Chapter 5

Bill stood in the middle of his parlor, giving it the once over for the third time.

Room clean? Check.

Clean glasses? Check.

Ice bucket filled? Check.

Woodford Reserve Kentucky bourbon (bottle opened and bit poured down the drain so it didn't look like he dashed out and bought it last night to impress her with his – or rather Sam Merlotte's - awesome knowledge of sipping whiskey.)? Check.

Just as he finished running down his mental checklist, there was a knock at the door. There stood Hope Christiansen, holding a small beer cooler and wearing a dress. A very pretty dress. A dress pretty enough to make him forget that he intended to be angry with her for lying to him during her last visit.

"Hey there," she said in a sunny voice. She held out the beer cooler. "Peace offering?"

"Please, come in." He showed her to the parlor and opened the beer cooler. In it were two units of fresh blood.

"They're samples from a new company I've invested in. The Sanguine Gourmet. They take healthy, willing donors, scare the living daylights out of them with slasher movies, and then draw the blood when it's chock full of tasty stress hormones."

"Really?" said Bill. "That sounds like a million dollar idea."

"Here's hoping," Hope laughed. "Oh, and don't microwave that. Let it sit in a bowl of hot water. The bag will turn blue when the blood reaches 99 degrees. They got that idea from the Coors beer cans."

Bill nodded, clearly impressed. He was even more impressed when it actually worked. He approached the sofa carrying two crystal tumblers – one of warm gourmet blood and the other of fine Kentucky bourbon.

"What shall we drink to?" asked Hope.

Bill thought for a moment, and then said, "Let's drink to Godric's memory. I wish I could have known him better."

"To Godric," said Hope, touching her glass to Bill's. "I wish you could have known him better, too. I think he would have liked you very much." She took a sip of her drink and smiled. "You have good taste in bourbon."

"And you have fine taste in blood. Pardon me." Bill turned his head and retracted his fangs, which had dropped the moment the blood touched his lips. He smiled apologetically. "This is truly outstanding. I think you're going to receive an excellent return on your investment."

"I'm glad you like it." She took another sip of whiskey and looked at him over the top of her glass. "So, are we okay?"

"It's hard to stay angry with you when you were right."

"Does that mean that you've bought yourself a coffin?"

"I have." Bill leaned over and refilled her glass. "But, I didn't invite you here tonight to discuss my 'shortcomings' as our charming sheriff so eloquently puts it. I believe you were going to tell me the story of Godric's making."

"Indeed, I was," said Hope. "But, to understand how Godric was made, we need to know how the first vampire was made, and to understand that, we need to go back to the beginning of all things. Would you like to hear this story from the beginning, Mr. Compton?"

"Yes, ma'am. I would like that very much." He had long since stopped pretending to breathe and gave no further thought to the excellent blood in his glass. His attention was focused entirely in his guest.

"Then we'll start at the beginning," said Hope. "When the Creator of the Realms made his children, he gave them each a gift. To the fairies he gave magic and long life. The Mer received the gift of prophecy. The nymphs and satyrs were given the ability to speak with animals and to bend nature to their will.

"When the creator came to humans, he found that he had no more gifts to give. What a sorry, unfinished creation we were. Our bodies did not have fur to protect us from the elements. We did not have claws or sharp teeth to defend ourselves from predators. Physically, we were ill-equipped to survive a single season in the realm that was created for us. What we did have was an indomitable will to live. The creator admired that and gave the humans a treasure that he had never intended to part with. He laid his hand upon the head of man and gave him a spark of the divine. He gave man an imagination and the ability to create anything except life."

"But humans create life all the time," Bill interrupted.

"We reproduce, but that's not what I'm talking about. I'm talking about breathing life into an object where none ever existed before. That ability is reserved to the creator alone."

Bill nodded that he understood, and wordlessly urged her to go on.

Hope took a sip of her whiskey and continued. "And create they did. Humans not only survived their realm, they became masters of it. They created clothing, shelter, and the ability farm their own food. They mined the earth for metals and made tools. They domesticated animals. They created calendars, and mathematics, and ships of all kinds. But more than that, they created music, and poetry, and art. The creator was pleased and named humans as his most favored creation.

