Chapter Text
Alcide Herveaux called the bar early, almost as if he had hoped it would be too early, and that he wouldn't have to speak to Eric. But Eric had slept at Fangtasia, and only ten minutes after sundown, he was dressed and in his office to conduct the evening's business. His first call was to Niall, to inform the fairy about the attack. He then phoned Booth, the acting sheriff of Area 4, with the message for Sophie-Anne about Sookie's payment. He was preparing to call some of his contacts about the mysterious Jonathan when the phone rang.
"Eric Northman," he answered, cradling the phone between his ear and shoulder as he shuffled through the stacks of paper on his desk. Someone in the bar had mentioned to Clancy that a Jonathan had approached him some nights ago, and the scrap of paper with Clancy's note had somehow gotten buried under mail and receipts.
"Eric, this is Alcide Herveaux. Sookie told me that you two were attacked by a Were last night."
"Not we two. Her," Eric corrected. He located Clancy's note and taped it to the edge of his laptop, then gave Alcide his full attention. "Do you know anything about it?"
He heard an impatient sigh on the other end of the line. "Are you asking if I had anything to do with it? Of course not."
"If I had meant to ask that, I wouldn't have implied it. I would have asked directly. In person. With my hand around your throat."
"The answer is no. I don't know anything about it. But I told Sookie that there's going to be a war between Patrick Furnan and me, and I suspect that Furnan sent the assassin. He knows that Sookie is my ally and my connection to the vampires."
Eric stared absently at his office door as he considered this. "You seem to be under the impression that I would side with you if such a war took place. I have no interest in the activities of your kind, as long as they don't interfere with my people."
"Understood," Alcide replied coldly.
"And don't draw Sookie into this as you have done in the past. As you can see, she's already in danger."
Alcide laughed. "No more danger than you throw her into every other week."
With a snarl, Eric hung up the phone. The truth of Alcide's jab only made it more infuriating. He picked up the phone again to call Clancy's contact when Pam strode in.
"Message from Sookie," she said, handing him her cell phone.
He listened to Sookie's voicemail, which related the same information that Alcide had just imparted. "Thanks," he said briefly, and he waved Pam out of the office. He would have to give Sookie his own cell number, something he had simply assumed he'd already done.
"Hello?" she answered his call shakily.
"The Were Herveaux called me. He confirms that he's at war with his packmaster."
"Yeah... You needed confirmation from Alcide? My message wasn't enough?"
He ignored her ill-temper. "I'd thought of an alternative to the theory that you were attacked in a strike against Alcide," he explained. "I'm sure Niall must have mentioned that he has enemies." She confirmed this with an almost noncommittal sound. "I wondered," Eric continued, "if one of those enemies had acted very swiftly. If the Weres have spies, so may the fairies."
Whether or not Patrick Furnan was targeting Sookie, it didn't explain the puzzle of how his assassin had known Sookie's whereabouts the night before. Fairies, on the other hand, would have had easy access to such knowledge if they watched Niall's movements.
"So, in wanting to meet me," Sookie mused aloud, "he almost caused my death."
"But he had the wisdom to ask me to escort you to and from Shreveport," Eric pointed out.
"So he saved my life, even though he risked it." She paused. "Actually... you saved my life. And I'm grateful."
Her gratitude wasn't what he wanted, but he didn't say so. Nor was he entirely convinced, after giving it more thought, that Niall's enemies were behind the attack. Fairies wouldn't have sent a Were to kill Sookie if they knew she was being protected by a vampire. Fairies did their own killing. The Weres were behind this somehow.
"I'll only interfere in the Were war to defend our interests," he said. "Or to defend you." He hoped he had made it quite clear that she was set apart in his mind, not merely a valuable commodity for his area.
Perhaps she did understand; a few seconds slipped by before she said, "All right."
"If you see trouble coming – if they try to draw you in further – call me immediately." He knew that Alcide Herveaux would have no qualms about using Sookie if he needed her to win the war. And, unlike Eric, he wouldn't do everything in his power to protect her if it came to that. "I believe the assassin truly was sent by the packmaster. Certainly he was a Were."
"Some of Alcide's people recognized the description," she told him. "The guy – Lucky somebody – had just been taken on by Furnan as a mechanic."
If he had had any lingering doubts, they were erased now. "Strange that he'd entrust such an errand to someone he hardly knew." Fucking Weres, rash and foolish. A vampire would never have done something so idiotic.
"Since the guy turned out to be so unlucky," Sookie quipped.
He laughed in spite of his dark mood. "I won't talk to Niall of this any further. Of course, I told him what occurred."
"All right, Eric," she said. "Thanks."
"Good night, Soo--" He stopped when he heard the click on the other end.
