Chapter Text
and the truth of the matter is, i never let you go
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JESSICA
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So here’s the thing, Jessica followed Angela to Texas because it seemed like a good idea. She’d never gone anywhere, and if Pastor’s daughter Angela Webber could up and leave the state with barely an adios, Jess could impulsively tag along on the bizarro little road trip. Only, it was not so much a road trip. They didn't make any cool pitstops, and the only souvenir Jess ended up with was a rainbow tie-dye shirt from Buckee’s, and a block of fudge she spent way too much money on.
Oh, and like, the potential trauma she was definitely about to experience.
Jessica was totally going to get some kind of insurance payout for this absolute insanity. Surely there was like, cult member escapee premium or something with Allstate—at minimum. Like a chunk of change for her to get her life back on track or something.
Angela appeared to be remarkably unbothered, which, in its own way was eerie beyond the psycho talking about God on stage.
Jessica would like to make it clear she didn’t have an issue with religion—she’d ended up here after all—her problem was the wannabe cult leader spewing utter madness about vampires. Angela was nodded along, eyes shining, and Jess felt a little bit like she’d somehow slipped into the twilight zone on their drive down from Forks.
Aghast, she watched in mute horror as Angela eagerly volunteered them for the lock in and the preparation about that. Not only did she feel stupidly out of place, it was becoming increasingly clear that Angela wasn’t.
And what the fuck did that say about Jessica? It’s not like she knew her childhood BFF had a sudden hard-on for vampire hunting. Give her a stake and call her Buffy, because Jessica sure as shit did not sign up for this.
“Angela,” she hissed the second they were out of creepy cult earshot. “What the fuck?!”
Angela had the decency to look embarrassed. “Sorry Jess,” she mumbled. “I was just… I got carried away. With Bella and all…”
Jessica immediately felt like a shit friend. Bella Swan has vanished a few months before the vampires came out of the coffin—mostly after hanging around what Jessica had thought was a creepy cult-y loser named Edward Cullen.
In retrospective, Bella Swan had been hanging out with the creepy cult-y vampire loser Edward Cullen. Jessica was pretty sure that she had done something heinous in her life, because there was really no way she’d run into two completely unrelated cults all on her own. Maybe it was a small town thing? Dallas wasn’t exactly a small town though. Maybe if you squinted and went to the suburbs.
Angela was looking at her like a kicked puppy. Jessica scowled. She’d weasel her way out of this somehow.
Then Steve Newlin opened his fat mouth again. He reminded her of a car sales man. Sleazy, kind of pushy—only Steve Newlin wasn’t selling cars, and Angela was picking up the bullshit he was putting down.
But then again, a traitorous part of her mind whispered. Jessica had only really known of vampires. She’d never met one herself—she’d seen the Cullens of course, and it was impossible not to know what they were. Her mind wandered little, turning a little darker as Steve Newlin kept talking.
He gave her weird vibes. Don’t get sucked into the cult, Jessica.
She’d stabbed Steve Newlin at least 42 times by now. Mentally, obviously. Jessica wasn’t dumb enough to stab him in truth—and she also wasn’t falling for his nonsense either. He gave her the heebie-jeebies. He was giving Joel Osteen.
Or Jim Jones.
Jessica stared, astonished as Angela eagerly nodded along.
“That’s what I was telling Jessica,” Angela agreed. “Our friend Bella, she disappeared in high school. We suspect she fell in with the… wrong crowd.”
Steve Newlin clicked his tongue. “These things happen—the devil is alluring, which is why we have to be stronger then that. God sees all.”
Jessica was going to be sick. “Do you have a bathroom?” she interrupted before he could continue his impromptu lecture on vampirism.
Steve blinked, clearly a little surprised. “Straight down that hall,” he said, pointing.
“Thanks,” she said, trying not to sprint away. She ducked around the corner, fishing for her phone in her pocket. She slid it open, hurriedly sorting through her contacts. She opened the first door she saw, closing it silently behind her as she clicked on Lauren’s name.
Lauren answered on the second ring. “Sup Jess.”
“Send the SWAT,” hissed Jessica, glancing around the room she’d found herself in. It was a staircase, which was fucking bizarre. Carefully, she took a few tentative steps down.
There was some rustling on Lauren’s end. “That bad?”
“That’s an understatement!” Jessica nearly combusted, struggling to keep her voice a whisper. “This is literally a cult.”
“Are we talking People’s temple or Mormon kind of cult?” Lauren asked, a little too casual. Jessica made it to the bottom of the stairs.
“Think Manson family or Heaven’s gate,” muttered Jessica, pushing forward in the relative darkness.
“Oh shit,” said Lauren, sounding a lot more serious. “Are you serious?”
Jessica glared at her phone. “Do I sound like I’m kidding? This Newlin guy gives me the fucking creeps. I feel like he’s about to go all—“
Jessica cut herself off with a shriek. The man’s eyes, nose, mouth and ears were bleeding, metal chains held him down—inside of a cage. It was kind of overkill.
