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
4
The nights in the park quickly became a routine. Godric would leave his nest with a pack of TruBlood when dusk settled in to go feed the feral baby vampire, and return home just as the sun was about to break over the horizon.
Soon, she was waiting for him. Never getting close, hardly ever speaking, but he felt her eyes on him the moment he entered the park, and she slinked from the shadows, when he placed the 4-pack of bottled blood at a safe distance from where he himself would sit down, to drink her fill.
Sometimes she would stay around and watch him silently, other times she would run off, but she never left the park or his supervision.
It took weeks before there was any change.
His nest-mates had stopped commenting on the amount of time he put into one wild young one after the first week when he – in a more curt tone than what was normal for him - pointed out that the paperwork he had to do as the Sheriff could be done anywhere, and he happened to like doing it outdoors these days. They took the hint.
The breakthrough was unexpected.
He was in the middle of reading through the latest report from the Authority concerning vampire procreation statistics one night, when the unmistakable scent of an unfamiliar vampire hit his nostrils.
His head shot up as he let his senses scan the park. It was a male – a strong one – and he had a good idea of what he was doing there, even though there were no humans out and about.
Humans weren't always the only ones getting hunted by vampires, though this sort of prowling wasn't for food.
"Kitten, come here," he called to the baby vampire that was currently roaming round the treetops next to the bench he was sat on.
She paused, looking down at him with a quirked eyebrow as if to suggest he'd gone mad.
"Smell the air." He got up, carefully placing his paperwork down on the bench and looking in the direction the other male was approaching from. He had slowed down, probably picking up on Godric's scent. "We are not alone."
She sniffed at the wind, eyebrows drawing in in concentration before her big eyes became even wider in alarm, muscles tensing to run.
"Don't do that – you will just trigger his hunting instincts." Godric's eyes narrowed as he spotted the stranger popping up over a hilltop, approaching at a leisurely run. He slowed to a walk about fifty yards from Godric, glancing up at the trees while nearing them with a relaxed smile. "Evening."
"Good evening." The dark-haired Sheriff tested the other male's power with a brush of his own, estimating him to be several centuries old – but not anywhere near his own age. "Who are you – and how long have you been in area 9?"
The newcomer lifted his eyebrows in a haughty gesture. "That's quite a bit of information you seek, stranger. Do you have anything to trade for it?" His gaze slid up to the trees again, where a scared hiss erupted from.
"I am the Sheriff of this area and you have not had the courtesy to inform me that you reside within my territory. I believe not silvering you for your insolence might be a worthy bargain for the information I asked for."
The other's attitude changed abruptly. "You are Godric?" he asked, somewhat insecurely.
Godric folded his arms over his chest. It was occasionally useful to have a widespread reputation. "I am."
"Forgive me sir, I've just arrived in Dallas last night and would have come to your nest later tonight. I am Jasper O'Regal." He'd visibly shrunk back.
"Then let me welcome you to my area, Jasper O'Regal, and inform you of the special rules we have in area 9. Under no circumstances is feeding off the unwilling tolerated." His eyes narrowed slightly. "And the same goes for mating."
Jasper nodded quickly. "Of course, Sheriff." He quickly glanced up at the feral girl again. "And, uh… I take it that she is yours?"
Godric had not lived for as long as he had without learning to take advantage of opportunities when they practically got handed to him on a platter. He cocked his head, looking back over his shoulder to the treeline. "Would you say that you are mine, kitten?" He carefully held the smirk out of his voice; there was no reason to gloat over his good fortune.
A small thud notified them of her arrival to the ground seconds before she slowly came out of the shadows, eying Jasper with hostility and stopping two feet behind Godric's back, just within the aura of power he let radiate out as a silent warning to the other male.
"She is my Daughter," Godric lied smoothly, refocusing on Jasper. "And I would be very unhappy if she should go missing for any length of time."
Jasper went through the motions of feigning shock and horror at such an idea, and then quickly made his excuses and took off into the night, leaving them alone once again.
"What does that mean?" she asked softly from behind him.
Godric turned around slowly, happy to confirm that she was still only a few feet from him. "What does what mean?"
"Daughter." Her eyes scanned his face cautiously, but for once she didn't look like she was ready to bolt; she had clearly understood that he had protected her from the other vampire's intentions.
"It is what we call our female progenies," he explained. "And it means that I would have hunted him down and killed him if he had touched you, which made it somewhat less likely that he would consider trying just that." In fact, he would have had to be downright idiotic and/or suicidal, but there was no reason to boast.
"Oh." She seemed to consider that, head tilted. "Why?"
Yes, why indeed? He himself had used his strength and dominance to mate with younger vampires once or twice in his time, though it had been more of a rough courting rather than actual rape; it was not an uncommon occurrence in the vampire world. He glanced at her dirty face containing sensitive lips and those big, scared eyes.
She was too young and too vulnerable, was the simple answer.
"You would not have enjoyed his attentions," he said, face impassive.
A shudder went through her slim body, and she slid further away from him, towards he trees, but stayed out in the open, eyes following him with a mix of wariness and the first sprout of something resembling trust.
"You could be my Daughter," he heard himself say, to his own great surprise. "I could teach you about this life and keep you safe." What on Earth was he doing? He didn't want another progeny - after Eric he had decided that one Child was all he needed, but then the Viking had dragged home Nora and begged him to sire her too, for him. So he had. And he had regretted it, though he loved the girl dearly. In his old age he had started to resent what he was, and as a consequence he had come to resent fating his Children to the same life.
But this girl was already destined for the darkness, and she had no one to teach her or make sure she survived. Someone had to take responsibility for her if she was to make it through her first year – and it might as well be him, seeing as he was Sheriff of the area that had hosted her turning.
"It would be like I was your maker," he continued, silently conceding himself to yet another half a century of looking after a baby vampire with all that that entailed of dealing with poor impulse control and hours upon hours spent patiently explaining simple concepts that he himself now took for granted. "As if I turned you."
It was a little insulting to have his very generous offer met with bared fangs and angry hissing, but the absolutely terrified look in her now saucer-round eyes before she disappeared in a blur made him take the obvious rejection a little less personally; Godric was starting to get the gist of who was responsible for this baby vampire turning feral – and it didn't bring back any pleasant memories.
Maybe that was why she'd turned up in his area; so he could save her from being lost and alone in the darkness like he had been for so many years.