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Frida heaved a great sigh, lounging back against the air conditioning unit. Her sigh plumed out visibly before her, carrying the noxious smoke of the cigarette she’d snuck up here to smoke. Hotel Carmilla paid well enough to keep her coming in to work, but nowhere near enough for her to spend her precious breaks in the designated break room with the vapid, atmosphere-deaf Jolene, and the catty, bitchy Jessica who fully intended to become a vampire and had no time for her lowly human colleagues. There were a couple of other staff flitting in and out tonight, but none of them wanted to stay around the terrible twosome either. So yeah, she fully intended to enjoy ruining her lungs in the solitude of the off-limits rooftop. She took another long drag of the cigarette.
It was a filthy habit. A fairly recent one she’d picked up deliberately in the wake of her mother’s suicide. When she wanted to throw in the towel, but couldn’t because she had a brother, a young niece and nephew, and she couldn’t do that to them. Her brother was grown, but the loss of their mamma had shaken him to his core, just as it had rocked the foundations of Frida’s soul. Losing her too would have broken him. So in compromise with the part of herself that was chewing itself up, didn’t want to be here, she picked up the cigarettes. A gamble, a concession. If they killed her, it would likely be slow, drawn out, and give them time to regroup after mamma. And she could tell herself it wasn’t at her own hand. If it didn’t, then she was obviously meant to live. She would never tell her brother this. She took another drag.
Before she could puff the lungful of smoke into the air and watch it fall apart as it stretched for the stars, she heard the rooftop door open. Not supposed to be up here Frida froze, trying not to make a sound. If it was a vampire her efforts would be for naught. They’d hear her heartbeat pounding with the nervous excitement of maybe being caught doing something naughty. They’d smell her smoke, hell, they’d smell her own human scent! But if it was her human supervisor Charles, or his brown-nosing little minion Steph, she was out of sight, the air-con unit between her back and the door, so she might just get away with it. She stubbed out her cigarette quickly, and wafted her hand to disperse the smoke trail. Lungs burning, she had to slowly release her drag of smoke. She wafted frantically at that too. Thin eddies of smoke were much less visible than a dense plume in the darkness.
A voice came from the edge of the roof to her left, and she curled herself a little tighter, hoping that the speaker wouldn’t move any further around and spot her.
“Two thousand years is enough.”
The voice sounded calm, maybe a little sad, and it set her heart racing. Two thousand years would be incredibly old, even for a vampire. Working in a vampire hotel Frida had gotten to know a fair bit about the nightwalkers. They were aggressive, more so even than humans. Something about the change heightened their emotions. This meant that they often ended up killing one another over petty things. If this voice was a vampire, talking about his own age, he would be incredibly strong.
A second voice came, strained and desperate.
“I can’t accept this! It’s insanity!”
Frida felt awkward. An uninvited voyeur in this tense moment. She wasn’t sure what was happening, but she knew she shouldn’t be witnessing it. If they were indeed vampires as she suspected, they were clearly too overcome by their own drama that they hadn’t registered her scent and heartbeat. She should get up, let them know they weren’t alone. But an emotional vampire was a dangerous vampire, and though she was still ambivalent about life, this was too soon. Too soon for her family, and maybe, now the threat was really upon her...too soon for her?
“Our existence is insanity. We don’t belong here.”
Calm-voice sounded like he was trying to placate overwrought-voice, his tone gentle and conciliatory, but overwrought-voice was having none of it, his rejoinder passionate and pleading.
“But we are here!”
“It’s not right. we’re not right.”
Dear gods, was she witnessing the suicide of a two thousand year old vampire?
“You taught me that there was no right or wrong, only survival or death!”
Her heart clenched. That could only be the plea of a childe for their maker not to leave them. Was this how her family would feel if she went ahead and took her life? She knew how she had felt when mamma left them, that adding another loss so soon would crush her family, but hearing this really hammered the reality home. She felt a sick guilt in the pit of her stomach. Guilt for her vague welcoming of death, and guilt for intruding unknown and unnoticed on this intensely private event.
“I told a lie as it turns out”
God, he was so placid, she couldn’t hear a trace of fear of the unknown in his voice. She didn’t want him to die. This unknown ancient vampire. Frida wanted him to live, to stay beside his childe and embrace life...er, existence. It was a bizarre thing to think. What right did she, who had just this moment decided she wanted to live, have to tell anyone else that they should live? But she wanted to.
“I will keep you alive by force!”
The voice wanted to be angry, but only managed to sound desperate and very young. It was absolute madness, but Frida wanted to hug a dangerous, upset, unknown vampire. Maybe she was still suicidal.
“Even if you could, why would you be so cruel?”
She had no idea what had brought two thousand years of existence to this point, and not the first clue what a lowly Swedish-American chambermaid with fourteen hundred dollars in her savings account, a rusty green pickup truck, an actually really decent two bedroom apartment, and three cats could do to help, but she wanted to. Gods she wanted to.
“Godric, don’t do it.”
The voice was weeping quietly now, and her brain was too busy freaking out that this suicidal elder was apparently Godric, The Gaul, sheriff of the Dallas vampires, to register that the weeper, who must be his progeny, Eric the Northman, had spoken in her native tongue until Godric spoke again, this time also in Swedish.
“There are centuries of faith and love between us.”
While worrying about the outcome of this messed up scenario she had no business overhearing, a part of her brain was pleased that her homeland was also apparently a thousand years ago Eric’s homeland, and hers was the language he’d lapsed into in his distraught state. She shouldn’t be here, but she was, so she was pleased she could understand them.
