Chapter Ten:
Three months later
"I don't know who's moping more, you or Godric," Nora mused as she climbed the steps to his throne.
Fangtasia was thriving despite the issues with the vampire Authority. The European Council had taken control of what was left of the Authority, dismantling it before creating a better system. She had been surprised when she hadn't been punished, though she had been partnered with Salome and the Sanguinistas. But Godric had fought hard for her pardon, even selling his soul back into politics for her. She would forever be grateful.
Eric Northman was moping. He would deny it to both his sister and his progeny, of course. He had barely spoken a word to Godric since he had revealed himself to them, revealed all of his lies. It didn't matter the apology after apology that Godric offered. None of it mattered. He had still faked his death, and to Eric, it was the ultimate betrayal.
"Come on now, brother," she tried to reason with him, settling herself in front of his gaze, forcing his glare upwards. "He's here; He's alive. Lets rejoice about that, yes?"
"He lied to us," Eric hissed with narrowed orbs. He hands clutched the arms of his throne, the wood beginning to splinter beneath his grasp. "He led us to believe that he was dead for an entire year. How can you just forgive him?"
"Well for one, he just saved our lives," Nora pointed out. "We've all made mistakes, Eric. I've made the worse of them. But he's forgiven me. The least I can do is forgive him."
"He left us."
"And he's remorseful."
"I don't care," Eric looked away stubbornly, making sure to keep his gaze away from the corner booth his maker would sit in every single night, hoping that his child would come around. But he wouldn't.
Nora rolled her eyes. "Always the stubborn Viking. We should be grateful that he's alive. He's miserable enough. Do you want him to truly leave us this time?"
Eric clenched his teeth together but didn't utter another word.
Sighing, Nora shook her head and left the stage. It might take more than a few months for Eric to see reason, but she was certain that eventually he would. He had always been closer to Godric than Nora had been, the two traveling over a thousand years together. Eric would come to forgive their maker, even if it took a few centuries.
"He'll come around, father," Nora offered their maker softly as she slid into the booth across from him. He was nursing a Tru Blood, though he had hardly taken a sip. "We'll be a family once more."
He sent her an assuring smile. She had been more worried about Eric's stubbornness than he had been. He knew he deserved the hatred that was radiating off of his first-born. He deserved more much than that even. "I'm merely glad that he is allowing me to be in his presence. He will come to terms with what I have done eventually."
Nora's lips twitched downwards. He didn't seem at all bothered by Eric's attitude. In fact, there was nothing but love and acceptance as he spoke about the Viking.
It wasn't Eric's refusal to forgive him that was causing her father his misery.
"It's not Eric causing your misery," Nora searched his features. What else could be wrong? "What more is there, Godric? What's causing this? You aren't rethinking being here, are you? Are you wishing to meet the true death this time?"
Godric quickly hushed her worries, reaching a hand out to grasp hers. "No, my daughter. You will not have to worry about that. I'm content with remaining here."
"Then what is it? Why are you so…sad?"
His gaze dropped to the table where his phone lay. He had been working up the nerve to call Grace, to even just text her. But he was afraid. He had taken down the Authority in one single night, but he was afraid to talk to a human girl. It was ridiculous.
Raising an eyebrow, Nora snatched the phone away from her maker. He had been keeping the device close ever since they had arrived back in Shreveport. She had first assumed it was due to his new role with the European Council and his impending Louisiana Kingdom, but now she was realizing it had to do with so much more. Swiping away the locked screen, she was surprised to find a single text to a number she was unaware of.
Soon.
"Who's Grace, father?" her head tilted to the side. When Godric ripped the phone back out of his grasp, a smirk slid across her lips. So this Grace was the problem then. "Who's this girl, Godric? Has she entrapped your heart?"
It was only supposed to be a joke, a tease to her unusually acting maker. But when he didn't reply, his gaze remaining on the text, Nora couldn't help but laugh.
Her maker, her 2000-year-old savage of a maker, had fallen for a girl.