* * *
"Eric!" Pam exclaimed, sidling into his office and perching on the edge of his desk. "You're going to love this."
He rolled his desk chair back slightly and narrowed his eyes up at her. "If your obvious glee is any indication, this is something I'm not going to like at all."
"I just got back from Sookie's. I have a little... thing with her roommate, you know." She grinned, showing fang. "And guess what Sookie was up to today?" He raised one eyebrow and waited. "Just a little Were war. When she came home, you should have seen the blood on her. I could barely contain myself. Her leg was hurt and--"
"I am assuming that she is all right, or you wouldn't dare mock me this way," he said, keeping his voice cool.
"I told her that you wouldn't like it when I told you." Her smile collapsed into laughter. "She said – and I quote – 'He can go fly a kite.'"
Lovely. A stony look was the only satisfaction he gave her as she hopped off the desk and walked around to sit in one of the chairs facing him. He knew that she was waiting for him to call and tear into Alcide, but there were graver matters that concerned him. He had met with Clancy's contact earlier that evening, and the vampire told him that Jonathan had been asking about Eric's assets and influence. When questioned, a few more regular customers confirmed that Jonathan had spoken to them. He had not been able to determine what bastard (or bitch) had mentioned to Jonathan that Sookie was an "asset" to be investigated. Something was going on, something that had nothing to do with the Weres.
"I want you to visit Sookie's roommate again tomorrow night," he said to Pam. "Stay as late as you can and keep both eyes open."
"You're ordering me to take a second night off and spend it with my new pet?"
He smiled in spite of everything. "That's right."
He stayed at Fangtasia again for his daily sleep; if he was being investigated, it seemed likely that he might also have someone following him, and he didn't want to give away the location of his home. For the second night in a row, he woke up immediately at sundown. He called the other sheriffs first. There was no answer from Cleo, but she was usually a late riser. Booth and Arla Yvonne both confirmed mysterious visitors in their areas.
"How is the queen faring?" he asked Booth.
"Not well. She's still in a great deal of pain, which is to be expected. But she no longer seems to care about anything. It's almost as if she is in what the humans call a depression. In fact--" Booth broke off for a moment, and Eric heard him yelling, "What?" in the background. Then he returned. "I must go. There's some kind of disturbance outside. Call me if you learn anything more, and I will do the same."
Eric set the phone down and frowned into the distance. Arkansas was too weak to attempt a coup, but there were many other kings and queens who would see that Louisiana was ripe for the picking. He left his desk and rummaged in one of the closets for an old travel bag he kept for emergencies.
There was a knock on his office door, and he peered around the closet door to see Lizbet poking her head in. "Phone, sir," she said. "Sookie Stackhouse on line two. I tried to transfer it, but you were already on the phone, and then I hit the wrong button and…" She saw the look on his face and quickly slipped out again.
He located the bag and shut the closet door, then returned to his desk to answer the phone. "Yes?"
"Busy, were you?" Sookie asked.
"Ah…" You have no idea. "Having supper." He opened the desk drawer where he kept his most important documents, removed them, and tossed them into the bag.
"Well, hope you had enough. Listen, did you find out anything about that Jonathan?"
Eric stopped what he was doing and stood up straight. "Have you seen him again?" Pam should be in Bon Temps already, which was good.
"Uh, no, I was just wondering."
He closed his eyes with momentary relief. "If you see him, I need to know immediately."
"Okay, got that. What have you learned?" she asked.
"He's been seen other places," he told her, settling into his desk chair. "He even came here one night when I was away. Pam's at your house, right?"
She paused briefly. "Yes, she's here," she said with an edge to her voice.
"Good. If he appears again, I know she can take care of it... not that that's why she's there." He knew how she hated it when people tried to protect her, especially when she didn't know about it.
"Are you gonna give me any real information on why you're so jumpy about this guy?" she demanded.
His first thought was to tell her nothing; there was nothing to be gained by worrying her if his suspicions turned out to be mere paranoia. On the other hand, there was everything to lose if he were right and she didn't know what was going on.
"You haven't seen the queen since Rhodes," he said slowly.
He would tell her what he knew and see if she reached the same conclusion. She didn't know much about vampire politics, it was true, but her instincts had always been sharp. Besides that, it was a simple pleasure to have an equal with whom he could discuss matters that couldn't be shared with his subordinates – no, not even Pam.
"No. What's the deal with her legs?"
"They're growing back."
"That's good, right?"
"It hurts very much when you lose parts and they grow back," he explained. "It'll take a while." And now we come to the point. "She's very... She's incapacitated."
"She's not well enough to be in charge." That's my girl. "Then who is?" she asked.
