Chapter 4

"We have another chance."

Francine softly closed her Bible and glanced around. The nearest parishioners were kneeling 12 pews ahead, heads bowed in prayer.

"Another chance?" she asked.

"Yes," Laurie said, scooting closer to her in the pew.

She too gave the area a quick scan. Satisfied with their privacy, she leaned in.

"Jeffrey's been screwin' around with Cathy. He wants to see her tonight."

"Oh." Francine attempted a smile. "That's pretty irresponsible of him."

"He's an awful Christian," Laurie agreed. "But I'll take advantage of it. Tonight, the vampire dies."

Her grip tightened on the Bible.

Crap. Crap. Crap. Crap.

"I won't miss this time," Francine promised.

"I'm goin' tonight."

She looked at Laurie, but her cousin was staring straight ahead with nothing short of determination on her face.

"You sure? I don't want the vamp to hurt you."

"Won't get the chance. I'll put a bullet in him first."

Biting her lip, Francine leaned back in the pew.

As her Uncle Cal famously used to say, she was up shit creek without a paddle.

Last night, for better or for worse, she'd spared Godric's life. The vampire hadn't hung around long enough to hound her about why, and for that, she was thankful. Her transition in priorities even had her mildly confused.

But a decision was a decision.

"I'm gonna need you to pack our stuff," Laurie continued. "We gotta slip outta here by morning."

Francine nodded, mind galloping a mile a minute.

"I need to use the bathroom," she decided, setting her Bible down beside her.

"I'll be in the game hall. Sarah needs help setting up for a guest speaker."

"I'll see you there."

Stiffly, Francine exited the pew. Once in the hallway, her short legs quickened until she was safely through a door that connected to an unused wing of the massive church. Sometimes, Gabe stalked this particular hall. She wasn't entirely sure if she and Laurie had high enough clearance to be in the area. She figured it'd be best to be stealthy and never find out.

Tentatively, she inched open the basement door and peered down the stairs. Other than the air conditioning unit chugging away, the area was silent.

This is a turning point. If I warn Godric about this, I'm choosing sides.

This thought made her stomach turn. She didn't want to be against Laurie. But dang it, she didn't want to stand idly by while Godric's unjust execution took place!

Once safely at the bottom of the stairs, she peered around. One hand fidgeted beside her. This would be the first meeting between herself and the vampire that didn't include a gun. Maybe she'd been a fool after all. This was exactly what he wanted. To lure her into trusting him.

"Francine?"

She jumped at the voice. Godric slowly wandered out of the shadows, expression mildly puzzled. It made him appear much more boyish and innocent than he had a right looking.

"Can't chat long," she blurted, glancing behind her. "Laurie is plannin' to kill you tonight. I'd suggest ya book it while ya have the chance."

He was unfazed by the information. "I see."

She cocked her head. "Ya see? I just warned you about your impendin' death and all you got to say is 'I see'?"

The corner of Godric's lip quirked up. It was a poor attempt at holding back a smile.

"Are you concerned for me, Miss Moxley?"

Immediately, she crossed her arms. "No."

"No?"

"Nope."

He smoothed out his expression.

"There is no dissuading her?"

"She won't leave this place until you die."

"And you won't abandon her side?"

"She's family."

"What would you have me do, then?"

Her brows scrunched together. "How's that up to me? It's your life at stake."

This seemed to quiet the vampire. Briefly, his gaze trailed off to the stairs behind her.

She shifted from leg to leg, unwilling to leave yet. She wanted to know his game plan.

"Have you heard the term 'Gaul' before, Miss Moxley?"

"Can't say I have," she answered, wondering where he was going with the question. "Sounds like a brand of French underwear."

Godric strode forward, unable to keep back a half smile.

"You are right in guessing the name to be French in origin. Gaul was the name of a region in western and central Europe, long before the modern names you have for countries now. At its height, it was the epicenter of trade between varying tribes during the Iron Age."

"Yours included, I'm guessin'?" Francine asked. "Unless you like givin' random history lessons to young women in church basements."

"Yes," he agreed, "mine included. The tattoos I wear are relics of my tribe and my time as a human."

She'd noticed the ink around his biceps before, but never allowed herself to stare at them for too long. The less she was distracted, the better.

"Everyone in your tribe had them?" she asked, eyes glued to the tattoo peeking from beneath his left shirt sleeve.

"Yes."

She nodded. "Good to know."

"There is a point to all this," he promised. "The tribe I was a part of...we had unusual belief systems compared to others at the time."

"How's that? Weren't y'all mostly pagan and polytheistic?"

Godric tilted his head.

"I'm pleasantly surprised at your knowledge. Modern education in the South tends to ignore a time before Christianity."

Repressing a blush, Francine shrugged. "Thank my parents. They gave me a private education along with the one I got in school."

"Indeed, I am grateful."

She shivered under his heavy gaze. Were his hazel eyes always so dark?

"There was a point," she reminded.

Godric nodded, eyes dropping to the floor.

