She was scared. Her life would be changing. A lot. Her friends would not accept it. Her brother would be hesitant but accept eventually.
She sank to her knees before them, “I am ready Master, Eric.”
“My child, you do not have to do this. You have shown me there is still goodness in this world if I only look for it.”
“I promised Master.”
“You are still willing then.”
He lifted her from her knees and sat down, cradling her in his lap.
“If you wish it bare your neck for me child.”
Without hesitation she moved her hair aside and tilted her head, baring her neck to the one who would be her Maker.
Gently he sank his fangs in, began drinking for the first time in many weeks. He kept drinking past the point of no return, past the point where she would have lived her mortal life to completion. He held her fast when her fight or flight reflex kicked in, holding her tight so he didn’t harm her and she didn’t harm herself.
He drank to the point where her lips and fingertips were blue, the heart and breath were stuttering, threatening to die out, to be no more.
He bit into his wrist and held it to her cold, lifeless blue lips. He let the crimson droplets fall, saw them land on her lips, saw one of them run into her mouth, onto her tongue. He watched as she swallowed reflexively. He lowered his wrist and she latched on, suckling, a newborn babe in his cold, dead arms. Once again he bit his wrist and let her feed from him. He felt rigor setting in as his eldest child bit into his wrist and placed it at her mouth. Once again she drank. Sated she finished dying in her Maker’s arms.
“Three nights my child, three nights and you will rise a new being. Your former life will be no more, your new life will begin.”
Gently he placed her in the coffin and climbed in after her. He closed the lid and died for the day, knowing that when he woke he would rise and help Eric dig their grave.