"The sheriffs have been running things. Gervaise perished in the bombing, of course. That leaves me, Cleo, and Arla Yvonne. It would have been clearer if Andre had survived." As much as he hated the thought, he found himself regretting Andre's death, if only because of the present circumstances. "Andre could have held the center because he was so established as the queen's right hand," he continued. "If one of her minions had to die, I wish I could have picked Sigebert, who's all muscles and no brains." He shook his head. "At least Sigebert's there to guard her body, though Andre could have done that and guarded her territory as well."
And with Andre still alive, Sophie-Anne wouldn't be wallowing in despair and apathy. What a miserable year for her: the loss of her human lover, the betrayal of her new husband, her terrible injuries in Rhodes, the death of Andre. He found himself pitying her, something he had never imagined he'd feel for a vampire as lovely, powerful, and charming as Sophie-Anne.
"You expect some kind of takeover," Sookie concluded, drawing him back to the conversation. "You think Jonathan was a scout."
One corner of his mouth turned up in a half smile. "Watch out, or I'll begin to think you can read my mind."
"That's impossible."
"So it is. Be careful, Sookie. Don't leave the house, and if you see Jonathan, call me. Promise me you will."
"I'll be glad to," she said.
He moved quickly through his office, gathering everything of importance, and left as casually as possible through the front door of the bar. He told Clancy that he was going to the night deposit box at the bank. From the rearview mirror of his Corvette, he watched carefully as he wove in and out of the light traffic on the interstate. He made several unnecessary stops, purchasing gas from a service station, True Blood from a grocery store, and new windshield wipers at a Wal-Mart. He was not being followed.
As he merged onto the interstate to drive to Sookie's house, his cell phone lit up. Booth.
"Tell me," he said without preamble.
"It's bad, Eric," Booth said. "Cleo's missing, and I haven't been able to reach Sophie-Anne or those guarding her. I think Arla Yvonne is trying to get to Shreveport. I'll call you if I learn more."
Before Eric could reply, Booth had ended the call. Then a text message from Clancy flashed on the screen: strange vamps at bar whats going on.
"Fuck," he hissed. He dialed Pam.
"Hel--"
"Pam, get your ass to the bar now. Call everyone in area five and tell them to meet you there. We have strength in numbers."
"Leaving right now," she said. "What's going on? I couldn't reach Cleo earlier, and I tried to call you at the bar, but they said you'd gone. And your cell was busy."
"Takeover. I'm on my way to Sookie's. Run over to Bill's house and tell him to stay with her while you're gone."
"Master," said Pam slowly, "wouldn't it be safer for you and Bill to..." She sighed and didn't finish her sentence. "I'll make sure everyone stands together at Fangtasia."
For the rest of the drive to Bon Temps, he tried calling Sophie-Anne, Cleo, Arla Yvonne, and other vampires in the area, all with no luck. He missed a call from Bill and listened to the voicemail, which told him all he needed to know. Las Vegas. That meant none other than Felipe de Castro and his deputy, Victor Madden. Eric had been friends with Victor during his years in England, and though they hadn't spoken in decades, he remembered Victor as both affable and ruthless. He stepped on the gas.
There was a strange car parked at the turn to Hummingbird Road, so he quickly pulled off on an old hunter's trail. He could run the rest of the way to Sookie's house. He kicked off the flip-flops he had put on idly when he woke up, then took off through the forest and brush, cursing when a long branch caught his shirt and ripped it.
He raced up to the back door of Sookie's house and didn't bother with a knock. "Bill, let me in!" he called. "The sooner the better!"
Bill unlocked the door, and Eric stepped inside, sparing a half-second to be pleased that Sookie had never rescinded his invitation to her home.
There was something else. Some strange energy was pulsing through his blood, whispering to him so softly that he could barely make out the words. Eric, I'll do my best to keep you safe. He saw himself as if from very far away, walking through this same door, barefooted. But he had never been barefoot in Sookie's house before tonight.
Had he? He blinked and shook his head, and the moment passed.
He followed Bill back to Sookie, her roommate, and a frazzled woman he had never seen before. The latter could only be Quinn's sister, whom Bill had credited with the information in his voicemail.
"I was cut off from the club," he told them. "My house was no good, not by myself. I couldn't reach anyone else. I got your message, Bill," he added, turning to the younger vampire, who replied with a short nod. He looked at Sookie. "So, Sookie, I'm here to ask for your hospitality."
Again.
They were speaking around him, but his eyes had fallen on an ugly, aged blanket draped over the sofa behind Sookie. You could hardly say the lion wanted to caress the antelope. He saw himself and Sookie lying in front of her fireplace.
"I'm going to get my shotgun," Sookie said, jarring him back to the present.