"My tribe believed in the concept of soulmates."

"That was unusual in that time?"

"No," he agreed, looking up, "not entirely. Greek philosophers were some of the first to suggest humans had another half that could make one whole."

Grimacing, Francine rested a hand on her hip. "See, I don't believe in that."

Godric wasn't able to fully mask his surprise.

"I was under the impression this wasn't an outdated belief."

She barely contained the urge to roll her eyes. "It's a gimmick they use in romance films to keep ya from bein' jaded. At least that's what my Uncle Cal says. And I can't exactly disagree. I feel like it's propaganda to make ya think you're inadequate lest ya fall in love. Who says I can't give myself the same things my "soulmate" supposedly can?"

Her fingers used air quotation marks around the term soulmate. Perhaps her uncle had influenced her thought process a little too much.

"What's wrong?" Francine asked, studying him. "You look like a kicked puppy."

He seemed unsure how to respond.

"Another inconvenience," was all he said.

She arched a brow. "Why's that?"

He stared at her without providing an answer. When she met his stare with her own, he abruptly looked away. She watched his jaw clench and unclench.

"Right," she absorbed. "I gotta skedaddle back upstairs. Laurie's probably wonderin' where I am. Thanks for the history lesson. Please, try not to be down here tonight."

She twisted around and was ready to take the first step up when Godric's voice broke through the silence.

"Francine...when your shoulder brushed mine on the sidewalk, I felt a burning spark set my skin aflame unlike any I ever experienced. Despite its foreignness, I knew immediately what it meant. My tribe referred to this phenomenon as soslei." He peered around the basement uncertainly before firmly resting his gaze on her back. "After Roman occupation of Gaul and our subsequent enslavement, the term was stolen and bastardized into Latin, creating the derivative sodales. Translating roughly into soulmates."

Francine's eyes widened.

"It is not a coincidence I am here. You were correct about that." He approached her cautiously. "And while this is not the ideal situation I wished to meet you under, I am willing to be flexible. My progeny, Eric, claims it is a fault. I digress. That you happened to reside so close to me was too convenient of a circumstance not to have acted upon."

When he remained quiet, Francine slowly turned around. She wanted to laugh, but Godric's somber expression stifled the desire.

"You're kiddin'," she said, eyebrows nearly disappearing into her hairline. "You 'xpect me to believe I'm the soulmate of a bloodsuckin' freak of nature?"

Godric considered the question for a second. "In more agreeable terms, yes."

Francine ran a hand through her hair. A tired sigh slipped from her lips.

"Yeah, okay. Good one."

She twisted around and started up the stairs again. Before she could make it halfway up, the basement door creaked open.

Petrified, she watched Gabe's burly form reveal itself from behind the door. A moment later and she was smoothly tugged backwards into a hard body behind her. At a neckbreaking speed, Godric sped into the shadows, one arm tightly wound around Francine's midsection. He huddled her into the corner, caging her in with his body. She wanted to speak, but his cool index finger settled lightly atop her lips. Despite the dim environment, she could practically feel the anchor of his gaze on her. Without saying a word, she nodded.

Godric lifted the finger and turned around. Rolling back his shoulders, he strode forward to meet Gabe's lumbering steps at the bottom of the stairs.

Her heart raced so quickly she momentarily had difficulty breathing.

I'm so screwed if he finds me.

"Godric," Gabe greeted, voice booming through the quiet air. "Just you down here?"

She pressed herself harder into the wall.

"Just me," Godric confirmed. "Am I to expect company sometime soon?"

Gabe casually scanned the area.

"No. Nothing like that. Your guard, Jeffrey, has been disposed of, so to speak. Reverend Newlin caught him whoring around with one of the other parishioners. Wanted me to make sure no one wandered down here by accident."

"I've been mostly unbothered," he said. "Thank you for the consideration."

Gabe grunted. "You got more self-control than most of those fangers, I'll give ya that. Shame you're not human. Real damn shame."

Godric didn't reply to this.

"Marcus will be taking over. Treat him like you treat me and there won't be a problem."

"Of course."

Francine slowly regained her breaths as Gabe trudged back up the steps, stairs creaking beneath his weight. Only when the door slammed shut did she find the courage to walk forward. Her right foot smacked against the corner of something solid, propelling her forward. At the last moment, Godric caught her and helped guide her out of the shadows.

The moment she could stand unassisted, she pushed at the arms around her. He let them fall without a fight.

"I-."

She shook her head, hands shaking.

"I have to go."

"Francine-."

"No." Her voice increased in pitch. "You've put me in a hell of a position, Godric. Do you know what'll happen to me if they find out I'm gettin' cozy with you?"

Her heart dropped into her stomach at the possibilities.

"I shoulda never came down here."

She hustled to the stairs. At the last second, she turned to him again.

"We are not soulmates," she stated. "I'm sorry I've lead ya to believe we are. Get the hell outta here while you can. I won't be warnin' you again."

Not waiting for a response, Francine jogged up the stairs.