Reciprocity

We reminded each other of pain, Ngozi and I. I played the role of protector, but my kind, my blood represented most of what she needed protection from. Weeks passed without incident as an uneasy peace between covens persisted. The mood on the estate was no different. Ngozi was broken since our last conversation. She kept to herself, refusing food and rest. There was little conversation between us and when she did speak, she seemed more comfortable doing so with Louis.

Richard had called once to speak with his mother and after the call she had wept and withdrawn even further. I did not ask what was said or how either of them was coping, it seemed selfish and cruel.

Following my actions in St. James we became active watchers, each of the others coven. Winston seemed to be considering his next move carefully, which suited me fine because I had demonstrated what I was capable of and what I would will myself to do.

Ngozi was giving up though, she seemed to age years in a matter of weeks and I knew even with my blood coursing through her veins she was one of us…death was not far off. She was doing her best to remove my motivation to shed more blood. I however, had seen what we would do if we were not tempered by some sought of human compassion so I was now motivated to protect not just Ngozi now but others like her.

It was a warm still night when I sat outside with Louis discussing my concerns about Ngozi. I could sense the presence of others beyond those who secured our perimeter and then I felt another presence, a familiar presence. This entity would be nearly undetectable if it were not of my blood. Then, those watching us decreased in number.

Shortly after, a figure approached from the far north side of the property and as they cleared a path for him I recognized who it was. It was Richard and his hands were covered with blood…