Lauren was shouting her name, terrified. Shakily, Jessica brought the phone back up, and stuttered, “I gotta go. I’ll call you.”
She hung up, sliding her buzzing phone into her pocket as she inched forward. She’d seen a vampire before—Edweird Sullen and his whacko family, first of all. They’d all been ghastly pale, with weird fashion taste and dark circles under their eyes.
They had looked healthy though. Weird, but healthy.
This was different. He looked ill, if not flat out dead. Jessica didn’t know a lot about vampires, but she suspected face bleeding wasn’t a good sign. She hesitated briefly, glancing over her shoulder before she threw all caution to the wind.
“Fuck this,” she mumbled, unlatching the cage door. She stepped in quietly, unable to stop the startled eep that escaped her when the vampire’s head titled, his bloody eyes falling on her face.
Against her better judgement, she grabbed the chains, pulling them off him. He winced, and Jessica immediately felt guilty when she saw the burn marks on his skin.
“What are they doing to you?” she asked sadly, mostly to herself. To him, she asked, “Are you okay?”
The chains removed, his skin started to stitch itself back together. Jessica sat back on her heels. His head flopped to the side and he seemed to lose consciousness.
Jessica was muttering to him, unsure if he could hear her at all. As his body grew colder, so did her fear. She couldn’t say how long she was there—muttering comforting words to a vampire (corpse?) before the buzzing in her pocket grew to be too much. She answered it without looking at the caller ID.
“Hello?” she said, shakily.
“Jess, thank fuck!” Lauren shouted. “I thought you were being chopped up or something. Don’t do that!”
She looked down at the vampire. “There’s a vampire,” she said smartly.
“A vampire?” repeated Lauren.
“A vampire,” confirmed Jessica. “In a cage, under the church.”
“You’re shitting me,” said Lauren.
“He’s bleeding,” said Jessica.
“Okay,” exhaled Lauren. “Okay. First things first, Jess, you need to get back to Angela.”
“I can’t just leave him—“
“You can and you will,” said Lauren harshly. “Get the fuck out of there so you don’t get yourself killed.”
Jessica stood carefully, pushing the chains back with her feet so they weren’t anywhere near the vampire when he woke.
If, her mind whispered mutinously. If he woke up.
She made her way to the staircase, grateful for Lauren’s quick explanation. “You’ve been on the phone with me,” she explained. You are going to keep talking with me until you get to Angela. I’m thinking of coming to visit and was interested so you were telling me how great it is there.”
Jessica swallowed. “It’s great here.”
“Yes,” praised Lauren. “Do you see Ange?”
“Yeah,” said Jessica, voice sounding more normal. “She’s right here.”
Angela glanced over at her approach, looking at her phone. She turned back to the people around her and said, “Jess and her phone.”
Jessica rolled her eyes, but didn’t protest. “Listen, Lauren, I’ll call you back later. It’s great here, you should really come and visit.”
“Was that Lauren?” Angela asked, wrinkling her nose a little.
“Yup,” said Jess. “She wanted to know how Dallas was—get a feel for the area.”
“Lauren is a friend of yours?” one of the members of the cult—er, congregation asked.
Angela have an awkward smile. “Lauren is… troubled. She involved herself with vampires a few years back. I didn’t realize her opinion had changed.”
Internally, Jessica screamed as Angela looked her her, eyes narrowed. She cleared her throat, forcing out the words, “She saw the error of her ways.”
Lauren had not seen an error in anyways. Jessica knew for a fact that Lauren was in some kind of relationship with a vampire named Victoria, and that she was seeing her tonight—like she did every night.
Angela didn’t know that, though. And she’d clearly been under the impression that just because she’d thrown herself into religion, Jessica had too—which meant no Lauren and her gay agenda.
Jessica found the concept of a gay agenda to be hilarious. Lauren Mallory was lucky if she could remember where her car keys went. She didn’t have any kind of agenda. And she wasn’t even gay. Lauren was the straightest person Jessica knew—the Victoria thing had thrown her, but Lauren was a wild child at heart.
Instead of letting Angela dwell too long, Jessica said, “So, the lock-in? What do we need to do to prepare?”
.
QT was a gift from the lord above, decided Jessica, happily drinking her ICEE. She grabbed a case of TruBlood too, on a whim. Jessica didn’t know a lot of vampires, and worst case, she’d have nothing but an awkward moment where the teenager scanning her items looked at the TruBlood case.
Jessica didn’t linger just in case. Part of her—and there was a strong part of her—wanted to throw in the towel and ditch Angela to head back to Seattle. But there was something there, this unhinged panic at the idea of leaving that vampire in the basement. It left a bad taste in her mouth, and she couldn’t bring herself to just leave without at least offering to let him out.
Which was probably an idiotic move. The Cullen’s were about the extent of her interaction with vampires—and that had been minimal. Edward was a total weirdo, going all child predator on Bella Swan. Bella was her own brand of weird, the quiet kid who thought she knew everything. Jessica was still mad about that incident with the bikers—sue her.
