Chapter 2: No One to Miss Her

CHAPTER TWO: NO ONE TO MISS HER

GODRIC

My eyes stare up at the blacken sky through the branches of the old maple and oak trees that have me hidden. Though darkness has eloped everything around me, the full moon shining brightly in the sky gives everything a soft white glow as it sits at its peak for the night. The twinkling stars accompany the moon as the world underneath them sits quietly, the chirping of crickets and the owl hooting somewhere off in the distance are the only sounds breaking the silence. A warm gentle breeze blows around me, leaving a warmness to my skin for a moment. It is the perfect night to be transitioning into a vampire; the night almost mirrors the night I turned.

However, the moon shone brighter even if it was a little smaller, the stars twinkled a little more and the dirt felt cleaner, I could almost say purer since mankind hadn’t touched the earth’s surface as badly as they have done now.

I don’t miss the inkling of anger that has buried its way inside of me, it nips at my sides faintly and it’s an easy enough feeling to brush away. My anger isn’t directed at anyone in particular, maybe myself if I truly think about it. My actions the night before were extremely reckless but there is no point in holding any guilt because I cannot turn back the hands of time. The nameless woman lies in a makeshift grave, a grave that I had only crawled out of three hours ago. Whether the fiery woman survives the transition or not is still left in the air without a definite answer.

My stare turns to the grave. If the woman doesn’t survive, the makeshift grave she is in will become her unmarked grave for all of eternity. It’s a place that no one will find her, we’re hidden so deeply in the forest that sits on the outskirts of Onryx that it’d be years before anyone would come across her. That’s if they dig deep enough to find her. But if by the time that happens, her body will be decaying bones and the grass will have grown over upturned dirt. It’d be pure luck coming across her bones.

I haven’t the slightest clue as to what it was about the spitfire woman that made me do what I have done to her. I spent half the time buried with her wracking my brain to work it out. I haven’t the slightest clue as to what it was about the spitfire woman that made me do what I have done to her. I spent half the time buried with her wracking my brain to work it out. Maybe it was the fact that I could see the fight in her odd coloured eyes slowly burning out, a fight that was done the moment she put that Ashwood stake through Darna’s chest. Maybe it was the fact that I didn’t want to see that fight burnt out of her eyes just yet. There is something about the woman that has drawn me in. She impressed me with the way she was able to get the jump on a vampire and take her out. Humans getting the jump isn’t unheard of but it is something that rarely happens.

But maybe it was the way she was so quick-tongued with her remarks to me. Or maybe, just maybe I found that small bit of entertainment in the woman that chased away the thoughts of death and boredom that have overcome me lately.

In the hundreds of years I have been alive, I have never changed a human who didn’t want to be changed. It is something that Amira, my maker, had dug deeply within my head weeks before she had released me from her. I never wanted to be the vampire who took that choice away from a human, but it is exactly who I became. Though, I know that I should hold some sort of regret, I don’t. The light blonde-haired woman will become my third progeny, the two before her had chose to change, chose to take my blood and willingly died at my hands. Only one of the two are now alive.

The first human I had given my blood to and purposefully killed was a woman by the name of Mary Collins, a pretty and petite woman with a smile so bright that it could have lit up the most darkest of rooms. She was the first woman I had shared my immortal secret with, the first woman to keep my secret as hidden as I did. I had only been a twenty-year-old vampire when Mary entered my life and in all honesty, she had been like a breath of fresh air after many years of keeping my head under water.

It was Mary who had raised the question of me turning her, followed with her telling me she wanted the life I had been gifted, to see the world change before her very eyes like I had been doing. Mary had always craved more out of life, more than the lavish life she had. I always felt that Mary had been given a golden life, considering I had come from a poorly family set at the lowest ranks. My home was made of harden mud, logs of wood and a roof made of a mix of branches and hay, and death was more common than not. Mary’s family was part of the upper class; a home of stone and warmth, death wasn’t as common. She had money, food and a warm bed but she still wanted more.

