Disclaimer:
Anything you recognise belongs to the creative genius that is Charlaine Harris and/or Alan Ball. I'm just playing around with their universe(s).
xXx
3
Godric purposely ignored his underlings' raised eyebrows when he returned to the nest without the baby vampire he'd said he'd be bringing back. He was acutely aware that this was not a highlight in his many years of flawless leadership, but he was not in the mood to let them know that yes, he'd vastly underestimated the difficulty level of the task he'd set them.
And it wasn't like he'd failed at bringing her back… he'd just been a little optimistic in regards to the timeframe.
"So… where is she?"
Stan appeared to not know when it was time to shut up.
Godric gave him a warning look before he closed the door to his office behind him with a sharp snap.
The small chuckle that drifted through the door made him grimace; he knew better than to let useless emotions such as injured pride get the better of him. It was just so blasted long since he'd had to practice dominating that particular feeling.
What was the best way to lure a wild – and hungry – animal to you? Food, of course.
Godric grabbed a 4-pack of TruBlood from the fridge and – once again – ignored the questioning looks from his nest-mates as he headed towards the door, but this time it was his second in command who let curiosity get the better of her.
"Are you planning a picnic, Sheriff?" she asked innocently in her lovely, Hispanic accent.
"Few bite the hand that feeds them," he replied sagely, refusing to let their gentle teasing get to him again. He nevertheless left the nest before any of them could come up with anymore witty questions.
He picked up her fresh scent more easily this time, but instead of tracking her down he simply sat down on a bench close to a line of trees and waited until he could sense her skulking closer, drawn in by curiosity and probably desperation. When she settled down in a tree about thirty yards away he took out one of the bottles of TruBlood and carefully unscrewed the lid. The synthetic blood didn't have nearly the same appealing aroma as human blood, but if she was as hungry as he estimated she would still find it hard to stay away when the scent hit her nostrils.
A small intake of breath let him know that he'd estimated correctly.
"Come eat, little kitten," he said quietly, knowing she would be able to hear him perfectly.
She didn't move a muscle.
"I know you are hungry, and I can't let you hurt anymore humans in my area. This is TruBlood – I take it you have heard of it?"
No answer, but she moved a little in her tree, leaning forward to take in the bottles better.
Just then, his ears picked up the sound of laughing humans and her head snapped in the direction of the noise, nostrils twitching.
Oh, sometimes people made it very hard to protect them.
"Don't even think about it," he hissed quietly, registering that the humans were coming in their direction. "If you attack them I will stop you, with any means necessary."
She glanced down towards him, whimpering in frustration as her fear of him battled with her hunger.
"Hold your breath," he sighed, getting up from the bench. "I'll get rid of them."
It turned out to be a small group of five young humans, male and female, who smelled like arousal and beer. Godric managed to smother an eye roll as he stopped them on the path a few bends away from where the feral vampire was lurking in her tree. He'd forgotten how little sense most mortals possessed during the decades he'd stayed away from interacting with civilian humans, and waltzing into a deserted park – drunk – in the middle of the night was about as unwise as it could get.
"Oi there, fella!" one of them greeted him cheerily, as one of the females looked him over appreciatively before striking a coy pose. "Wanna come hang out with us?" she offered.
Godric really didn't understand how some vampires took so much pride in being on top of the food chain; it wasn't exactly like it took a great deal of effort.
"Leave, and don't ever come back to this park," he commanded, putting the power of his Glamouring behind the simple instruction. Their youthful thoughtlessness shouldn't cost them their lives.
Five pairs of eyes immediately glazed over.
"Yes," they muttered in unison before turning around and walking back the way they came.
He thought briefly about talking to Mark Jenkins about teaching the youth of the area a little about self-preservation as he watched them disappear behind a bend in the road, but then realised that the less humans considered vampires a threat to watch out for at night-time, the easier the Mainstreaming movement would fare, and unfortunately for them, continuing to walk around drunk in unpopulated areas after dark would make it easier for more skilled vampires than the little stray back in the tree to get a quiet snack and then Glamouring the humans to forget about it - leaving everyone happy.
Godric shook his head at that thought. He wished more vampires would view humans as more than walking, talking food with genitals, but it was still early days for mutually aware coexistence, and at this point he would consider it a success if feedings became less rapey and lethal. And thanks to his careful governance, his territory was one of the few densely populated areas where vampire-on-human violence was relatively low.
Of course, the feral vampire that hunted in this park didn't do great things for the statistics. He turned around and walked back at a human pace so she would have plenty of warning that he was getting closer, finding her on the ground next to where he'd left the 4-pack, carefully sniffing at the opened bottle.
She jolted upright when she heard him approach, muscles tensed for running.
"Go ahead." He stepped onto the recently-cut grass and sat down, arms wrapped around his knees while still several yards away. "I will stay here while you drink."
He received several more anxious glances before she finally snatched up the opened bottle and took a big gulp.
The gagging that almost instantly followed made a throaty laugh rumble from him.
"It is an acquired taste," he offered at the spitting female. "Try smaller mouthfuls, it will get better that way."
"This is not food!" she hissed, fangs angrily extended at him. "And it's cold!"
Hm, seemed the little thing had been spoiled by the flavour of human blood already. Not that he had expected much else; it generally took a great deal of self-restraint to opt for the synthetic LifeFlow when the natural source was available. Of course, it wasn't available to her anymore, which was the whole point.
"If you had come to my nest you could have had it warmed," he pointed out. "But I promise you, it is fully nutritionally satisfying – and you will not sink your fangs in another human as long as you remain in Dallas. I suggest you give it another try."
The curiously violet eyes shot him a full on glare at that, but her hunger made her take another – very careful – sip. She grimaced, but swallowed.
Godric remained seated while she – very slowly and with lots of disgusted facial expressions – finished the already open bottle, and then another one. Her delicate fingers toyed with the cap of the third one as she cast a questioning glance towards him. "Are you not hungry?"
Remembering Isabel's comment about planning a picnic made his lips twitch. "No, I am not, child. The blood is for you."
She eyed him for a long moment more, ensuring that he stayed where he was, before she quickly snatched up both remaining bottles and took off into the trees.
The ancient vampire sighed and leaned back in the grass. He couldn't go back yet – there was still too much of the night left for her to find a human in, and if she did he would have to be around to stop her.
"Stay in the park or I will have to chase you down again," he called into the night, letting his eyes find the stars while his other senses kept tabs on the baby vampire.
There was no reply, but he could tell that she not only stayed in the park but frequently circled back close enough to look at him from some hiding spot or other. When dawn was half an hour away she was up a tree again – she seemed to favour the trees – looking down on him while balancing the last, empty bottle of TruBlood on a finger.
"It is time to go to ground, kitten," he said, sitting up and looking up at her through the leaves, catching her violet eyes with his. "Morning is approaching."
She held his gaze for a few seconds before disappearing in a flurry of tangled hair.
xXx
A/N:
Poor kitten, being forced to drink synthetic blood when there is so much of the natural variety floating around in the veins of oblivious humans.