He was closer to the small closet than she was, so he opened it and pulled out the gun. He had never seen it before, and yet he had known exactly where to find it. Sookie was staring at him as he handed it over to her. It was the gun she had used to kill Debbie Pelt, he realized. The gun he had seen when his memory was lost.
Not now, he told himself. This is not the time for everything to come back. I can't deal with that tonight.
He walked to each door and window on the first floor, checking locks and peering out into the empty blackness. They were safe at the moment.
"What would give them a good reason to want to kill or capture you?" the witch was asking when he returned.
"What's happened?" he asked Sookie.
She gave him a wry smile. "Amelia is explaining to me why there's no rational reason the vampires would come after me in their attempt to conquer the state."
There was no rational reason for them not to come after her. "Of course they'll come." He checked Quinn's sister and saw that Bill had glamored the girl – a good idea. Then he wandered to the room's main window. "Sookie's got a blood tie to me," he said, almost to himself. "And now I am here."
"Yeah, thanks a lot, Eric, for making a beeline for this house," the witch said sarcastically.
Did she really not know how important her roommate was? The invading vampires would make quick work of kidnapping Sookie – or worse – to get to Eric. They might even keep her for themselves. Telepaths were rare. If nothing else, the witch surely must know that she herself would be considered one of Louisiana's "assets."
"Amelia," he said without looking away from the window, "are you not a witch with much power?"
"Y-yes, I am."
"Isn't your father a wealthy man with a lot of influence in the state?" he went on. "Isn't your mentor a great witch?"
"Yeah, okay," she acknowledged. "They'd be happy if they could corral us. But still, if Eric hadn't come here, I don't think we'd need to worry about physical injury."
Eric smirked, though no one could see him.
It was Sookie who jumped in to help her roommate understand the reality of the situation. "You're wondering if we're actually in danger? Vampires? Excited? Bloodlust?"
"We won't be any use if we're not alive," Amelia retorted.
"Accidents happen."
Bill laughed, and Eric smiled at the window. It wasn't funny, really, the thought of the humans accidentally getting killed by over-excited vampires. But he couldn't help but smile at Sookie's sardonic appraisal of vampire behavior. She knew them much better than she should.
"Why did Pam leave?" she asked.
He left the window to rejoin their small group, crossing his arms over his chest. "She can be of more value at Fangtasia. The others have gone to the club, and she can tell me if they are sealed in it or not." He paused and frowned, suddenly realizing the other implication of "strength in numbers." Every target in one place. "It was stupid of me to call them all and tell them to gather." He gritted his teeth. "I should have told them to scatter."
He glanced at Bill, who had taken up Eric's place at the window. Bill shook his head to indicate that there was nothing outside.
His phone rang and vibrated in his pocket, and he pulled it out. Pam. "Yes?" he answered, hoping for good news.
"Everyone's here. Everyone from the area, that is. Arla Yvonne hasn't made it."
With a steady voice, he replied, "Good fortune to you." He closed the phone and returned it to his pocket. Bill was looking at him, waiting. "Most of the others are in the club," he said.
Bill nodded and turned to Sookie. "Where is Claudine?"
"I have no idea," she shrugged. "But I don't think she'll come because you guys are here. There's no point in her showing up to defend me if you and Eric can't keep your fangs off of her."
Or Niall had forbidden her to intervene, Eric thought, wondering if that were a possibility.
Bill got very still, and Eric looked at him. They had heard the same thing. The Las Vegas vampires were coming – and in more than one vehicle.
"Not the company I'd have chosen," Bill said, looking around at the group, his eyes lingering on Sookie. "But we'll make a good showing. I do regret the women."
Oh, for fuck's sake, Bill. Save the melodrama for your own time and don't waste mine with it. "We're not in our graves yet," he said with resolve. He hadn't lived a thousand years to see them come to an end on this night. He refused to resign himself to death. He refused to resign himself to Sookie's death. He stood quietly, steeling himself.
They heard the cars' engines die, and Eric counted the slams of six car doors. He also heard the tiger. One of the group walked over and knocked on a porch column. It seemed the witch's wards didn't allow them past the porch. Sookie swallowed and seemed to stop breathing, but she started for the door before Bill stopped her and put himself between her and whatever was waiting for them outside.
"Who is there?" he asked as he moved himself and Sookie further back.
"It is I, the vampire Victor Madden."
Eric closed his eyes. It was too soon to feel relief, but there was at least a glimmer of hope. Sadistic as he was, Victor liked Eric. And Victor had always been one to make a deal. He was vicious, yes, but never rash.
"Do you know him?" Sookie asked Bill.
"Yes," Bill said without glancing at Eric. "I've met him."
Eric had introduced Bill and Victor in the early part of the century, and the three of them had spent an evening in New Orleans that left more than one Bourbon Street fangbanger drained and dead.