Still, the Cullen’s, as far as she was aware, weren’t like, aggressive—or whatever the pre-coffin emerge equivalent was. Lauren hadn’t been much help either, more worried about Jess dying to the Fellowship then a vampire.
Jessica glanced at the TruBlood in her passenger seat. She buckled it in. Just in case.
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GODRIC
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When he woke, it was in much less pain then before, the girl fidgeting nervously with a pack of TruBlood in one hand, and a drink of her own in the other.
She felt his gaze, turning to look at him. She smiled a little, her lips and teeth stained blue. “Hi,” she said, holding out the pack toward him. “I’m Jessica.”
The blood on his shirt had dried already. He looked between Jessica and the chains. Her lips pursed a little, and awkwardly—uncertainly, she set down the case and pushed it toward the cage. Jessica cleared her throat, shifting her weight between her feet, she explained, “I was looking for the bathroom.”
Godric looked at her, watching her nose crinkle as she looked around the room. She was pretty enough. Dark, curly hair, and blue eyes. She had a sweet face.
“I will not hurt you,” he said finally. Her eyes grew a little wider, and she shook her head, her cheeks burning.
“I didn’t think you would,” she insisted, badly. She corrected herself almost immediately, clearly seeing something in his impassive gaze. “Well, maybe a little. I’ve never met a vampire before. Not really.”
Jessica sighed, gesturing toward the TruBlood. “I didn't know what kind to get—so I got a variety pack. I wasn’t sure if vampires had specific flavors they liked better or if it didn’t make a difference.”
He smiled a little. “It tastes different.”
Her smile brightened her face immensely. It was contagious. He liked it. “Oh, good. I um, I can get whatever flavor you like best.”
“Thank you,” he said. “I do not need to feed much, now.”
She frowned a little. “What do you mean?”
“As a vampire ages, they need to feed less,” he explained patiently. He enjoyed the way her face twisted with each thought, her brows furrowing, lips shifting and her nose crinkling.
“Cool,” said Jessica, sipping on her ICEE. “How long have you been all vampire-y? Or is that rude to ask? How old were you when you were turned?”
“I am unsure,” he admitted. “I was considered a man, but I have lost count.”
Jessica considered this for a moment. “So you are super old, huh?”
“I have not met many older then I,” he finally said.
Jessica sat down in front of the cage, stretching her legs out and crossing them at the ankle. “I’m eighteen,” she offered. “And I’m not one of those whackos upstairs. So do me a favor and don’t lump me in with them if you decide to go all Rambo.”
Godric hesitated. “Rambo?”
“Yeah,” said Jessica. “You know, Rambo.”
He did not. “I have not kept up with most human entertainment.”
Jessica set down her ICEE. “We’ll work on that,” she told him simply. “I’ll make some playlists for you.”
.
She did. The next night, she returned with a CD player in hand. The CD inside had a loopy handwriting, little hearts over the ‘i’s, it read: songs for the vampire under the church. A little smiley face was drawn at the end, and Godric realized he never told her his name.
“My name is Godric,” he said.
Jessica blinked. “Oh, huh. Wasn’t expecting that. Godric? Really?”
He fought the grin, desperately. “What were you expecting?”
She shrugged. “Something more… old.”
He laughed, startling himself just as much as her. She smiled shyly, setting up the CD player carefully. “I am sorry to disappoint,” he said.
“Not to worry,” she said a little hastily. “I started with the 70s, since anything before that I start getting a little iffy on. I’ll look into it more though, if you want. There’s a lot of ABBA, I tried to pick stuff I knew was good.”
“ABBA?” Godric asked, taking the headphones from Jessica carefully.
“Swedish band,” she explained. “I like them.”
“What else do you like?” he found himself asking.
Her cheeks burned red. Her expression shifted slightly, and she sat on her knees, leaning forward a little. Her slender arms came through the bars, reaching to adjust the headphones on his head. Her fingers brushed against his face gently, and she smoothed out his hair a little before pulling away. He held still, afraid of moving and ruining whatever moment was happening. “Lots of things,” she mumbled.
Jessica pressed play before either of them said anything further. He listened carefully, watching Jessica’s face. Her eyes were bright, and she chewed on her bottom lip nervously as she picked at her nail polish. He liked the music well enough, not finding any of it particularly notable.
After the second song ended, he slipped off the headphones and asked her, “How many songs have you added?”
The blush went all the way down to her neck, and a little flustered, Jessica mumbled, “27.”
He liked this little human.
“I will listen to them when you are gone,” he decided. “Will you tell me about yourself?”
Her eyebrows furrowed. “Not much to tell. I came to Dallas because I thought it was kind of dumb I’d never been anywhere.”
“Where did you want to go?” he inquired politely.
“Where don’t I,” she laughed. “I kind of want to go everywhere. My family moved from middle of nowhere California to Forks when I was five.”
“Forks?” he asked. The name rang a bell, tickling something in his mind, just out of reach. “Where is Forks?”