"Please tell me Eric doesn't know about her, because I want the honour of letting my dear brother know that our maker has fallen for a girl," she snickered. "Oh please tell me she's human!"
"She is no one," it was only a lie, and Nora knew it. Godric wasn't fooling anyone.
As she badgered him for details, across the bar another was listening in with mild interest. Eric's head snapped to the side at the name of a girl, his eyebrows furrowing as he eyed his maker and sister. Grace? Had his maker found himself a human pet? But no, never had Godric looked at a human for more than sex or a feeding. Then again, Eric had begun to realize that over the last century, his maker was no longer the vampire he knew him to be.
Annoyed that it was entirely possible that a human had kept his maker from them for the past year, Eric left his throne to retreat into his office.
"Isabel," he called the only vampire that may know anything about this human. He rolled his eyes at even the idea that Godric had found himself a pet. It was ridiculous!
"Eric, It's good to hear from you. How are things with your maker?"
A scowl formed on his lips. "What do you know about a human girl of his?"
"Hm?"
"A girl. Grace I believe her name is. Who is she?" Eric demanded.
"I'm not quite sure who you are referring to, Eric. Perhaps you should speak with…"
"Give me a god damn last name, Isabel. I'll do my own background check if need be. Just a name."
Isabel hesitated. "I don't think that's a very good idea."
"Her name, Isabel."
Grace grunted in frustration at the continuous knocking on her apartment door. She was in the middle of packing, nearly finished with the living room. She didn't have time to get distracted now, not if she wanted to be out by the end of the week. But whoever felt the need to be calling on her at this time of night didn't see anything wrong with banging until she complied.
"I'm coming, I'm coming," she grumbled, sliding a piece of packing tape across the top of her latest filled box before hurrying over to the door. Her neighbours would have a field day if she didn't stop the racket.
When she opened the door, however, she realized she should have just risked it.
"Mom," Grace greeted hesitantly, eying her parents closely. "Dad. What are you guys doing here…Ms. Kensington?" what was the psychologist that her parent had forced her to see when she was younger doing here? At her door? At 9 p.m. at night?
And why were there two very large men in scrubs behind her?
"Hello darling," her mother smiled widely, pushing her way into the apartment.
Grace could do nothing but stand back as her father followed, the doctor and the two men slipping inside before she could slam the door on their faces.
"Well this is just great," she muttered under her breath, keeping a close eye on the men as she inched her way back into the living room. There were boxes everywhere as she prepared for the move. Amy had already shuffled her belongings into her boyfriend's place, all that remaining either to be sold or packed into the moving truck that would be arriving Friday morning.
Of course, the mere fact that she was moving was a surprise to her parents. Grace may not have mentioned the life decision to her parents.
"What's going on here, dear?" her mother questioned with pursed lips. "Is Amy moving?"
"She's already gone," she waved at her parents to sit on the couch, that and the coffee table the only pieces of furniture left in the room.
"So this is yours?" her father motioned to the boxes.
"I might be moving," Grace tried not to be intimidated by their stares. She was a grown woman. She could make her own decisions without running to mommy and daddy. She had already made her mind up months ago; it had just taken some time to get her plans settled.
But they finally were.
She couldn't stay in a program she didn't have a passion for. She hated sitting in a classroom, listening to a boring lecture she didn't give a crap about. She wanted to swim. She wanted to teach. She had always liked kids, and swimming seemed to be the only thing she ever really cared about. Grace had ended up getting a coaching job in New Orleans. It was minor, and barely paid a thing. But it was a job; one that she was actually excited to begin.
Her parent's excitement, though, was non-existent.
Grace tried to explain to them, tried to get them to understand, but they just sat there looking at her as if she were crazy. Maybe to them, she was. But this was the first time in her life that she just knew what she wanted. If that was crazy, well then she was happy to be so.
"Sweetheart, I don't think you've thought this all the way through," her mother's sickly sweet voice made Grace want to gag. "I think perhaps you should move back home and we can make some decisions together."