"Friend or foe?" Sookie called out to Victor, and Eric knew, even before he heard Victor's laugh, that his old friend would like her already.
"That's an excellent question, and one only you can answer," Victor replied. "Do I have the honor of talking to Sookie Stackhouse, famed telepath?" Victor had been quite the dandy in centuries past; it seemed the years hadn't changed him a great deal.
Though Victor couldn't see her, Sookie raised her chin in that defiant way that Eric loved. "You have the honor of talking to Sookie Stackhouse, barmaid." The witch had been chanting to herself in a terrified whisper, and Sookie laid a hand on her friend's arm. "Quinn's out there with them," she said.
Amelia stopped mid-chant and stared back at Sookie. "He's on their side?"
"They've got his mom," Sookie replied.
"But we've got his sister." Amelia cocked her head in Frannie's direction.
During this exchange, Bill had met Eric's eyes, and his calm expression seemed to echo what Eric himself was thinking. They had no choice but to let Victor in. If they didn't, he would simply burn Sookie's house with everyone inside. If they did admit him, there was a chance of getting out of this.
"May we come in, or may we treat with one of you face to face?" Victor asked. "You seem to have quite a few safeguards on the house."
"Yes!" the witch exclaimed, obviously proud of her magic.
Eric gave one nod to Bill, then looked down at Sookie. He kissed her and pulled back a little to study her face. She had kept him safe once, and tonight he would do the same if it came to that. "He'll spare you," he murmured, smoothing his thumb over her cheek. "You're too unique to waste."
He parted from her unwillingly and opened the door to see the familiar face of Victor Madden. Victor, dressed to the nines as he always was, grinned up at him, raising one amused eyebrow when he saw that Eric was barefoot and sporting a torn shirt.
"Eric Northman. I haven't seen you in a few decades."
Eric looked from Victor's face to the yard beyond. He had heard a lot of car doors, but only a few vampires were visible. He looked back at Victor and forced a smile. "You've been working hard in the desert."
"Yes, business has been booming," Victor said as casually as if this were nothing more than a social visit. "There are some things I want to discuss with you. Rather urgent things, I'm afraid. May I come in?"
Again Eric scanned the visible part of the yard behind Victor. "How many are with you?"
"Ten. Nine vamps and Quinn," Sookie whispered behind him, confirming his suspicions.
Victor smiled easily. "Four companions are with me."
Victor was obviously testing the waters rather than expecting Eric to believe him. Five people would not require more than one car or the slamming of so many car doors. Was his old friend trying to plumb the depths of Sookie's ability?
He returned Victor's smile with one of his own. "I think you've lost your counting ability. I believe there are nine vampires there, and one shifter."
"No use trying to pull the wool over your eyes, old sport," Victor replied, his smile widening into a grin.
"Let them step out of the woods so I can see," Eric said loudly so that all could hear. He watched as Victor's companions, one of whom matched the description of Jonathan, emerged from the dark shelter of the trees, and he narrowed his eyes at the tiger. "I see a few familiar faces. Are they all under your charge?" If Victor was one of a group sent to kill them, there wasn't much he could do to prevent it. But if he was their leader, they wouldn't attack unless he told them to.
Victor met his eyes with an even sincerity. "Yes."
In other words, they had a chance. He nodded slightly at Victor and looked back into the room. Sookie and the others had spread out to the windows, watching the action. "Sookie, it's not for me to invite him in. This is your house," he reminded her. "Is your ward specific?" he asked the witch. "Will the ward let in him only?"
Amelia took a deep breath. "Yes," she said slowly. "He has to be invited in by someone the ward accepts. Like Sookie."
The enchanted cat rubbed up against Amelia's leg, then sat in the doorway, staring at the ominous group outside. Victor's amusement at the animal's appearance quickly turned into suspicion. "This is not just a cat."
"No, neither is the one out there," Sookie retorted, prompting a small smile from Eric.
Victor took one step closer, still unable to move past the porch. The outside lights flickered on as Sookie and her roommate replaced Eric at the door. Eric stood just behind Sookie and watched Victor turn his attention to her, looking her up and down in the way he had once appraised racehorses at Newmarket. He smiled appreciatively. "Reports of your attractions were not exaggerated."
Sookie responded by shrugging one shoulder. "Uh-huh. You alone can come in."
"I'm delighted," Victor replied with a deep bow. He tested the ward with one foot forward, then moved like a flash in front of Sookie. Eric's fangs descended slightly, but he willed them to retract. Aggression was the last ingredient needed in this situation. Victor stared down at Sookie, attempting to glamor her, and Eric fought back a laugh. No use, my friend. Sookie's resistance to his power seemed only to confirm what Victor already knew, if his nonplussed reaction was any indication. They stood aside as he stepped over the threshold and took in his surroundings. "Ah, Compton," he said when he noticed Bill. Bill only looked uncomfortable; perhaps he was remembering that night in New Orleans with his usual self-loathing. "The source of the magic," Victor continued, more to himself than to them, when he saw the witch. Then his eyes landed on Quinn's sister, and his face darkened.