Nine weeks later, I had changed Mary, granting her the wish she wanted. I had fallen in love with Mary, my first love of many. I thought I had found my forever companion to roam the ever-changing world around me. But after twenty short years together, Mary had asked me to release her. More so begged me to release her because she had fallen in love with another. I was in no space to deny her happiness; I released her the very next day in a bittersweet goodbye.

Forty short years later, a letter from her lover turned husband had informed me that Mary had died. Her heart had been ripped from her chest by a vampire she had managed to anger. I never found out why she died so brutally and it has been too long to find out now.

By the time nineteen-sixteen came and I reached the ripe age of one hundred and forty-one of vampirism, I turned my second human.

Marcel Samson is a man I had come across in the chaos of the first world war. By that time, the war had reached its second year and everyone had thought there was no end to that depression. The warzones were the easiest place to hunt and feed, the easiest place to hide in plain sight, the easiest place to be the apex predator that I am. It wasn’t like their bullets could kill me and a lot of families never expected their men to return alive.

When I had found Marcel, he was hidden in a deep, muddy trench. He was soaked from head to toe from the rain that had poured and was clutching a gun in his shaking arms. I could smell the infection in his wound, a deep cut he had gotten only weeks prior. Somehow, I found myself taking pity on the man and offered him a way out of the war, offering him everlasting life that would heal him. Marcel didn’t ask questions, didn’t really think about it, he had simply agreed. He was eager to get out of the war that his father had volunteered him for, a choice that was taken away from him. I was the first to give him a choice of his own. It has now been one-hundred and nine years since I turned him.

It has now been seventy-nine years since I released him from me, after I spent a good thirty years making sure he was okay mentally to survive. It was touch and go for Marcel for a short while, PSTD from the war and heightened emotions were not a good mix. I had a lot of Marcel’s messes to clean up for a long hot minute. But I truly do believe he is definitely okay now.

Marcel spends a lot of his time travelling the world now, visiting different places on this planet that spark his interest, or going back to places that he has fallen in love with. He has grown a big love for big cities and an even bigger love for beaches with their golden sand and crystal-clear waters. The last I had heard, Marcel was on the other side of the world, visiting the cold of all places. He had told me he wanted to see the penguins and walruses; in his words, ones that aren’t locked up in crap enclosures at even crappier zoos. I had laughed and wished him luck with his adventure.

I know my progeny well, over a hundred years does that. It will be a matter of time before Marcel is returning home to Onryx when he learns that I have a new progeny from a reckless, thoughtless choice. I am also sure that Cassius has taken great joy in making that phone call while I was buried in the hole with the nameless woman. I will soon have both my idiotic friends taking the absolute damn piss out of me for a moment of weakness, a side I barely let anyone see. I can see myself considering taking off my sunlight ring and stepping out into the sun when they've made one too many jokes. It wouldn’t be the first time I would feel that way when Cassius and Marcel are together.

My eyes turn away from the clear and starry night to the mound of dirt before me. It should be any moment now that she should be crawling out of the dirt. I am hoping that Cassius has returned before she is out, I at least need her damn name. It’d be rather helpful.

Though it was three hours ago, slowly rolling on four, that I had crawled out of the dirt, I have been leant against a tree with my arms folded ever since. My eyes bouncing back and forth between staring at the sky and at the ground. The dirt I couldn’t get out of my hair itches my scalp, my body begging for a shower and a clean change of clothes. But unfortunately for me, that need will have to wait a while. I have to be here for if and when she come out. As her maker, it is my duty to make sure that she makes it out okay and finds ease in completing the transition. Newborn vampires can be terrible little things, especially if they have the fire that she does.

