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Chapter Text

At first he barely registered the blonde who entered Fangtasia that night with Bill Compton; he had seen blondes before, had sucked and fucked more than his fair share, and had his pick of them every night. This evening was too tedious – and his mind too full of other things – to warrant the notice of yet another yellow-haired human woman.

"Did you look at Bill's new pet?" Pam asked.

Eric made a motion with his hand, an acknowledgment and dismissal in one.

"Well, I'd have her," said Pam. She was quiet a moment, during which time she casually kicked away a would-be admirer. He was vaguely aware of refusing a few advances himself. "Why are you so quiet and boring tonight?"

He said nothing, but his eyes rested on Bill's human again, and he realized that something was different about the woman. She was obviously human, but there was something else…

Bill had evidently noticed that Eric's interest was piqued, because he and his partner rose and approached. Eric furrowed his brows as they came closer, trying to discern something – anything – special about the woman, but he quickly rearranged his features into something more pleasant when he realized that the woman was watching him with apprehension. Bill stopped several feet away from the table, holding the woman back with him, and Eric wondered at this with amusement. Surely Bill couldn't be that insecure about introducing his companion to Eric and Pam?

"Bill," he said by way of greeting the younger vampire, then turned his eyes back to the woman.

She was certainly attractive, with shiny hair, that Southern-girl tan, and a figure that could only be called luscious. Her breasts alone… But there was also a sweetness about her, in the way she had chosen such sexy clothes – that tight dress, those sinful red shoes – that only screamed innocence. The flower pattern, the matching red purse. Wearing white to Fangtasia, for fuck's sake. Yes, he mentally agreed with Pam, I'd have her.

It was Pam who spoke next: "Who's your friend?" Eric could hear the lust in her voice, and he smiled. Pam had good taste, and she had never been subtle. He had taught her well in both respects.

"Hi, I'm Sookie Stackhouse," the woman replied. Her drawl was charming, and she spoke as if she were addressing people at her mother's garden party, rather than two ancient vampires.

He liked her already.

"Aren't you sweet?" he said, in what he hoped was a good imitation of a garden party guest.

"Not especially." She held her chin up and looked wary – much more appropriate, considering the present company.

Eric gave a genuine laugh, surprising himself. Yes, he liked her very much. And he wouldn't mind snatching her from Bill right here and now, taking her to his office, and having his way with her.

Instead, he matched her politeness with his own. "Sookie, this is Pam, and I am Eric."

He waited for her to respond, but she said nothing, so he looked at Bill expectantly.

"My friend Sookie would like to ask a couple of questions."

Friend! Eric restrained himself from smirking and looked at Pam to see if she appreciated this as much as he did.

Pam only looked annoyed. "Like how long are our fangs, and what kind of coffin do we sleep in?"

Eric returned his gaze to Sookie, already knowing that these were not her questions; if they were, she would have asked Bill already. And she didn't look or act like another fangbanger.

"No, ma'am," she said calmly.

Ah, she was back at the garden party. Her politeness was both strange and welcomed. Then he realized that she wasn't treating them like garden party guests, but simply like regular people who deserved politeness. Either that, or Bill had warned her (he couldn't help but notice how tightly Bill gripped Sookie's arm), and she was cowed in their presence. Maybe a bit of both, but Eric preferred to think it was the former.

He watched as Sookie withdrew two photographs from her purse and held them out to him and Pam. "I'd like to know if you've seen either of these women in this bar," she said.

She was straight-forward and frank, and Eric liked her all the more. He decided he would oblige this strange creature, and he looked at the photographs. One was a stranger to him, but the other… He remembered how she had begged him to slap her as he bent her over his desk. He looked up and met Sookie's eyes evenly, matching her frankness with his own.

"I have been with this one. She liked pain."

Sookie blinked, swallowed – he watched the movement of her lovely throat – and turned to Pam.

"I have seen both of them," Pam said nonchalantly. "I have never been with them. This one was a pathetic creature." She had pointed to the picture of the woman Eric did not know.

Two pathetic fangbangers, then. Why should they arouse the interest of this Stookie Stackhouse, who was obviously a thing apart?

"Thank you very much," Sookie said. She looked at him. "That's all of your time I need to take." All politeness, this delicious Southern belle.

He was about to tell her that she could have as much time as she liked, but she had already turned. Bill, however, was stopping her. He certainly was concerned about his "friend."

"Bill, are you quite attached to your friend?" Eric smiled as he emphasized the last word, knowing that he was pushing Bill to an admission of his real relationship with Sookie. Eric was certainly keen to know, especially if there was any possibility of taking her for himself.