“Washington,” said Jessica. “I don’t blame you for not knowing about it, it’s not exactly a tourist trap.”
“No,” he said slowly. “I have heard of it. There are some… unconventional vampires that reside there on occasion.”
“The Cullen’s?” Jessica asked, looking only vaguely interested.
Godric frowned. “Yes, that is what they call themselves. Have you interacted with them before?”
It would explain her laid back attitude towards him. The Cullen’s were a little infamous about their steadfast approach in refusing to feed from humans. They were ‘mainstreaming’ before that was a term, choosing to survive off animals instead of humans.
“God no. They are super weird,” said Jessica. “Edweird stalked the new girl for like, half a year before she just up an disappeared. Vampires came out of the coffin shortly after. We put the pieces together after that.”
Godric blinked, slightly bewildered at her explanation. “Ed…weird?”
Jessica scratched the back of her head. “Uh,” she said. “Edward. Sorry. The guy gave me the creeps. Bella was super cagey about the whole thing. He looked like he wanted to eat her and not date her.”
“Both are strong possibilities,” said Godric, a little cryptically.
Jessica didn’t say anything for a long minute, when she did, the change in topic startled him a little. “So, do you want me to let you go, or something? I’m sorry I didn’t offer earlier, I was a little freaked out. I was going to leave earlier but I didn’t want to go without… offering.”
“You are leaving?” he asked, squashing down his disappointment.
“Well,” began Jessica. “No. I was. But I don’t think I should leave Angela. It feels kind of, I don’t know, gross to just ditch her or something? Like, we came all this way together—and yeah, she’s not exactly been a great friend lately, but I can’t just leave her behind to get sucked into this vampire hating cult.”
There was a lot to unpack there.
“You do not need to let me out,” he said.
Jessica looked unconvinced. “You want me to leave you locked up in a cage, under a church full of people who hate you?”
“I believe humans and my kind can learn to coexist,” he said quietly. He wasn’t sure completely why he was telling her this, it would be better if he just made her leave.
And yet.
“Sure,” she agreed easily. “I think the same. But I don’t think that letting yourself be chained up in the basement of a bunch of… fascists, is a good way to go about it.”
“How else would I?” he asked.
She shrugged a little. “I dunno, stage a protest—organize a food drive. Help the community. Most humans haven’t even met a vampire, so everything we know about you guys is from horror movies or shitty romance novels that I refuse to believe are accurate. You can set the narrative, you know?”
When he didn’t say anything to that, she back peddled a little. “You probably know better then I do though. You’re probably older then my grandparents. I must look really naive, huh?”
“No,” he said. “I find it endearing.”
He enjoyed the blush he received.
.
JESSICA
.
Jessica was totally screwed. Ignoring the issue with the cult—and the unnervingly attractive, borderline pacifist vampire locked under said cult’s place of operation, there was also the issue of Angela.
Angela was going off the deep end, and honestly, Jessica wasn’t even sure where to begin. Lauren was about to have an aneurysm, to top it all off.
Ben had called her. She missed it. Jessica had been curled up under a tree, half asleep as she tried to catch up. She’d gone to bed extra late last night, and woke up extra early via Angela. Sweet, insane Angela who had eagerly volunteered them both for literally everything. Sarah Newlin was teaching her how to bake.
Jessica got put on construction duty. Obviously, she would not be participating in that. The guy doing the bulk work, a cutie named Jason had grinned at her dubious look, giving her a hammer and some nails before his gaze slid over to the tree. It was close enough that if she was called she would hear—but nobody would see her unless looking.
For a total zealot, Jason wasn’t so bad. If she was honest—and she wouldn’t be to anyone here, she didn’t get the fuss. Steve Newlin’s hatred made sense in a weird sort of way. His family had been murdered. It wasn’t clear why Jason was involved with the Fellowship, but Jessica suspected his reasons weren’t nearly as dramatic.
Most of the stories she’d heard were secondhand. Richard’s coworker’s wife left him to become a fangbanger. Amanda’s high school friend became a vampire and nobody saw him again.
Angela talked about Bella when anyone asked.
Jessica didn’t say anything—but she found the whole thing to be incredibly distasteful. Bella Swan had been going through something when Jess had known her. And she suspected it had very little to do with Edweird Sullen and more to do with the fact that her mom had dumped her with her estranged biological father to go travel the country with her new husband.
On some levels, Jessica could relate to Bella. Child of divorce, childish mother and absent father. Jess thought about her sometimes, in a distant, cold way. Bella had disappeared senior year. At the time, it had caused utter madness in the town. Rumors ran rampant. Charlie Swan was a shell of a man in the months that followed.
If she was honest, Jessica had always assumed Edward had either convinced her to run away with him, or killed her.
It was a little bizarre to realize it could be both of those things at once. She didn’t know for sure if Bella had become a vampire, or just vampire food. But the situation wasn’t traumatic for her, or for Angela, she didn’t think. Bella had been remarkably removed, detached from everyone and everything leading up to her disappearance. The person who’d Jessica had formed a delicate friendship with had disappeared long before she was officially gone.