Amira had stood around waiting almost all night for me to climb out of my dirt grave. She had almost given up and about to walk away when I decided it was time to wake up and climb out. I still have never seen someone so relieved to see me in all the years I have been alive. Amira had smiled like I hung the moon and pushed a human towards me. I feed until I killed the man, the guilt of that had filled me for weeks until I accepted that it happens to most newborn vampires. I had been twenty-five when Amira had changed me. I had been a scrawny, poorly seventeen-year-old boy when Amira had found me, she had kept me alive for eight long years before changing me. An age that I would have never seen if Amira hadn’t been feeding me her blood every time I hurt myself or got sick. She had made sure that I was well into adulthood before I was turned, something I agreed to six years prior. Though, I won’t deny begging her for six long years to change me. Amira has the patience of a damn saint, something that I don’t really have at the best of times.

I am still so very grateful for Amira turning me, even after two-hundred and fifty years later.

I let out a groan and let my head hang for a moment at the thought of Amira. She is going to have my fucking head when she finds out that I changed a human without permission. After all, it was Amira who made sure I never took that choice away from anyone like other vampires had and still do. A human may be dead for a moment before the turning, but it is still their life and they still have control of their life. I am going to have to walk around this place for weeks with two women angered with me, two vampire women that could snap my neck if they really wanted to.

I will survive said broken neck, it’s just going to hurt like a bitch and knock me out for a moment.

“Cassius,” I say as he silently steps up to the spot beside me.

“Hello Godric,” He replied, amusement fills his raspy voice. “Still waiting for her?”

I nod in answer. “Do you have what I need?”

“I really should feel offended that you doubt me, brother,” Cassius says. I turn my head towards him, my eyes rolling at the smugness that graces his diamond-shaped face. “But yes, Godric, I do have what you need. Her name is Saylor Morrison, you’ll be happy to know that she is the ripe age of twenty-nine. Miss Morrison has no family, no friends. Though, I have to say her neighbour is a real Nosey Nelly,”

“No one to miss her,” I murmur, a small frown creasing my eyebrows. I’m not sure if I was speaking to myself or Cassius.

“Nope, definitely no one to miss her if she doesn’t survive this,” Cassius agrees. “One good note, the house she lives in is in her name so she will be able to get in and won’t have to be made to live with you and I. I’m sure Saylor would rather soon step into the sunlight than live with us,”

I breath a laugh. “I guess that is one problem solved then,”

“Given that she survives, how do you think she will come out of that hole? Upset? Angry?” He grins as his groomed dark blonde eyebrows bounce up his forehead once. His light hazel eyes sparkle with amusement. “Murderous?”

“You really are a pain in my ass, Cassius,” I grumble.

He laughs, a deep rumble of a laugh. “Here is one sunlight necklace. Dahlia says you would owe her for this, however, it is on the house. When I told I told her what you did, how reckless you were, she says that hell this woman is going to put you through is definitely enough to consider it payment,”

I roll my eyes at him as Cassius places his hand out in front of me. I will have to make it a list of three women angry at me now.

Hanging from Cassius’ pale finger in a short silver necklace, two matching silver charms swing gently with it. One charm is a small letter S with tiny white gems in it and the other is a crescent moon. The necklace does truly belong to the now not-so-nameless woman, Saylor. The moon charm is the pendant added by Dahlia, matching the crescent moon on my ring, on Cassius’ thick bracelet, the emblem for my coven. Saylor wore multiple silver pieces on jewellery on her body, many rings on her fingers, a bracelet around her wrist, an anklet on her ankle and the necklace around her throat. I figured the necklace would mean more to her than the rest. It would be the only piece of silver that she will wear for as long as she stays alive.

It still baffles me how silver can hurt us but it is silver we wear to stop the sunlight from burning us alive. No amount of questions to witches will ever get me an answer. Witches like their secrets and hold them close, they only ever tell you what they feel you need to know.

My fingers take the necklace from Cassius, pocketing it in the pocket of my jeans. My arms fold across my chest again as I catch sight of the woman standing behind my closest friend. She has brunette hair and dazed chocolate brown eyes, dressed in what look like gym wear. Her hands are rested in front her, her manicured fingers linked together. I listen to the sound of her heart, listening to its steady beats and her lungs breathing calm, steady breathes every few seconds. The woman has no idea where she is, Cassius has compelled her.