"The Mer and the woodland folk were satisfied with their lot and didn't concern themselves with humans, but the fairies took notice. Some of the fairies would cross realms to watch the humans in awe and wonder, but other fairies were bitter and jealous. They would cross realms to cause chaos and mayhem. Serious disagreements broke out among the fairies and eventually they split into two major factions – the Seelie Court who looked favorably upon humans, and the Unseelie Court, which wished humans ill."

Bill nodded solemnly and said, "Those divisions exist to this day." He'd experienced the wrath of the Unseelie first hand.

"Yes, they do," Hope agreed. "Do you know what a crossroad is?"

Bill nodded. "In the supernatural world, a crossroad is a place where one can travel between realms."

"Exactly," said Hope. "Now, our story moves to the crossroad called Glastonbury Tor, approximately seven thousand years ago. At that time there was a chieftain named Fargher who was favored with seven healthy sons. Now, seven is a powerfully magic number and it wasn't long before the Unseelie took notice. One by one, each of Fargher's beloved sons fell victim to the Unseelie fairies until only one remained: his youngest son whose name was Finlo.

"Fargher went to the court of the Seelie fairy queen and begged her to protect his son from the Unseelie. The queen took pity on him and agreed to do what she could. And she was successful, in a way. Finlo died, but the Unseelie didn't kill him. He was mauled by a bear. It was just one of those things.

"Fargher was inconsolable. He took Finlo's body to the Seelie queen and begged her to use her fairy magic to bring his son back to life. She tried to explain to him that only the creator of the realms had the power to grant life, but Fargher would have none of it. He cursed her name and took Finlo's body to the Unseelie King. There, he promised to pledge fealty to the Unseelie king, if the king would restore life to his son.

"No one knows what magic the king used, but he told Fargher to bury Finlo in the middle of a stone circle and to have a young woman stand vigil. Fargher hid and watched. That night, at sundown, Finlo emerged from the ground. He raped the woman and drank her blood –

"He was vampire," said Bill.

"No, he was something far worse," said Hope. "That night, from his hiding place in the woods, Fargher watched as Finlo killed every man, woman, and child in a nearby village. When the sun rose, Finlo went back to ground.

"Fargher realized that going to the Unseelie King was a terrible mistake, so went back to the fairy queen and told her what happened. She went to the place where Finlo was resting and laid her hands on the ground. She told Fargher that he owed no fealty to the Unseelie king because the king had not restored life to Finlo. Instead, he gave Finlo a walking death. She explained that all things that sustained life – sun, food, and drink – would be a poison to Finlo. Having no life energy of his own, Finlo would have to draw it from the blood of others.

"Fargher was understandably distraught. He asked the fairy queen how he could kill something that was that was already dead, and she told him to simply dig Finlo up and expose him to the sun. Fargher dropped to his hands and knees, intending to dig, but found that he just didn't have it in him to destroy what was left of his son. He begged the queen to undo the Unseelie magic, but she explained to him that she could not.

"Then the queen did a curious thing. She asked Fargher how much he would be willing to sacrifice for his son. He answered that he would give everything, even his own life. The queen was pleased with his answer and told him that while she couldn't undo the Unseelie magic, she could add some magic of her own. Finlo would still be walking death, but if Fargher was willing to offer himself to his son and allow him to feed from his blood, she could restore to Finlo the ability to love.

"That night, the sun set and Finlo rose again. He attacked Fargher, but this time something different happened. As he drank his father's blood, he realized that this was his father, and that he loved him very much. He stopped feeding before he killed Fargher. Finlo wasn't human by any means, but he wasn't a mindless killer any more."

"He was vampire," said Bill.

"Yes, he was vampire." Hope replied.

"It's an incredible tale," said Bill. "Do you believe it's true?"

Hope shrugged. "It's the story Finlo told Godric, and it's the story Godric told me." She smiled kindly. "Now, it's the story I've told you."

"But, do you believe it?"