"Please have a seat," said Sookie quickly. She motioned to her living room as she turned on the lamps placed around the furniture. Eric joined Bill on the sofa, more as a demonstration of the area's solidarity than anything else. Victor may have allies outside, but in here he was only one against two. Victor selected a chair across from them. "Would any of you like a True Blood?" Sookie asked. "I have a few bottles in the fridge."
She was a mystery he would never solve, Eric thought as he looked up at her, her shaky hands the only clue that she wasn't an ordinary Southern hostess offering drinks to her bridge club. He gave her an encouraging smile and shook his head.
"I'll have one, my dear, if you don't mind," said Victor. Amelia jumped at the opportunity to escape and went into the kitchen to fetch the blood. Leaning back, Victor crossed one leg over his knee and continued to regard Sookie, who had taken a place on the arm of an old chair to his right. For a minute, none of them talked, as if they were all listening to the soft hum of the microwave in the next room. It beeped, and they heard Amelia opening and shutting the microwave door.
"Your queen is dead, Viking."
Eric's eyes flew to Victor's, but he said nothing at first. He watched as Victor received his drink, and he used the valuable seconds to compose his thoughts. "I had guessed that was the case," he said at last, and it was the truth. "How many of the sheriffs?"
"Let me see…" Victor said slowly. He rolled his eyes up to the ceiling and tapped his chin with one finger. "Oh, yes! All of them."
Eric realized that he had been wrong to assume that he would survive this night. He glanced at Sookie. Her face was relatively calm, but he could feel her fear and dread.
It was Bill who found words first. "What of their people?"
"There are a few alive," Victor confirmed, taking a sip of his blood. "A dark young man named Rasul, a few servitors of Arla Yvonne. Cleo Babbitt's crew died with her even after an offer of surrender, and Sigebert seems to have perished with Sophie-Anne."
And what of my people? "Fangtasia?" Eric asked. If they had killed Pam, he would find some way to stake every single one of them.
Victor took his time answering, and Eric hated him for it. "Eric, your people are all in the club," he answered finally. "They have not surrendered. They say they won't until they hear from you." Eric knew his heart no longer functioned, but at that moment, he would have sworn that it soared. "We're ready to burn it down," Victor continued. "One of your minions escaped, and she – we think it is a female – is taking out any of my people stupid enough to get separated from the others."
He made a mental note to give Pam a 200% raise, but there wasn't much time to dwell on that. The fact remained that he was the last vampire standing between the new regime and the old one. "Why am I alive, of all the sheriffs?"
This time there was no dramatic pause from Victor. "Because you're the most efficient, the most productive, and the most practical. And you have one of the biggest moneymakers living in your area and working for you," he added, indicating Bill. "Our king would like to leave you in position if you will swear loyalty to him."
"I suppose I know what will happen if I refuse," he said dryly.
"My people in Shreveport are ready with the torches... actually, with more modern devices, but you get the point." Victor smiled and winked. "And, of course, we can take care of your little group here. You are certainly fond of diversity, Eric." He looked around the room and shook his head. "I trail you here thinking to find you with your elite vampires, and we find you in this odd company."
They were interrupted when the tiger scratched at Sookie's front door. Eric glanced at her to see if she would let the bastard in, but she shook her head. Then he turned back to Victor, who was waiting calmly for Eric's decision.
If he refused, he and Bill could kill Victor together. Amelia's wards would keep the other vampires from intervening. If they set fire to the house, he could still escape with Sookie by flying away. But he knew well enough that she would never accept that, not while her friends were in danger. She would hate him for it; she would never forgive him. And where would they go? How would they live? Nor did this scenario solve the problem of Fangtasia, where Pam and the others had stood up for him with loyalty and bravery. Pragmatic and self-serving he may be, but honor was not something he had thrown away with his mortality. Some might say that honor meant fighting until the bitter end, refusing to capitulate. They could go fuck themselves. Honor meant staying alive and protecting those who depended on him and stood by him. Honor meant keeping at least one Louisiana vampire in power instead of handing the state entirely over to Las Vegas.
Before he could give Victor his answer, Quinn's sister started screaming, and the tiger bashed himself against Sookie's door with so much force that the wood cracked and splintered apart. The girl ran to let him in, and she succeeded in spite of Victor's attempt to stop her. The tiger stormed in, knocking his sister to the ground in the process, and let out a loud, furious roar.