Bill did not disappoint. "She is mine," he said in a voice that brooked no contradiction.

Eric looked at Sookie again, noticing the fierceness in her eyes. So many things to like. He ran his eyes down her body appreciatively and met her eyes again. He had every intention of making her his, and Bill Compton was hardly in a position to stop him.

Bill bowed and led Sookie away, and Eric's gaze followed her all the way back to their table. He turned and looked at Pam.

"Do you think he's had her?"

"He'd be a fool not to." Pam sipped from her bottle. "I know you want her. I see you trying to hide your fangs."

He turned to her and grinned broadly, showing off the fangs in question, then looked back at Sookie. "There's something strange about her. Did you notice?"

"Well, she certainly doesn't fit in here."

"That, too."

A short time later, Bill rose and headed for the bar. "Pam, go see what you can pry out of him," said Eric, nodding in Bill's direction. She obeyed immediately, as she always did, and Eric returned his attention to Sookie.

Never one to forego a bit of glamour, he concentrated on her face with a heated gaze, willing her to come back to his table. He called to her in a lover's voice, but she only stared at her hands. She wanted to look at him, oh yes; she was concentrating too much energy on not looking up, and for a moment her willpower gave way. She could feel him calling her, yet she resisted. He stopped the magic and frowned.

"He hasn't."

Eric started and turned to Pam as she sat down again. "What?"

"He hasn't slept with her."

"Pam, how crude of you to ask him such a question." They smiled at each other. "Anything else?"

"Nope. It took me long enough to get that out of him. I had to be subtle."

"I can't imagine how much that pained you." Pam glared at him as she sipped from her bottle, and Eric laughed. He became more serious, however, and leaned towards her. "Glamour doesn't work on her."

Pam evidently didn't know what to make of that, so they both sat in silence for a few minutes until Pam finished her drink and sighed. "Back to work. Hey, Long Shadow said he needs some more lemons for the bar, so I'm just gonna head to the store."

Eric nodded with disinterest and barely noticed her departure. Bill was leaning in very close to Sookie, and they seemed to be discussing something intently. He was trying to think of some errand that would effectively get rid of Bill for an hour, when the couple suddenly stood up and headed for him.

Bill gave him an urgent look and nodded towards the door, and Eric didn't need telling twice. He stood and made for the door, taking Celia (she was a good bouncer and was certainly one of his least obnoxious employees) with him.

"There's going to be trouble," he told Celia. "I'll give you a ride home."

"Oh… thanks, Master."

"You can thank me when we get there."

Eric smiled and leaned against his car, jangling his keys as he waited for Bill, Sookie, and an explanation. Bill and Sookie came running out moments later, and Eric raised his eyebrows at Bill, asking the silent question.

"There's going to be a raid."

Eric frowned. "How do you know?" There was a brief silence, and he began to suspect that Sookie had set this up. That explained the sweet dress, the politeness, the oddity…

"Me," she said, confirming his suspicion. He looked at her intently, waiting for her explanation. If she had betrayed him in some way, it would take more than Bill to save her ass, however tempting said ass might be. "I read a policeman's mind."

A psychic. That explained a lot. He felt his fangs running out again as he regarded her, and he remembered a night in New Orleans about two centuries earlier. A mulatto girl with soft skin, enormous eyes, and skilled hands. And in her dress, a stake, with which she had attempted to kill him when it was over. Such a waste.

Eric smiled at her. "That's interesting. I had a psychic once. It was incredible."

"Did the psychic think so?"

Sweet and sassy. Delectable. Eric tilted his head slightly and regarded her, noting with amusement that Bill seemed nervous and over-protective.

"For a while," he answered Sookie with a laugh.

The wail of sirens pierced the quiet, and he nodded to Celia to get in the car. Tonight at her house, in her bed, she would be standing in for Sookie Stackhouse. She probably wouldn't like it if she knew, but she would certainly enjoy the benefits.

* * *

The next several nights were spent dealing with the police in the aftermath of the raid. Did he know illegal activity was being conducted on the premises, and other mindless drivel. He masked his boredom with charm and dealt with it all swiftly. One line of questions, however, interested him in light of Sookie Stackhouse's questions in the bar. The police asked if he knew anything about "women who had been intimate with vampires" being murdered in Bon Temps. That shit finally sorted, his bar back in full swing and raking in money, he took the opportunity to call Bill.

"Pam!"

"Yeah?" she asked, walking into his office, hooking in an earring.

