Chapter 21

She'd fucked up. She'd really, really fucked up.

Irin glanced desperately at her Maker as he stood impassively in front of the King's large mahogany desk, feet slightly apart and back straight as an arrow. He was exuding his usual, commanding aura in rich waves, but despite his powerful presence and calm face, she knew she'd messed things up for him. For both of them. She'd done the one thing he'd told her not to—and she didn't know what would happen now. If the King really would work out that she wasn't of Godric's blood. If… if someone would try to take her away from him.

She clutched at his hand desperately, wishing he would look at her and tell her everything would be okay, but he kept his unwavering gaze on the King as he sat down on the edge of his desk. At least he didn't let go of her hand, and hadn't at any point since her little mishap.

Despite the King's carefully schooled face he couldn't quite hide the satisfied glean in his eyes. "Do you care to explain why your progeny can teleport?"

It was the first thing he'd said since he led them from the feeding room into his office, and it made Irin flinch and press closer into Godric's back, until she couldn't physically get any closer unless he stripped out of his shirt.

Godric's aura somehow strengthened, filling the room to the walls without him as much as moving a muscle. "No. I do not."

The King lifted an eyebrow, his carefully schooled indifference falling for incredulity. "Excuse me? I am your King, and I believe I asked you a very straight-forward question."

"And as my King, I serve you in the best interest of the Kingdom of Texas, but my Daughter's abilities are none of your concern. Nor are my reasons for Turning her of anyone's business but my own. She is mine, of my blood, and that is all anyone needs to know. Even including you, your Majesty."

Godric's voice was smooth and calm, without as much of a sliver of emotion breaking through, but the King looked like he'd just been slapped nonetheless. Then his expression of shock fell for seething anger.

"You are going to regret this, Godric," he hissed, all pretenses of formality wiped away to show his true nature—ruthless, cunning brutality. "I will not tolerate insolence, not even from you. You may be an Ancient, but you will regret making an enemy of me."

For the first time since the incident with the donor, Godric's body language changed into something more than calm indifference. It was only a tilt of his head, but even from her vantage point behind his back, Irin could sense the monumental shift in the room as he let just a fraction of his facade slip.

"If you choose to make me an enemy today, Randall, I am not the one who will regret it, that I can promise you. I am two thousand years old. You have no reference of knowledge for what it takes to survive as one of us for more than two millennia, and you will have no chance to ever stand against me. You are not old enough, you are not powerful enough. But, if you choose to take insult where none was intended, I cannot stop you. I can only hope you value your life, and the life of your beloved, enough that you do not let this moment of pettiness evolve into a chain of events you will regret. Bitterly." Godric's voice was still smooth, but the threat was unmistakable. "Now, I believe it is best if my progeny and I leave for my nest. Thank you for your hospitality. I will be in touch once I have set up the recommended measures in case the infection spreads to the Americas."

One of the main reasons Godric had stayed alive for so many years was that he'd always known how to maneuver the delicate political streams in vampire society. Pull the strings behind the curtain to set about events you wished to unfold, but never show your hand to those who wish to oppose you—that was the founding principle behind political power.

Tonight, he had cast all precaution, all his accumulated wisdom, aside. He had threatened a King and his Mated Child, on the cusp of a worldwide catastrophe that would require all their focus and power, all so his kitten's secret would stay safe.

But there had been other options, other paths he could have chosen. He could have lied to the King and prayed the he himself would find out the truth of her origin and powers before the cunning royal did, told him that teleportation was a rare but not unheard of ability in his bloodline. Instead, he had showed off his power and gone for intimidation, in the vain hope that it would be enough to make the King stand down. Even though he knew how unlikely it was that Randall would let such a power play go unpunished.

The truth was that he had wanted to display his strength, and his claim to the Irin, as a foolish adolescent too wrapped up in his body's newfound strength and desires to think before he acted.

Godric heaved a sigh and glanced down at the girl who was wrapped around his torso, her face marred with silent tears of blood. She hadn't said a word since they'd left the King's office, which was in itself a clear giveaway that she knew how dire the situation was.

"I won't let anyone hurt you," he said. His fingers slid through her strawberry locks to her cheek, smearing the tears there. "No matter what happens, I will keep you safe, Kitten. I promise."

She looked up at him with surprise plain in her red-rimmed eyes. "Y-you're not mad at me?"

Godric suppressed a wince. Was he frustrated that his Child was incapable of following any command, especially when it came to something as important as not showing the King her special ability? Yes. Exceedingly. But in hindsight, he knew she was still feral an highly unstable, and he knew he had asked more than was fair of her for this visit. "No. I am mad at myself. I should never have let Randall force my hand in bringing you in the first place. I have been too complacent for far too long, and this situation is a result of my ineptitude for the past century."

"Oh." She frowned up at him, clearly not following. "So… what does that mean? For now? Will he try to take me from you?"

"I don't know, Kitten. With the risk of the infection spreading to our borders, I doubt even Randall will be rash enough to risk the entire continent on a petty feud. I could be wrong, of course, but I think he will play the long game. So we must too." Godric stroked her hair and smiled despite himself when he eyes closed with pleasure from the caress. "You have nothing to worry about, Daughter. I will take care of it."

It was all well and good that Godric was going to "take care of" the mess she'd made at the King's palace, but after two weeks, Irin was ready for it to be done with.

