shrugged, "I am not sure."

Emily changed into the fresh blue jeans; they felt soft and velvety on her skin. She ran her hands over them; marveling at the texture of the material. It had never occurred to her to feel denim this way. It was as though her skin were alive and hyper-aware of everything. Removing the bloodstained white hospital shirt; she found a soft, warm black shirt in the bag. Pulling it on, she ran her hands over the soft fabric. That's when she noticed the firmness of her breasts. She frowned; they hadn't been that way before. Lifting the shirt she stared at them. They were firm, round and perfectly shaped. No more sagging. Lowering the shirt, she looked to her arms; the short sleeves on the shirt showed her pale flesh. The scars were gone. She ran her fingers along her forearms and wrists. Her skin was perfectly smooth.

Her whole entire body felt firm; as though she had worked-out in a gym. Her skin was firm, taunt with vitality. Her muscles sang with power; her blood zinged with life. She felt incredible. She felt strong, very, very strong. Smiling to herself she looked back in the bag and found a brush. Emily brushed out her hair; dirt crumbled to the ground. She would have to shower. Putting her old clothes in the bag; she slung it over her shoulder and headed to the car.

Eric turned as Emily approached. She looked happy as she reached the car. "Ready?"

She nodded, "Thank you for the clothes, Pam. I could use a shower, though."

"We're going to my house; you can use the shower there." He said as he opened the back passenger door. Emily climbed in and he closed it.

Pam whispered, "She hasn't expressed hunger, yet."

He nodded, "I am wondering about that too."

They drove to Eric's house; Emily was quiet the whole way. She stared out the window as the buildings passed by. The car stopped and Eric stepped out; he opened her door and she climbed out. He led her into the house and Pam drove away without a word.

Emily paused as she entered the large home. The soaring ceilings were dotted with unmoving fans. Skylights allowed moonlight and starlight to pour into the home. The walls were a pale color; not quite grey, but close to it. Dark wood floors were silent under her bare feet.

To either side of the entry were doors to other rooms. Eric led her down the hall that led back into the house. A large living room filled with antiques welcomed them. The large floor was covered in animal fur rugs. The walls were decorated with swords and shields; there was a large oil-on-canvas painting of a Viking ship at sea. The fjords of Norway were seen in the background. The attention to detail was exquisite; the artist had been painstakingly accurate and precise. It was clear this had been a labor of love; a true passion for the painter.

She studied it and smiled, "You painted this."

Eric silently nodded; he hung back as she walked around the large room. She studied the marble fireplace; ran her fingers over the bear-hide rug in front of it. She paused at the built-in bookshelves and looked over the books.

Emily turned to face him, "Why are you so worried, Eric?"

He pulled in a breath, "You have yet to express hunger. That is normally the first thing new vampires do."

She smiled at him, it was a touch sad. "I didn't want to seem pushy. You seem to be anxious about this. I was waiting for you to relax enough to speak to about it."

Eric shook his head as he laughed at himself. "I am not accustomed to others being thoughtful of me."

"Nor am I." She said honestly, crossing to him. "It seems we have to relearn this together."

He looked at her, reaching for her. His hand caressed her cheek; it was cool under his hand. "How can you be so calm about this?"

"Would you prefer is I was hysterical?" She asked simply.

"No," He shook his head, "I would not. I just wasn't expecting such placid behavior."

Emily surprised him by stepping into his arms and hugging him. "This is all I know how to be right now. Perhaps a shower will shake me out of it."

"Of course,"

Eric took her hand, leading her out of the living room. The two of them climbed a large, spiral staircase to the second floor. There were more oil paintings on these walls. These had the repeated image of a young boy in them. He seemed to be the focus of the works. Eric moved silently along the hall leading to a large room.

He opened the door and stepped aside, waving her in. Emily had never seen such a large bed. Perhaps the term double-king-sized would be accurate. Even that large bed looked small in this room. There were no windows; but there was lots of art. These pieces were themed around a time of celebration. People were painted to be dancing around large bonfires; women in brightly colored gowns smiled. Children were painted as happy and carefree. They were joyous paintings.

Emily turned around the room slowly; taking it all in. There was a large armoire against one wall. The wood was hand-carved with beautiful details. Emily could see the roses that had been cut into the rich, blood-colored wood. She could practically smell the wonderful floral scent, that's how detailed they were.

"You're new eyes, will show you a world you could not imagine before." Eric said gently from the doorway. "I asked Pam to find clothes in your sizes; they are in the armoire. Feel free to take your time. When you are finished, I will teach you how to feed." He moved to leave, closing the door.

"Eric,"

He paused, looking at her.

"I am not sure if the words thank you, are enough. But perhaps they are a good place to start?"

He nodded, "It's a good start."

Once the door was closed, he pulled in a deep breath, closing his eyes. Relief surged through him in heady waves. He pressed a hand against the door and whispered a prayer of thanks. Turning away, he walked along the hall, a smile touching his lips.