"Get Bill on the phone."

"Sure. And hey, that slut with the black hair and peroxide streaks has been asking about you again. She left three messages on the machine today, as if you would rise up from your slumber to call her back. Did you sleep with her or something?"

He glared at her. "I have some standards."

"You'll have to tell me about those some time." She met his glare with an unruffled, saucy look and picked up the phone, tapping her nails as she waited. "Bill, it's Pam." She paused. "Yeah, it's all taken care of. We reopened last night." Another pause. "Uh huh. Yeah, well, Eric wants to speak with you." She held the phone out to Eric, indicated her outfit with the other hand, and asked, "All good?"

"I am here," he said, twirling his finger for Pam to turn around.

"I assume you have some questions for me," said Bill.

"Yes. Naturally, I have questions." Pam raised her eyebrows, and Eric nodded and winked his approval. She gave herself one last look in the mirror and left to enter the bar. "What is this I hear about murders in Bon Temps? I assume this has to do with your friend Sookie and her questions the other night."

"It does," Bill replied coolly.

"Anything I should know? I don't want any more police asking about this in my bar."

"No, I don't think so. The women weren't murdered by vampires, I'm fairly positive."

"Why's that?"

"They hadn't been drained, and from what I understand, the bite marks weren't fresh."

"Good. I have too much to deal with to worry about a couple of dead fangbangers."

"Anything else?" Bill asked, and Eric smiled at his guarded tone.

"Now that you mention it, yes." He savored a long pause, then continued. "Sookie. Tell me about her. How did you discover she was psychic?"

"She's not actually psychic. She's telepathic. And it's a long story."

"I have an eternity, as do you."

"Eric, she's really none of your business. She's my... my girlfriend, and I'm sure she wants nothing to do with that whole world you have going. You'll probably never see her again."

Eric leaned forward in his chair, taking this in. "I will most definitely see her again."

"With every respect due to you, I tell you she's mine."

"While I do acknowledge that I want to fuck your girlfriend, and let's face it, someone has to—" He ignored Bill's growl and went on. "I mean simply that her gift will be useful to us, and I expect to take advantage of it when the need arises. Have you considered that she might want to use her gift?"

"There isn't a great deal of difference between us using her gift and using her." Eric said nothing, waiting. Bill sighed. "Let's talk about this later, when it actually comes up."

"Fair enough. One more question. Does the Queen know about our Miss Stackhouse?"

A long pause. "No."

"That will do for the time being. Bill..."

"What, Eric?"

Eric smiled at the younger vampire's annoyance, then became serious again. "Don't let anything happen to her. I rather like her."

Bill hung up.

* * *

Some time passed before he had occasion to think of Sookie again... that is, to a degree beyond fleeting thoughts and not-so-fleeting sexual fantasies. A little over sixty thousand dollars had gone missing from the bar, according to his and Pam's calculations, and he was (in the local vernacular) not a happy camper.

Eric dialed Bill's number and didn't bother with a preamble when the phone was answered. "Bill, I need Sookie." There was only silence on the other end. "Bill?"

"I heard you."

"Good. I'll be expecting to see you two this—"

"Does she have any choice?" Bill interrupted.

"Of course she has a choice," said Eric calmly. "I cannot say the same for you."

"What does that mean?"

"I think you know."

"Perhaps you could elaborate anyway."

"I need her talent. It shouldn't take a long time. It will cost her nothing. This shouldn't be difficult for you to talk her into, and that is what I expect you to do. If you don't bring her to me, I will assume you weren't convincing enough. Have I been clear?"

"You don't mind if I tell her you threatened her?"

Eric laughed, swinging his legs up onto the desk and reclining in his chair. "Tell her whatever you like, Bill. I need her. Bring her to me tomorrow night."

"Understood. And you understand that she is not to be harmed? If you hurt a hair on her head, your age and position will cease to mean anything to me."

"Is she still yours in word only?" Eric grinned into the stony silence. "Ah, I see. I hope you enjoyed her and gave her as much pleasure as I would have... and intend to." More silence. "I wouldn't dream of harming her. So few humans are both interesting and aesthetically pleasing. And even fewer are polite."

"We'll be there," said Bill.

Eric hung up the phone and leaned back again, crossing his arms behind his head. "Pam?" he called. "Call Bruce and Belinda and Ginger and tell them I want them here tomorrow night. Don't take 'no' for an answer."

"You know I never do," she yelled back.

"Good," he said to himself. He couldn't decide which prospect excited him more: locating his money, punishing the culprit, or savoring the sight and company of his telepathic Southern belle.