Jessica had settled against the tree, and passed out. She was perfectly fine, thank you very much—only she’d missed Ben calling.
Ben didn’t call Jess. It was a thing. They didn’t speak. What did you even say at a certain point? Jessica certainly didn’t know, but she strongly suspected, ‘Hey sorry your girlfriend ran away to a different state to join a vampire hating cult while you decided to join a campaign supporting a politician who wanted equal rights for everyone! Also sorry I went with her.’
It just fell a little flat, is all.
Lauren was probably the answer—almost certainly the answer. Ben and Lauren had known each other since they were in diapers. Lauren had grown up to be a tall, pretty blonde with a mean streak a mile long. Ben was a dorky nerd who liked to take pictures. Lauren said it was a cosmic connection. Ben said it was forced proximity.
Whatever it was, Jessica privately thought it would be the thing that would destroy all their future relationships. They weren’t together, and they probably wouldn’t ever be—but Jessica didn’t think anyone would love Ben more then Lauren did, and vice versa.
As Lauren put it, sandbox love never dies.
And Jessica Stanley had a missed call from Ben Cheney.
Lauren was such a snitch.
Jess rolled her eyes, dialing Ben’s number on muscle memory alone. He answered on the first ring.
“Jess,” he said. Jess winced at his tone.
“What’s up?” she said, forcing herself to sound casual.
“Please tell me you didn’t,” he said.
“I didn’t,” she said slowly. Ben sighed. “Lauren is such a snitch.”
“You can’t stay there,” said Ben. “I know you, Jessica. You don’t believe that shit anymore then me or Lauren.”
“I know,” said Jessica. “I can’t exactly skip off into the sunset though. I think it’s worse if I just leave.”
“Angela’s made her choice,” said Ben, a little harshly.
Jessica’s stomach swooped. She hadn’t even thought about Angela, her thoughts far more preoccupied with Godric.
She wondered if vampires dreamed.
“I can’t just leave,” said Jessica quietly. She glanced around, locking eyes with Jason. Quickly she told Ben, “Hey, I gotta go.”
She hung up quickly, sighing and rubbing her face with her free hand. She shoved her phone into her pocket, marching over to the now nearly completed project. Jessica fished the nails out of her pocket, offering them with a sunny smile. “Need some nails with your wood?”
Jason grinned at her, holding out a hand. “Nice nap?”
“The best,” said Jessica. “I had a dream that my house was made of strawberry ice cream.”
“There’s a Braums around here somewhere,” chimed in one of the guys. Jason looked at him out of the corner of his eye.
“Never been,” she admitted. “I’m from Washington.”
The man chortled a little. “You try Whataburger yet?”
“No,” she said. “Is it any good?”
“Shit girl,” he said. “I’ll take you right now. Is it good. Jason, she’s out here askin’ if Whataburger’s any good.”
“He’s right,” Jason agreed with a smirk. “First rule of visiting Texas—gotta stop at Whataburger.”
“I thought it was Buckees?” asked Jess, a little hesitant. She didn’t like how friendly they were being. She had to remind herself that this was a racist cult. “And anyway, I can’t just leave Angela. Thanks for the offer, maybe another time.”
Jessica’s gotten really good at rejecting people. She wandered inside, her eyes drifting to the door that led down to Godric.
She tried not to think about him too hard.
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GODRIC
.
Four days. It took Jessica Stanley four days to worm her way under his skin, and plant herself there. He found her in his thoughts constantly, she had crept up on him and entangled herself in his every breath, every thought.
“So?” she prodded, crossing her legs. Her glanced at her, bemusement clear on his face. Her socks weren’t matching, one a bright pink with purple polka-dots that went to her knee, the other a plain white that just passed her ankle. Her shoes had robots doodled on them in sharpie, and her shirt was an obnoxious yellow color. Jessica stretched out her arm, admiring her fresh application of nail polish. It was a sparkly blue. “Which are you?”
Godric wondered, rather passively, if this was a new fashion trend he’d missed—or if it was something uniquely Jessica.
He blinked, his eyes falling back to her face. Her hair was thrown into a messy bun, her lips red from the berries she’d grabbed as a late snack. “What?” he finally said, forcing himself back to reality.
Jessica rolled her eyes, leaning forward as she gestured to the CD player in his lap. Her headphones blared the music still, slung around his neck. He could hear the pluck of the guitar and the beat of the drums—and all he could really think about was her.
She looked ridiculous.
If he was human, his cheeks would be red and his pulse would be racing. Jessica said, “The song. He tells her that he can’t love her because he loves the sea too much. So, what kind of guy are you? Do you pick the sea or the girl?”
He’s saved from answering by her phone ringing. The Backstreet Boys proclaiming rather loudly that they are back. Jessica cursed, knocking over her bottle of nail polish. This led to more cursing, as she stood quickly, eyeing her phone with a look of regret.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “It’s Angela—she’s gonna freak if she realizes I’m down here. Listen, I’ll come back as soon as I can with a bottle of TruBlood. You like O positive?”