I turn my eyes back to Cassius, an eyebrow raised.

“Did you just expect me to drag the woman through town by her hair while she kicked and screamed?” Cassius asks me casually, his eyes turning towards the spot that Saylor is buried. “You need a human source for Saylor to feed on. She’s compelled and won’t remember a single thing if she survives, Godric,”

I hum in agreeance.

A comfortable silence settles around the pair of us, the woman’s soft breathes and the chirps of crickets being the only things breaking it. The seconds turn to minutes, the minutes slowly ticking into two hours. It was just over fifteen minutes ago that Cassius got tired of standing with me and moved to where Saylor is still hidden. My eyes have been following Cassius’ movements as he walks circles around the pile of dirt. I ignore the small about of concern about Saylor that wants to fill my mind.

I don’t allow myself to worry too much about Saylor just yet, I took forever so it’s only far she does this to me; let me feel what Amira was feeling. There is still four hours until the sun is set to rise to start a brand-new day and I have to hold the small hope that my progeny climbs out before then. But if sunrise reaches before Saylor emerges, she isn’t coming out. I will walk away from here, leaving Saylor in an unmarked grave for the Earth to take. I know how this works and there is always fifty-fifty chance.

I will live with the choice I have made, another human life to add to my body count. I won’t allow myself to regret it for too long because one look into Saylor’s odd eyes, she was ready for death no matter which way it came. She was ready to leave this world, she was ready to be reunited with her family on the other side. I don’t truly believe in the afterlife, I don’t think I ever have, but I do know that others do and I know of that comfort the belief brings them. It makes them fear the Reaper a little less.

My interest peaks its little head as Cassius comes to a quick halt, turning his lean body towards the spot he has been walking circles around. I watch as he tilts his head to the side, dark blonde hair moving with the motion gently. He listens carefully to the sounds coming from before him, it makes me listen and a small spark of hope appears inside of me. It seems that Saylor might just make it out of the hole she has been buried in.

I push myself off the tree, standing a little taller, a little straight and allowing my arms to unfold. I listen as carefully as Cassius does, focusing and hearing the sounds of dirt moving.

Saylor is definitely alive and fighting her way out. I find myself bracing for whatever mood she is going to come out of. The downside of being a vampire is the amplified emotions, sometimes they can be so overwhelming that it is hard to control them. And being a freshly turned one? I’m about to catch the brunt of Saylor’s heightened emotions.

My eyes catch sight of the pale hand pushing out of the dirt, her fingers bare of any rings and I can see the faint tan lines where they once were slowly fading away. Her long, red painted nails are covered in wet, dark dirt and gripping a hold of the grass. Her second hand follows the first hand, both hands now digging into the earth’s surface. I won’t lie, a part of me misses those rings; they were just a small part of her like the rest of the jewellery she wore before I took it all off her and gave it Cassis. But I’m sure she will find rings to fill her fingers again, bracelets and anklets to circle her wrists and ankles once I tell her that white gold is the closest she will get to silver. White gold is prettier than silver, more solid as well and it will suit her pale skin tone like the silver once did.

I watch as Saylor’s light blonde hair appears through the dirt, it falls from her head and lands on her shoulders. The tight, slicked back ponytail she had her hair in is now loose and hanging off to the side slightly, random strands falling down her shoulders from where they have fallen out of the hair tie. She grunts and groans as she continues climbing out of the dirt, a slight growl of frustration escaping her throat. I take a step forwards, keeping my focus on Saylor as she struggles. She is almost out, half of her body is still hidden away. We are still yet to learn what type of mood she is in. If I were a betting man, I’d place my money on anger and it’s going to be amplified like a raging fire burning through dry bushland with strong winds.