Vampire politics were the most boring and time consuming thing in the entire universe, and since their return from Houston Godric had spent as much time locked away in his office on the phone and in meetings as he had before their visit. And this time, Isabel had to spend most of her time doing whatever duties he needed her to, which meant that Irin was left with Stan as her babysitter most nights. A fact neither of them appreciated.

"I am bored! Can we at least watch a fun movie? Or literally anything without John Wayne in it?"

Stan gave her an annoyed look from underneath his cowboy hat as he sat on the pristine sofa across from her, both arms sprawled out over its back and his boots on the table. "If I have to play nanny, I get control of the remote. End of discussion, cupcake."

"I don't want you to be my nanny. I'm more than old enough to be left on my own."

This time, the older vampire's look was scathing. "And three seconds later be on Godric's lap, interrupting an important meeting? Again? Yeah, I think not. You're not the one he takes his displeasure out on—you're much too fragile for a scolding, aren't you, princess?"

Irin bristled. If she'd been human, her cheeks would have heated from anger. "I am not fragile!"

Stan scoffed and turned his attention back on the movie. "Oh? Could have fooled me, the way you cling to the sheriff like a baby koala any chance you get. Do you have any idea the shit storm that's going to descend on this nest if the infection and King Randall's wrath hits at the same time? Every other vampire under Godric's command is gearing up for war—yes, even the newborns. Everyone, apart from you—and me, because I'm tasked with looking after you. So if you're not a fragile little princess incapable of doing anything useful, then you might want to let the sheriff know one of these days, so we can both get out there and help. Until then, kindly shut your yap so I can watch my movie in peace."

It was an odd mix of emotions that flooded through Irin as she sat silence in the wake of Stan's harsh rant. Anger fizzled for hurt, which quickly devolved into intense shame. Because he was right. She wasn't helping Godric in any way, shape or form—in fact, she was the reason they were at risk of the King's wrath.

When he had first taken her in, she had been so lost in the darkness that she was little else but instincts and fear. But now… she knew she wasn't completely right—that something in her mind had snapped, perhaps beyond repair. But she wasn't lost anymore. She was with Godric, safe in his protective aura.

And she had let his care and protection shield her from working on getting back to being a functioning individual. He treated her as a precious child, and she allowed herself to act thereafter.

She was no help to Godric. She was a hindrance.

The shame dipped into sorrow, and Irin had to bite her lip to hold back a sniffle. She'd rather die than let Stan see her cry from his words. From the truth.

But instead of settling into deep depression, the sorrow flickered and vanished as stern resolve set in. Godric deserved a Child who would help him every step of the way, who would be a source of pride and joy. And since she wasn't letting him go, ever, she would have to become better for him. Stronger.

Quietly—so quietly that Stan, who was once again engrossed in the movie, didn't even notice—she slipped out her seat and tip-toed to the hall.

As much as she didn't want to be farther away from Godric's side than she absolutely had to, there had been a time where she was fully capable of navigating the outside world on her own.

When she was newly turned she had survived in the park with no help from anyone for over a month, and before that, she'd walked around Dallas as any other functioning member of the world. Which meant that she could most certainly do that again, now, after soaking in Godric's divine presence for so long. She wasn't entirely sure what exactly she would do "out there", but Stan was right. She needed to help her beloved Maker with his territory. She'd be back long before dawn, before he'd have any idea she'd been out of the nest.

It took her several minutes to psyche herself up to crossing the hallway and open the front door. But when she finally put a trembling hand on the handle, it snapped down underneath her fingers with a sharp click.

Irin shrieked, images of zompires and armed vampires from the King's guard flashing through her mind as she stumbled backward in terror, just in time to not get hit in the face by the door as it swung inward.

Her startled yelp died at the sight of the man who stepped through the door.

He was tall, with shoulders so broad he practically took up the entire door frame, and shoulder length blond hair around a face so masculine and chiseled that any male runway model would have given their right arm for it. If it hadn't been for the black leather coat and skintight jeans, he would have looked like the picture-perfect representative of a Norse Viking. If she'd never met Godric, she wouldn't have known that it was physically possible to be that gorgeous, but it was more the sheer size of him, along with his unexpected arrival, that had her gaping up at him in mute shock.

His mouth slanted in a mischievous smirk at the sight of her undoubtedly slack-jawed stare. He closed the door behind him with a casual shove and then leaned forward, resting his hands above his knees so he was in eye height with her, pursing his lips in mock-contemplation.

"Well, you're a shrieky little thing, aren't you? Tell me, did Daddy Dearest leave you all on your own, or is he locked away in his office, working himself to his True Death, as per usual?"

Daddy Dearest? Irin blinked, too surprised to take notice of his mild insult. Who the hell was this stranger, and what was he doing in their front hall?!

"Eric."

The sound of Godric's warm voice made her snap her head around to see her Maker appear from the hallway that lead to his office. His face was a study in pleasant surprise, and the love in his eyes made her knees weak, even though he wasn't looking at her.

"Father," the big blond replied softly. "I have missed you."

Father?! Oh, wasn't that just fan-freaking-tastic? It looked like her big brother had arrived.

xXx

Happy Holidays! I hope the new year is off to a good start for everyone.

Wow, getting back into this story was a bit weird after my humongous break, but I really enjoyed getting back to Godric and Irin. I hope you enjoyed the suuuuper-late chapter update!
I won't be able to keep up any sort of a regular posting schedule, but I do hope to be able to update a bit more frequently than once a year... My New Year's resolution is Time Management, so fingers crossed I'll be able to slip a bit more snuggle porn into my schedule this year!