Godric found TruBlood to be repulsive, but he certainly wouldn’t tell her that. “O positive is fine,” he said, pleased to see her expression brighten.
Jessica nodded. “Okay, cool. I’ll be back in a little, listen to the whole playlist please. I made that CD for you.”
He did as instructed, listening to the playlist twice before she came back—bottle of TruBlood in hand.
“Which was your favorite?” she asked, passing him the bottle through the bars. He was mesmerized by her. Her cheeks and nose were sunburnt, her hair in a tangled braid.
“The fifth one,” he answered. He wasn’t sure of the name, and was ready to hum the tune or say the lyrics. She figured it out quickly, her nose crinkling a little.
“Huh,” she mused. “I wouldn’t have taken you for a Glen Campbell fan.”
She was, by far, the most bizarre individual he had ever encountered. Jessica sat in front of him again, crossing her legs. “So, funny story—the guys up top are planning on tying you to a cross and put you in the sun. Know anything about that?”
Godric cringed.
“So?” Jessica tapped her foot, hands on her hips. Godric looked at her, the fear of disappointing her a little overwhelming.
Finally, he admitted, “It is true. I had intended to meet the sun.”
A whoosh of air left Jessica, and she deflated. Her lips turned down, her shoulders slumped. “Godric,” she said, voice a little shaky. “What the hell, man?”
“That was before,” he found himself saying.
Jessica gave a watery smile. “I just don’t really like getting attached to people that are just gonna leave, you know?”
Silently, he swore he would never leave her. He couldn’t describe how this madness had begun, only that it had—and as easy as breathing, Jessica had waltzed into his life and made it a little brighter.
A stray curl fell into her eyes. Jessica pushed it behind her ear. He watched, fascinated as it sprung forward again a few moments later, and she repeated the motion without thinking.
“I have no intention of leaving you,” he said finally. Jessica smiled a little, looking down at her shoes—the one with the robots on them. Godric wanted to crawl inside of her mind and live there, to see the world as she did. He wanted to know why she picked robots instead of something else, why the only music she would listen to after 1990 was the Backstreet Boys, why she wore mixed matched socks but never shoes, why she stayed here—he wanted to know if it was because of him or someone else. He wanted to know if he offered her forever, would she accept?
“Good,” she mumbled. She brightened a little, holding up a bottle of glittery nail polish. “Can I paint your nails?”
“Yes,” he said quickly. Jessica scooted forward, sticking her arms through the bars. He hand out his hand, swallowing thickly at the warmth of her skin against his. He forced himself to pay attention to the nail polish, the chemical smell and the way she carefully rolled off the excess on the inside of the bottle. Jessica painted his nails carefully, her pink tongue poking through her lips as she concentrated.
He wanted to taste her.
“Why pink?” he wondered, forcing himself to think of something other then what she might taste like. She smelled like cinnamon.
“I like pink,” she said, smiling through her eyelashes. He was going to eat her, he decided, admiring the light dusting of freckles across her nose. “And I like you too. Two things I like.”
Correction, Godric was going to consume her. He was going to drink her blood and taste every inch of her—then he was going to keep her forever if she let him. He was a good maker, a caring one. He’d keep Jessica forever.
“What are you thinking about?” she asked. He imagined her tongue would taste sweet, maybe as sweet as her blood.
“You,” he said.
“Me?” she asked, laughing a little. “Why are you thinking about me?”
Because you haunt me, he thought. You have somehow worked your way into my every thought. I can’t escape you.
He struggled to find the right words—the right pattern that wouldn’t make her upset or terrified. “I think about you most of the time,” he said instead of everything else he wanted to say.
Jessica sat back a little. She smiled, a little shyly. “I think about you too.”
He would taste her lips first, he decided. Jessica sat back, a little smile on her face. She focused on innocuous topics, but there was a look in her eye that he didn’t like. She kept glancing at the cage he was in, her eyes a little wide as she looked at it.
Jessica Stanley was the worst liar he’d ever met. He wondered how the Fellowship hadn’t sniffed her out yet. It was painfully clear that the only prejudice Jessica held was directed toward people she thought weren’t using all their intelligence. She directed the conversation back to music, moving forward to sit on her stomach. She had a small notebook in front of her, and she was writing something down.
“So, we’ve got Glen Campbell, Johnny Cash—you liked Hank Williams, right?” Jessica brought the pen to her lips, nibbling on the end. Godric’s eyes lingered on her lips.
“Hank Williams,” he repeated. Jessica grinned a little, bringing the pen forward to tap her pen against the notebook. A gleeful smile crossed her face, and she pushed herself to her knees. Godric swallowed, suddenly very aware that he’d thought of her like this before, though the context had been different.
He looked at the notebook.
Jessica said, “Oh my god—you are a total cowboy! You like country music! No wonder you ended up in the South.”
“I have always appreciated it,” he admitted. “Though I never bothered much with it.”