Her grey shirt is covered in wet dirt, creating dark patches. Stains of blood accompany the dirt, a reminder of what I should be feeling guilty for but don’t. Images of my tattooed wrist to Saylor’s mouth flood my mind for a moment. My blood had flowed down her chin and the sides of her throat, it soaked into her shirt and made the material stick to her skin. Part of me found the sight highly attractive, something about the blood and the wideness of her doe eyes did something to me. I push the thoughts out of my mind and focus on the situation at hand as Saylor pulls the rest of her body out.

For a moment, Saylor lays on her stomach. Her hands still grip the grass and dirt like she is trying to hold onto it with dear life. The hole in the ground she just climbed out of still has a chance of becoming her makeshift grave if she chooses not to feed. I eye Saylor with the side of her face pressed to the grass and soft, short pants breathing from her lungs. Vampires don’t have to breathe as regularly as humans, but part of Saylor is still human.

Watching her pull herself together is just another reminder that I will not be changing another human again, it doesn’t surprise me that digging her way out has taken it out of her for a moment. I found it a struggle to climb out of it only a few hours ago and I have two and a half centuries on the girl. I’m making that promise to myself, no more turning humans. Saylor Morrison is my last progeny and I hope to fucking Christ that she chooses to feed and lives a very long vampire life.

Not even half a blink of an eye, Saylor is up from the ground a few metres away from the hole and squatted down on her legs. One knee is pressed to the Earth with her hands pressed to the ground on either side of her. Her loose, messy hair hangs around her shoulders and hides her pretty face from view. Cassius and I glance at each other, Cassius shrugging a single shoulder and making me turn my attention back to Saylor. We hold still for a moment, watching and waiting for Saylor’s next move.

“You son of a bitch,” Saylor’s soft voice hisses lowly. Her voice is so low that we would’ve missed it if we didn’t have the hearing we do.

“Brace yourself, Godric,” Cassius muses, making me send a quick glare to him.

My eyes turn back to Saylor for less than a second before she is moving in a blur and slamming into me. She hits me with such a force that we’re flown back into a tree, hitting it hard enough that the tree makes a loud crack. I let out a growl through my clenched teeth, taking her weight and meeting her eyes. Her different coloured eyes sparkle with anger as she holds my stare. Both eyes are now so light that there is only a hint of colour to them now, one with that ocean blue colour and one with that whiskey hazel colour. They’re still so gorgeous. I should be happy that she has made it out and I am, but the smarter side of me knows that this is just a small taste of the personal hell I have created for myself.

Saylor’s hands are wrapped around my throat while her knees are somehow pressed to my stomach. Her nails pierce my skin, earning her a hiss from my lips. I feel my blood trickling down the back of my neck, slowly making its way down my shoulder blades and soaking into my shirt. Although there is pain stinging through my throat, I hold myself still and allow her to get some of the anger she holds towards me out of her system. Saylor squeezes a little tighter and heat rushes through me. I shouldn’t be finding this as much of a turn on that I am, I’m only one more squeeze away from her snapping my neck.

"You did this to me, Godric," Saylor spits my name like it’s something foul in her mouth and moves her face closer to mine to make sure I get the threat in her tone.

A rushing sensation of pleasure tingles on my skin where her fingertips are pressed. It’s a feeling that makes me want to try and push to get closer to her, to touch her paled skin just to see how soft it is under my hands. I hold myself as still as stone, not willing to set this fire ablaze. I’m smart enough to know that any sudden movements will just piss this fiery woman off more than she already is and snap my neck without her blinking. I truly cannot have her snapping my neck, I’ll heal but it’ll take a couple hours to come back and that is a situation that is definitely not needed right now.

My hands reach up to her wrists, my fingers circling around them and adding a bit of pressure, enough to make Saylor let go. Saylor is yet to learn that the older the vampire, the stronger they are. I could snap her neck with the twist of one hand if I really wanted to. Without a second thought, I push Saylor off me with a hard shove. Cassius chuckles as Saylor sores through the air for a moment, landing on her side and sending grass and dirt littering through the air. Saylor lays on the ground a handful of metres away from me. Saylor groans softly as she rolls to her back and stares up at the darkened sky.