"Quinn," said Victor calmly, "listen to me." The tiger growled low in his throat, but he did seem to be placated somewhat. "No one is harming your sister. You see? You're the one who knocked her down. We were all sitting quietly, having our little discussion, and..."
Eric didn't catch the rest of what Victor said because he heard the buzzing of a cell phone calling someone. He looked down at Sookie quickly and saw the phone in her right hand, Niall Brigant's card in her left. If Niall came here, he would certainly kill Victor – and, as a consequence, all of them. And if a fairy killed a vampire, it would ignite a war of dreadful proportions. He seized Sookie's cell phone and flung it across the room. It hit the opposite wall and shattered into dozens of pieces.
"We can't bring him in, or a war will start that will kill all of us," he told her softly. But she didn't understand; she glared at him with stakes in her eyes.
Victor eyed the broken phone and turned to them. "There's no one you can call who would help you in this situation..." He narrowed his eyes at her. "Unless there is something I don't know about you."
"There is much you don't know about Sookie," said Bill, stepping up to Victor. "Know this: I will die for her. If you harm her, I'll kill you." As Eric silently cursed Bill for being so foolish, Bill looked in his direction. "Can you say the same?"
Bill's idiocy was almost beyond Eric's comprehension. What in the name of fuck had made him think that he was protecting Sookie by saying such a thing to Victor? He might as well have pointed a gun at her head himself, not to mention endangering himself and Eric.
Eric ignored Bill and stared straight at Victor, keeping his voice relaxed and even. "You must also know this. Even more pertinently, if anything happens to her, forces you can't imagine will be set into motion."
You don't play with threats, Bill, however chivalrous. You play with what they care about. You play with politics.
"Of course, that could be an idle threat," Victor mused aloud, searching both Eric's face and Sookie's. "But somehow, I believe you are serious. If you're referring to this tiger, though, I don't think he'll kill us all for her, since we have his mother and his sister in our grasp." He smirked and looked at Frannie darkly. "The tiger already has a lot to answer for, since I see his sister here." Then he turned back to Eric. "This is ridiculous. Eric, this is the bottom line and my last offer. Do you accept my king's takeover of Louisiana and Arkansas, or do you want to fight to the death?"
Rest in peace, Sophie-Anne. Between your memory and our lives, I choose the latter. "I accept the sovereignty of your king."
Victor's eyes blazed with triumph as he directed his attention to Bill. "Bill Compton?"
"I accept," said Bill gravely.
Then it was done. "Victor, call your people off," Eric said firmly. "I want to hear you tell them."
He watched as Victor pressed a number on speed dial and waited for an answer. "Delilah, we are victorious. Stand down immediately and harm no one at the sheriff's club. Have we lost any more since you last reported?" He smiled. "Excellent. Cheerio." He closed his cell phone with a snap and looked expectantly at Eric.
Not knowing if Pam had her phone with her during her one-woman killing spree, Eric dialed the bar.
It was Clancy who answered. "Boss, the enemies are retreating," Clancy told him immediately. "We are safe."
"Not retreating," Eric corrected. "Accepting our surrender."
A short silence. "Oh."
"We are now subjects of the King of Nevada. This will be a peaceful transition, is that understood? Don't forget to tell Pam, lest she kill off a few more of Victor's people." Containing a smile was difficult, but he managed it.
"Just like that?" Clancy asked, and Eric heard the fury in his voice. "They killed our queen and the other sheriffs, and we're supposed to just roll over and take it?"
Clancy was loud – loud enough for Victor to hear – so Eric slipped out of the room and wandered a short way down the hall. Rolling over and taking it went against every standard that he himself operated by, and he understood Clancy's anger. But they had survived and their circumstances were different. It was time to put the takeover behind them. It was time for him to keep his position of influence secure in a new regime. It was time, in short, to adapt and move on. Eric said nothing as Clancy ranted. He didn't particularly care what the other vampire was saying, and it gave him time to think.
He paused at the entrance to Sookie's bedroom, leaning back against the wall, his mind wandering as Clancy finished his tirade. "Enough," he said at last. "We'll talk later." Without waiting for a reply, he ended the call and stuffed the phone in his pocket. It had been many centuries since he last felt so powerless, centuries since Appius had pushed him down on beds or floors in strange cities and taken his pleasure. Roll over and take it, indeed.
He stepped into Sookie's room and inhaled deeply. Ever since his first time in this room, when he'd come to pick her up for the orgy, he had remembered the scent of it. Her blood had tried to speak to his earlier before he blocked it out to focus on more urgent matters. Now he opened himself to it. He closed his eyes and spread his hands, palms up, several inches from his sides.
And everything came back.