“Where are you from anyway?” Jessica asked. “I never asked. Sorry, I guess I talked about myself a lot those first few nights.”
If he was honest, he’d been glad for it. He liked knowing things about her—about her home.
“Gaul,” he said. “Now it is somewhere in France.”
Jessica looked exhilarated. He would have told her much sooner if he’d known it would have delighted her so much.
“Godric,” she said salaciously, obviously referencing something. “That’s French!”
He shared a smile with her, even though he didn’t understand her reference—he knew it was one. In some ways, this was what mattered.
Jessica said, “Remind me to show you the Addams family—not the black and white one, the one with Angelica Houston.”
“Okay,” he agreed easily, and Jessica went back to scribbling in her notebook. The glitter on her nails caught the light. His nails sparkled too.
It went like that for a while, Jessica’s pen scrawling across the paper. She yawned.
He had started to hate 1am. Jessica, silly, strange Jessica, was not a night person. She faded as the night wore on, and every night, at 1am, he saw it catch up to her. He hated it when she had to leave.
Jessica yawned, speaking through it. “Lauren thinks I should leave.”
His heart plummeted so far so quickly it threatened to fall out of him completely. “Will you?”
She gave him a look, covering her mouth as she yawned again. “No,” she said sleepily. “I wouldn’t do that.”
“You have no reason to stay,” he said. He did not dare imagine his interest in her was reciprocated.
Jessica’s brow furrowed, she looked at him like he was stupid. Maybe he was, he certainly felt kind of stupid around her sometimes. “There’s you.”
She said it so simply, so easily it took his breath away. Jessica stated this like it was something he should have known, like it was obvious. And in some ways, it was. She’d stayed with him every night since that first day—smuggling him bottle of TruBlood he wouldn’t drink. Jessica painted his nails, doodled pictures for him, showed him her favorite songs and made playlists specifically for him. She told him stories about her life and silly jokes she knew—and Godric was entranced by her.
He was utterly enthralled by this tiny human.
“You make everything a little easier,” she said after a minute. “And staying here, I’m kind of like a sleeper cell against the crazies.”
He had a billion things he wanted to say to her. He settled on, “You should get some sleep.”
Jessica’s face fell a little, but she dutifully grabbed her things—careful to not leave anything too outwardly obvious that she’d been there. She stood there for a minute, hesitating. She shifted on her feet, rolling one of her ankles in and out as she shifted her weight.
“You didn’t drink much,” she said quickly, her cheeks red.
“Yes,” he agreed.
“Aren’t you hungry, though?”
He was ravenous. He didn’t dare speak.
Jessica glanced at the bottle, her blue eyes a little wide as she nibbled on her bottom lip. Wordlessly, she held out her arm.
He didn’t so much as breathe.
Jessica twitched slightly, shifting her weight. “You could—I mean, if you are hungry—I could. I just don’t want you to be miserable—and it’s basically like going to a blood drive but this is more direct, and, and—I just, I know this whole thing is weird and I’m technically—well, I’m like really not part of this madness, you know, and I kind of really like you and I feel awful thinking you are down here starving.”
She stumbled over her words, her voice coming quickly and quietly. Her voice was heavy with exhaustion.
“Jessica,” he said, ending her rambling. “Go to sleep.”
Her eyes misted over, and he was left with the horrendous feeling he’d said the wrong thing to her. She bobbed her head, and his mind whirled as she took off. He watched her leave, something churning in his chest.
He didn’t dare try to name it.
.
JESSICA
.
She made it all the way back to her room, took off her shoes and laid on her bed before she made up her mind all the way. Jessica left her room quicker then she entered it, her bedside alarm clock reading 1:37am. She tiptoed down the stairs, carefully avoiding the creeky steps.
It was clear by the look on his face he hadn’t expected her to come back.
“Jessi—“ she cut him off by opening the cage, glaring at him.
“You need to eat something,” she insisted. It was almost an out of body experience. Even she wasn’t sure what she would do next. She stepped inside, moving to stand close enough that all he’d have to do is lean forward a little to kiss her. Or bite her. “If you won’t drink the TruBlood I got you, at least accept this.”
His expression was unreadable—most of them were, but Jessica liked to think she’d become semi proficient in Godric’s subtle cues. The slightest raise of his eyebrows, a minor quirk of the lip, the way he looked at her.
She wasn’t sure about his current face, even when his fangs popped out with a little click. She swallowed, gesturing at him before she could lose her nerve.
“Well,” she said. “Get to it.“
His hand came up gently, slowly brushing her hair away from her throat. The way he was looking at her made her feel exposed—naked. She’d never had a guy look at her that way before.
“Jessica,” he began, clearly prepared to talk her out of this.
Jessica scowled. “Bite me, Fangboy.”
He did.
It wasn’t altogether unpleasant. His breath was cool against her skin, his lips smooth. It hadn’t even hurt when his fangs broke her skin. He pulled her against him, smushing her arms between their bodies. She sighed, his hands trailing down her back. Godric pulled away suddenly, his lips red. There was something in his gaze that was intense. His cheeks looked flushed, his eyes a little brighter. He looked more alive.