The Northman was outright sobbing now, and her guilt and fear rose in tandem. Guilt for seeing this without their consent, and fear that she would be killed if they caught her now, having witnessed his break down.
“Please. Please! Please Godric!”
“Father. Brother. Son.”
He switched back to English, voice soft as breath.
“Let me go.”
She bit the inside of her cheek hard and crushed her hands over her face to fight down a sob. God, what had brought him to this point? Was two thousand years truly just too long for the mind of someone who had been born human to handle?
“I won’t let you die alone.”
Eric’s voice was resolute though he was still breathing shakily. He was truly willing to leave the world behind, though he clearly wasn’t ready, just to stay by his maker’s side. It was tragically beautiful.
“Yes you will. As your maker. I command you.”
Frida cringed. She knew about the maker’s command. No matter how much he wanted to, the Viking would have no choice but to seek the safety darkness of indoors. The sky was starting to glow a washed out grey, a sure sign of the iminent dawn.
There was a devastated growl and heavy footsteps. Was she about to be left alone with Godric? Perhaps she could talk to him, help him, anything! But apparently it wasn’t to be. She heard an unexpected third voice, this one soft and feminine. Seems like she hadn’t been the only witness, though this one had apparently been known.
“I’ll stay with him. As long as it takes.”
If she’s willing and being allowed to stay she can’t be a vampire. Maybe it’d still be okay for Frida to show herself? Her break was long since over, but right now she couldn’t care less about any disciplinary action that might be coming her way. She would certainly care tomorrow if she was fired though. Molly would only eat that posh gourmet cat food, and that stuff wasn’t cheap! And she needed money for shiny dice sets, and pretty plants for her window boxes and pots! But right now all her needs were an afterthought.
Taking her life in her hands Alfrida swallowed, for some reason ran her fingers through her blonde hair to smooth it-as if he cared what she looked like-and grabbed the top of the air-con unit to pull herself shakily to her feet. She didn’t let go, her knees felt like rubber.
The redhead cleared her throat politely, and two faces shot round to pin her with their eyes. A deep breath did absolutely nothing to calm her but she figured it was the thought that counted or something. Honestly she was so panicked she wasn’t entirely sure half her thoughts made a lick of sense right now. Well she had their attention, she guessed that now was the time to speak.
“Ahh...please excuse my terribly rude eavesdropping sheriff. I was sitting down here taking my break when you arrived and I was a little afraid your progeny might kill me if I revealed myself, he was so overwrought.”
Okay! Apology and explanation somewhat intelligibly delivered, she nervously awaited his verdict. He seemed very placid, and ducked his head minutely at her reasoning, so hopefully he wouldn’t just pitch her off the roof. Her heart rate kicked up a notch at the thought.
“Peace child. Your heart need not pound like a jackrabbit’s. I will not hurt you. I will never hurt anyone again.”
A serene smile crossed his youthful face, and she hated to be the cause of it vanishing, but she couldn’t let that statement stand.
“I’m sorry Mr Godric but that’s just not true.”
His stormy grey eyes bored into her, surrounded by thick dark lashes.
“Oh?”
“If you do this, you’re going to hurt Eric. You’re going to hurt him really, really badly. You’re going to leave a wound that’s like a gnawing pit inside him filled with sharp things. He’ll think often of following you, and unless he has a strong enough anchor to life, sooner or later he probably will. Even if he doesn’t outright commit suicide, he’ll take risks, be less careful, he’ll tell himself it’s because there just wasn’t time, or he was the only one for the job, but really he just won’t care if he dies.”
Her voice got faster and faster as she talked, the pitch rising, and she was humiliated to realise that the hot feeling in her eyes, and prickling in her sinuses were because big warm tears were rolling down her flushed cheeks. She scrubbed roughly at the moisture, and in the next moment Godric was in front of her, soothing her alarmed flinch and gently brushing at her cheeks with a white handkerchief he seemed to pull from thin air.
“You, a human who has never before known me, would shed human tears for me?”
He sounded bewildered as he scanned her face as though the answers to the universe were written in her freckles.
“Yes. I’d cry for you, and I’d definitely cry for Eric, any other progeny you have, and any progeny they have. Four months ago my mamma killed herself, and it destroyed our family. Please, the sun is coming, please go inside. I don’t know what brought you to this point, but if you decide you still want to do this, the sun isn’t going anywhere. You can do it tomorrow, just please give me the chance to persuade you!”
The tears still spilled, and the vampire still dabbed at them looking uncertain. She cast a panicked eye at the horizon.
“Just give me a chance! Come to my apartment and meet my cats, let’s go for a walk in the woods and look for pine cones and pretty rocks, let me teach you how to grow flowers, play dungeons and dragons, do you know how to drive a go-kart?”
The pretty blonde standing to the side was nodding emphatically along with her words.
“She’s right Godric! Eric will be a terror if he loses you, would you like to learn how to crochet? Gran taught me, I’d be honoured to pass it on to you.”
Frida was trying to gently tug him over to the other woman, and the door, though she’d have had about as much luck pulling the Sphinx. Hesitantly, the youthful looking vampire nodded, allowing her tugging to shift him. Decision made, Godric apparently rallied his scattered faculties and scooped her gently off her feet. Zipping past, he swept up the blonde, carted both of them inside the building, and shut the door just as a ray of sun crested the horizon. Frida trembled from the release of adrenaline.
She knew Godric was far from convinced, but she had a stay of execution, pardon her black sense of humour. She had time. A chance. Now she only had to get him settled for the day and see if she was fired. Then make him want to live. No big deal. How was this her life?