"Yes, I think that would be for the best," her father agreed, already pulling his phone from his pocket. "I'll call for a truck and we can bring you home tonight. How does that sound, honey?"
"Whoa, that is definitely not necessary. Dad, get off your phone," she pleaded with him. The last thing she needed was to be dragged back home. "I'm moving to New Orleans. I have a job there now. I get that this might be a change for you, but it's my decision."
Her father just shook his head, patronizing her. "You've just had a tough time. We should have seen that and stepped in. Don't you worry, Grace, let me deal with the details."
Her jaw dropped open. They weren't listening to her at all.
"How about you and I sit down and talk, Grace? I'm sure there is plenty on your mind," Ms. Kensington suggested.
"Yeah I don't want to talk," annoyance was starting to get the better of her. "What I want to do is finish packing so I can move the hell away."
"Is this because you were never rebellious as a teenager?" her mother wondered. "Is that why you're acting out now?"
"I'm not acting out!"
"Come, Grace, lets talk," Ms. Kensington moved to where Grace's father had vacated the couch and patted the cushion. "All we want to do is help you."
Grace raised an eyebrow. "Help me? Really? Is that why you're here, Ms. Kensington? Oh, and how about your minions over there? Are they here to talk too?"
"Of course."
"Oh no," Grace began retreating towards the hallway. "You are all the crazy ones here, not me. I don't want to talk to you. I don't want to talk at all. There's nothing to talk about. I'm an adult. I'm making adult decisions."
Her mother sighed heavily. "But moving away? Is this because of your friend? Has he come back?"
They still didn't believe, even after Vampires had revealed themselves, that Grace had met a boy that fateful night so many years ago, that he had vanished like magic. She was still talking nonsense, and Grace had a feeling that's all they would ever think.
"Lets go home, Grace," her father urged.
But Grace had a feeling she wouldn't be going home if she went with her parents. Why else would they have brought her old psychologist with two very large men? Oh no, they were going to hold true to their word from years ago. They were trying to send her away, lock her up and hope some drugs and a good talking to would fix her. All of this because of one night, one vampire, and her distaste for school?
Grace was beginning to realize it were her parents that were crazy.
"Yeah, I think you've all lost it," Grace took another step backwards, her gaze darting to the door. No way in hell was she going to let them throw her in some room and throw away the key. She wasn't crazy damn it! "You all need to leave."
"I'm afraid we can't do that, Grace," Grace caught Ms. Kensington nod at the two men.
Her eyes widening, Grace didn't waste a moment as she darted towards the door. Were her parents this insane? She sure as hell wasn't going to go willingly. Or silently. She would kick and scream the entire way to the Asylum if she had to. If they even caught her. She was a runner. She had gone running almost every night since her freshman year in high school. She had a good chance of outrunning at least her parents. The two men, well, they were large enough that they would likely get tired quickly.
Grace couldn't believe she was actually considering scenarios of outrunning anyone. And her parents at that! Being involved in the vampire world was less complicated than this, and she had been kidnapped and nearly killed.
She shook away all other thoughts as she reached the door. None of it mattered. Because if she got locked away, she definitely wasn't going to see the vampire she had spent three months doing her best to get over. She wasn't ready to lose all hope just yet.
Ripping open the door, though, she was met with another challenge. She half expected it to be another one of Ms. Kensington's, but after a good look, Grace realized the tall, vampire god was definitely not someone the psychologist would look at as an ally. Grace stopped dead in her tracks as she stared at the blonde vampire in surprise. Who the hell was he, and why was he just standing there, filling her doorway?
"You're his little pet?" Eric raised an eyebrow as he stared at the human before him. The least his maker could have done was pick someone more exciting looking, someone who wasn't so average. After 2000 years, and he chooses this little darling? What was his maker thinking?
It took Grace a moment to understand his words, her eyebrows furrowing as she considered him. When realization dawned, her mouth gaped open.
"You're Eric?"
A/N: It just wouldn't be right without Eric needing to insert himself into other people's lives. Put your hands up if you think Godric is just going to be thrilled about this. haha.