He brought a hand to his mouth, breaking the skin on his thumb before bringing it to her lip.
“Godric,” she said, protesting.
“You will be in danger if they see,” he said. He brought his thumb up, wiping it over her parted lips.
It tasted sweet, and she felt energized almost immediately. She got the whole fangbanger thing, suddenly.
Godric ruined it. “I have never shared my blood this way.”
Jessica blinked, suddenly aware of how close he was to her. His hands on her lips, his lips so close to hers. She tried to play off the thudding in her chest, her voice remarkably steady as she asked, “What do you mean?”
“The blood is sacred,” he said seriously. “I shared blood with my progeny, and no human before. You should know, there will be side effects.”
“Side effects?” she squeaked.
“Nothing bad,” he reassured her. “But you will dream of me, and I can… sense… your emotions.”
Jessica wasn’t sure what to make of that. “Is it permanent?”
“No,” he said. “It takes three exchanges of blood for the bond to become permanent. It becomes more intense, as well.”
She had a lot of thoughts, but mostly— “Three times? Why three? That’s kind of an odd number. Is it the amount of blood or just three times? I’m serious, don’t look at me like that—why is it three and not like, seven, or something? What makes three times so special?”
“Once is an accident. Twice is a coincidence, thrice is a pattern,” he said.
While a sweet sentiment, Jessica needed a more concrete answer.
“That’s a terrible explanation.”
He looked a little helpless. She took pity on him. Jessica fiddled with a lose strand of hair. “I should go to bed, before anyone realizes I’m gone.”
“Sleep well,” he said. His eyes never left her, and she was pleased she only looked back at him once.
.
She woke breathless, her heart hammering in her chest as she sat up. By far, that had been the most intense dream she had ever experienced. Godric had mentioned dreams—he neglected to tell her it would feel so visceral, so intense. Her heart pounded, and shakily, she grabbed at the water bottle on her bedside. It was four in the morning. Silently, she swung her legs to the side of her bed, careful to dodge the creaky floorboard.
She was downstairs in record time. Godric’s eyes followed her, taking in her disheveled appearance.
“What the fuck was that?” she demanded. “I mean, when you said dreams—I wasn’t picturing that.”
He looked bashful, slightly ashamed, even. “They do tend to be more, sexual in nature.”
Jessica stared. “It wasn’t.”
He glanced at her. She blushed. “Well, I mean—kind of, but not like, what you are thinking. It just, it seemed so real. You barely touched me and I can still feel it. I feel like it really happened.”
He didn’t say anything for a minute. Jessica floundered a little. “Is it because you are old?”
“In part,” he said. “Though my feelings for you do not help. I am sorry.”
She screamed internally. “Feelings?”
“Yes,” he said evenly. “My feelings for you are particularly strong. I did not realize it would effect your dreams so potently. I apologize for the inconvenience.”
“No,” she said quickly. “It’s no inconvenience. I just, I didn’t know what you meant and this was, unexpected. You have feelings for me?”
“Of course I do,” he said slowly. “I have feelings regarding most things, most people.”
“Yeah, but like, what kind?” she felt a little exhilarated.
“I assumed that was obvious,” he said lightly. “I have only shared my blood with two others. Both people who I intended to turn.”
She swallowed. “Do you? Intend to turn me?”
She wasn’t sure she was ready for the answer, whatever it would be.
“Jessica,” said Godric. “You asked me once, which I would chose.”
Jessica blinked, feeling a little wild as she struggled to figure out what he was referring too.
“The girl,” he said, his eyes intense on her face. “Or the sea.”
“Oh,” she said, her heart clenching. She didn’t think Godric was the type to pick the girl. Jessica wished the ground would swallow her whole. She looked down.
“My Jessica,” he said softly. “I would be nothing less then a fool if I picked anything over you.”
“Oh,” she said softly.
Godric said, “I would burn the world if you asked. I would do whatever you wanted. If you want to live out a human life, or a vampire one. I would give you whatever you desired. All you need to do is ask.”
She felt impossibly close to him. She was across the room, by the door, and their hushed conversation echoed in her very bones. The certainty in his voice left something wild rushing through her veins. She heard herself say, “I’ll need to tell Lauren.”
Godric’s brow furrowed a little, his gaze intense. “Lauren is your friend with the vampire?”
“Yeah,” she agreed. She’d moved forward, almost unconsciously. Her fingers wrapped around the silver bars of the cage. Godric hovered as close as he could without touching it. Jessica could feel his breath on her face.
He looked like he wanted to say something to her. Jessica couldn’t fathom what.
“Doesn’t matter,” she said. “We’ll need to leave here.”
His eyes were dark and mesmerizing and Jessica wondered if it would be possible to drown in them. “I need to pack,” she realized.
Godric exhaled slowly. “Tomorrow,” he decided. “Sunset.”
Jessica swallowed, nodding a little shakily. “Okay.”