Hope paused for thought, and then answered seriously, "Yes, I do. Crossroads are a fact. The division between the fairies is a fact. Humans are the only creatures with an imagination and the ability to create. So yes, I believe that the story is essentially true."

Bill gave her a skeptical look. "I don't think humans are the only beings with an imagination. Vampires can imagine and create."

"No, they can't." Hope placed her hand over his and sighed. "Vampires are hundreds, sometimes thousands of years old. Where are your great philosophers? Your artists? Your scientists? Your writers? There aren't any. Vampires are cunning and intelligent, but they are not creative. Fairies aren't either. Think about it. It's considered miraculous that Niall invented gloves to protect the fairies from iron. Gloves! In the last four thousand years, humans have gone from inventing the wheel to the space shuttle and fairies have invented transparent gloves."

"But they have magic."

"Yes, they do, and humans do not. Just like the story says."

"I still don't believe that vampires are incapable of creativity." There was an uncomfortable edge in Bill's voice.

"Let's try something." Hope rummaged in her bag and pulled out two pens and a spiral notebook. She tore out a sheet of paper for each of them and handed Bill a pen. "Ok, each one of us is going to draw a flower that does not currently exist. The sky's the limit. The more ridiculous the better. The only rule is that it has to be something totally unique. Are you game?"

"Sure." Bill took the pen and stared at the paper for a long moment. He made several false starts, only to discard the ideas as unoriginal. He looked over and saw Hope scribbling furiously. Her flower was certainly ridiculous, but undoubtedly unique. Try as he might, he could not come up with so much as a whisper of a novel idea. He put his pen down and closed his eyes.

Hope took his face in her hands. "It's all right."

"No, it's not."

"Yes, it is. Listen to me, Bill. You have lost something precious, but look at what you've gained! You'll have hundreds, maybe thousands of years of life experiences. You'll be a witness to history. Now that y'all have come out of the coffin, you can even shape history. And I'll tell you what else. If half of the stories I've heard about you and Sookie Stackhouse are true, you've got the ability to love in spades, and that my friend, is enough."

Bill gave an ironic laugh. "Perhaps it would be if Sookie still loved me, but in case you haven't heard, she's with Eric now."

"I did hear, that," said Hope. "I don't understand that relationship at all."

"Well, he is tall, and good looking I suppose, if you go for the Nordic type. He's also very powerful in the vampire community."

"Maybe you should date him," Hope laughed. Bill couldn't help but laugh with her. After a moment the laughter faded and Hope said, "I know what it's like to have someone you love leave you. You miss them so much that there's a hole in you that you don't think anything will ever fill, but at the same time I'm so angry…"

"And lonely."

"Yeah, that too." Hope sighed. "I wonder which is worse: having to see your former lover everyday or knowing that you're never going to see them again."

"I don't know." Bill conceded. "I honestly don't know."

"Me neither." She threw back the rest of her bourbon and laid her head on Bill's shoulder. "I know I promised to tell you Godric's story, but I … I just don't want to talk about him right now. Can I tell you another night?

"Of course." He tucked an errant lock of hair behind her ear and smiled. "Scheherazade."

He gently lifted her chin and ghosted the pad of his thumb over her lips. He felt her pulse race under his fingertips and heard her breath hitch. Slowly, he leaned in and pressed his lips to hers – softly at first, and then more urgently as she responded in kind.

"No blood," she breathed into his ear as he trailed kisses down her neck.

Bill groaned in frustration and pressed his body against hers. "Please."

"Can't," Hope replied, wrapping her legs around his hips.

They both jumped as his cell phone vibrated in his front pocket. A moment later, Hope's ring tone sounded from her bag.

"The sheriff is summoning me to Fangtasia," Bill snarled, snapping his phone shut. "Immediately."

"Me too," said Hope, reading a text message on her own phone. "If this is his idea of a joke, I swear, I'm going to stake him."

Bill's lips curled into a decidedly evil grin. "I'll help."

Thanks for all of the lovely reviews! One little hint about the future of this plot: Godric told Hope all of these stories for a reason. :)