The fragmented images seemed like a kaleidoscope at first. Then they slid and locked into place like a mosaic. Sookie washing his feet and clasping his hand as they lay in her bed together. He could feel his own confusion and fear, and he could feel his comfort as he relaxed next to her warm, sleeping body. He saw them in front of the fireplace, under the old, ugly blanket, just as he had seen earlier. He saw himself joining her in the shower and exploring her wet skin with eager hands. He opened his eyes and stared at her bed, and he could see them making love, almost ghostly forms moving together. He could remember the taste of her soap-perfumed skin and the feel of her damp, freshly-washed hair woven through his fingers. His blood pushed against his veins as if it wanted to escape... find her... rejoin with hers. Heart's desire... dear one. My lover.
He stumbled to her bed and sank onto the edge of it as the memories continued to crash into him, urgent now and unrelenting. He remembered the meeting with the vampires and Weres at the shifter's bar. He remembered kissing her foot, then traveling up and up until he had tasted every delicious inch of her. He saw himself carrying her outside and taking her on the porch swing. Goosepimples on her skin from the cold. Soft laughter as they navigated the logistics. And then in front of the fire.
I will share everything I have with you. Every vampire who owes me fealty will honor you.
We don't have much time, Eric. Let's make it good.
I can stay with you always... I could love you.
He had lost something he never knew he had. Sookie had known it and lost it anyway. "Sookie..." he whispered as his head fell into his hands, "I promised you everything and left you with nothing." No wonder she wouldn't allow herself to love him. No wonder she kept him at arm's length and turned a deaf ear to everything he tried to tell her. Self-preservation was something he understood.
Light footsteps approached, and he lifted his head to see her. "Sitting here on your bed, smelling your scent... Sookie... I remember everything."
Her shoulders slumped. "Oh, hell." Without another word, she escaped to the bathroom and closed the door behind her.
He heard water running, and he paced the bedroom until the door opened again. "I can't believe I--" he began, but she interrupted.
"Yeah, yeah, I know," she said, waving her hand impatiently, "loved a mere human, made all those promises, was as sweet as pie and wanted to stay with me forever."
Surely she understood what he had lost? "I can't believe I felt something so strongly and was so happy for the first time in hundreds of years. Give me some credit for that, too."
Sookie only looked tired and pained. She sighed. "Can we talk about this some other time... if we have to talk about it?"
She was right. They had been through too much tonight, and there was too much left to worry about and accomplish. "Yes. Yes. This isn't the right moment."
"I don't know that any time will be right for this conversation," she said bitterly.
He took a few steps closer to her and brushed her hair behind her ear. "But we're going to have it." We're going to be happy again.
"Eric..." She seemed to be working up a protest, but she decided against it, either because she was too tired or because she knew it was futile. "Oh, okay." She sighed again and brought her eyes up to his. "I'm glad the new regime wants to keep you on."
"It would hurt you if I died."
She gave a humorless laugh. "Yeah, we're blood bound, yadda yadda yadda."
"Not because of the bond," he said gently, swiping his thumb over her cheek, then her lips.
"Okay, you're right. It would hurt me if you died," she admitted, and for a brief moment, he saw from the wounded clarity in her eyes that she had lowered some wall within herself. It went back up just as quickly. "Also, I would have died, too, most likely," she went on, "so it wouldn't have hurt for long. Now, can you please scoot?"
He smiled. Tonight's battle he had lost, but this one... this one he would win. "Oh, yes, I'll 'scoot' for now, but I'm going to see you later. And rest assured, my lover" – this last endearment he caressed with his voice – "we'll come to an understanding." I will share everything I have with you. Every vampire who owes me fealty will honor you. I will love you. "As for the vampires of Las Vegas," he continued with more good humor than he felt, "they'll be well-suited to running another state that relies heavily on tourism. The King of Nevada is a powerful man, and Victor is not one you can take lightly. Victor is ruthless, but he won't destroy something he may be able to use. He's very good at reining in his temper."
"So you're not really that unhappy with the takeover?" she asked, looking surprised.
"It's happened. There's no goal to be met in being unhappy now. I can't bring anyone back to life, and I can't defeat Nevada by myself." He thought of Pam and her bold, reckless last stand at the bar. "I won't ask my people to die in a futile attempt."
He could see that she found his pragmatism heartless, and perhaps it was. But it had kept them alive, and that was all he cared about. She moved to the doorway of her bedroom, and he followed her, leaning to kiss her cheek before he left. It struck him suddenly that tonight was the second time a lover had betrayed her. It might even be the third if she thought of him that way after the curse was broken. She would never face that again. "I'm sorry about the tiger," he murmured, and he meant it.
She stayed behind in her bedroom as he left the house. He flew to his car and took his time driving back to Fangtasia. The world had tilted on its axis, but he had spent centuries learning to readjust his footing.