I turn my eyes to Cassius. His angular facial features are lit up with amusement of the scene playing out in front of him. He turns his light brown eyes towards me, raising an eyebrow in question at me. Cassius tilts his head to the side a little in the direction of where Saylor lays on the ground. It’s a silent command of telling me to go to her. As much as it’s me making orders, I roll my eyes and take careful steps towards Saylor.

My feet stop me a short from Saylor and my hands dig into my pockets. One of my hand’s knuckles brush against the necklace hidden away in my pocket, a small reminder that it needs to be around Saylor’s throat before the sun begins to rise in the sky.

I stare down at the woman, taking in her pretty face as she stares up at me through narrowed eyes. I study her for a moment, taking in every feature of her face and taking note that she has some of the same features that Vaughn once had. Her face is round with cheeks that hold a slight fullness to them. Her lips are plump and her nose on the smaller side but perfectly fitting. Her light eyes are surrounded by thick, dark lashes and her eyebrows are a little darker than her hair, perfectly groomed with a slight high arch to them.

Vaughn had never been wrong when he had told us all about his baby sister who has looks that could make any man or supernatural being fall to his knees. Her brother had always said that Saylor’s eyes made her unique but her looks made her innocent in a sultry way, just like their mother. Vaughn had always spoken of his sister, always in the brightest of light. He always spoke about going back to her, swearing that when he had his vampirism under control, he would show back up and explain what happened. He held a guilt of never coming home the night he went out, I had accidentally overheard many conversations in the months he was alive with Darna about it. I almost feel like I knew the Morrison siblings. It is unfortunate that Vaughn’s heart was ripped out before he had even been given the chance to live his new life properly. Saylor will one day learn exactly what happened but that is not today or even the next week, I will keep that little bit of information to myself for now.

“Are you quite done, little pet?” I question her.

“Oh, I’m so far from done,” Saylor says, somehow her eyes narrowing at me more.

“Understood,” A small smile pulling at my lips. I place my hand out towards her. “Let us play nice for a moment, you need to feed to complete the transition,”

“Who says I’m going to feed?” Saylor challenges, her tone defiant.

“I do, Saylor,” I answer, my tone firm and holding a command to it. A command that I know she won’t be able to fight. “Now, get up,”

Saylor all but rolls her eyes at me before she places her small hand in mine. I pull Saylor to her feet like she is nothing but a feather. My tall height makes me feel as though I am towering over her. I keep a firm grip on her hand as I walk her over to the woman that Cassius had compelled to come here. I don’t miss the feeling of her soft hand gripping mine tightly, I’m pretty sure I feel a bone snap in my hand somewhere. It’ll heal just as quickly as she broke it and I don’t think she realises she has. If I were human, I’d be in a lot of pain right now.

I know that Saylor can sense the blood moving through the woman’s veins, I know Saylor can hear the steady heart beat in the woman’s chest as well. The urge to feed will be starting to hit Saylor now, a sense to turn dark and allow that side of her to come out. I turn my head to look down at Saylor, the lightness of her eyes beginning to turn dark as her grip starts to break bones in my hand. I swallow a groan, clenching my teeth and ignore the urge to rip my hand away from hers.

Both Cassius and I understand what she is going through, a hunger that will be taking over her body by now. It’s a hunger like no other, something that makes your body feel as though it is eating itself from the inside out. If Saylor was going through this alone and didn’t understand what was happening to her, she would eat herself out of house and home. The only thing to fill it, to make her feel like she isn’t starving is human blood. It will complete her transition at the same time.

Saylor will have to decide whether she gives into it and completes her new self, or if she decides to allow herself to slowly die. If she chooses to die, Cassius and I will rebury her in the makeshift grave and leaving her in the ground unmarked.

I’m hoping she chooses right.

Chapter Status: Edited