* * *

Sookie looked defiant and beautiful in blue jeans that hugged her ass and hips in just the right way, flaring slightly at the bottom over her sandals. The neckline of her blue top left too much to the imagination, but Eric had quite an imagination. Bill hovered near her, as he did the first night they'd come to Fangtasia.

Perhaps a bit of her Southern politeness would take the edge off. Though Eric addressed them both, his smile was for her. "Bill, Sookie." She nodded stiffly, but still said nothing, so he continued. Politely. "Bill, you and Sookie know Long Shadow. Sookie, you remember Pam. And this"—he motioned to the rather pathetic and annoying man seated across the desk—"is Bruce."

Bill sighed and moved closer to Pam and Long Shadow, who occupied one wall of the room, and Sookie seemed inclined to follow him. Either Bill had told her nothing, or she was pretending not to know why she had been summoned.

"Sookie, listen to Bruce," he told her, motioning to the man in question.

She blinked and seemed to be waiting for Bruce to speak, then comprehension dawned on her face. "What exactly am I listening for?"

She still seemed on edge, so he answered her succinctly and calmly. So few humans appreciated the compliment of frankness. Eric didn't really remember being human, but he was fairly sure that even then, he had valued directness.

"Someone has embezzled about sixty thousand dollars from us, and rather than put all our human employees to death or torture, we thought perhaps you would look into their minds and tell us who it was."

During this explanation, Sookie's blue eyes (her top made them seem even bluer) widened, especially at the mention of death and torture. But she took it in with a nod, and self-assurance set into her face. She looked at him directly. "And then what will you do?"

He might have known that this woman, of all humans, would ask that. Her eyebrows were raised in challenge as if she already knew his answer.

"Whoever it is will give our money back." This much was obvious, but Eric knew how to parry with the best of them.

So did Sookie. "And then?"

He met her eyes evenly. If a vampire had been responsible for this, Eric would deal with it according to his own laws. As things stood, however, it looked to be a human, and Fangtasia was much too lucrative to be endangered by the inevitable scandal that would follow the murder of a human.

"Why, if we can produce proof of the crime, we'll turn the culprit over to the police."

She crossed her arms over her chest. "I'll make a deal, Eric."

What a winsome creature she was, offering to make a deal with the devil. He wondered if she would accept a deal that involved her receiving the greatest pleasure of her life if she would give him one night with her. Bill be damned. But tonight, business.

"What would that be, Sookie?" he asked with genuine interest, unable to suppress a grin.

"If you really do turn the guilty person over to the police, I'll do this for you again, whenever you want. Yeah, I know I'd probably have to anyway, but isn't it better if I come willing, if we have good faith with each other?"

Eric lost track of the emotions that must have betrayed themselves across his face during this little speech. I already hold you in good faith, you silly woman, he longed to say—and would have if they were alone. Come into my thoughts now if you don't believe me. I could force you to do my bidding anytime, anywhere, just by threatening Bill or someone else you love. But I'm mainstreaming here. I'm obeying... most... of your human laws. I'm trying to be as honest with you now as a vampire can be with a human. I won't kill anyone if I don't have to.

She spoke again, and the sound of her voice jolted him from his thoughts. "Besides, how sure are you that the thief is a human?"

Eric rose to his feet a split second after Pam and Long Shadow bared their teeth in anger. He held his hand out, halting them, never taking his eyes from Sookie's face. "That's an interesting idea. Pam and Long Shadow are my partners in this bar, and if none of the humans is guilty, I guess we'll have to look at them." The idea of such a betrayal—especially if it were Pam—filled him with rage. Humans didn't know any better. Vampires...

Sookie seemed intimidated by the anger that stifled the room from so many directions. Her voice was quiet, subdued. "Just a thought."

Eric sat down again, impatient to get this over with. "Start now, with this man."

She knelt by Bruce, and Eric's feelings revolted at the idea of her kneeling to such a sad excuse of a person. Sweat rolled down his face and made him even more repulsive than he was usually. Sookie seemed unsure for a moment, took the man's hand, then moved her hand to his wrist, apparently satisfied.

"Did you take the money?" she asked.

Her voice was soft, and Eric wondered what she was thinking. Damn it. Damn her. She was here to listen to the thoughts of others, but the only thoughts he wanted to hear were hers.

Bruce denied taking the money and denied knowing who did.

Sookie stood and faced Eric, looking more confident now that she had begun her work. "Not this guy."

Eric nodded and signaled to Pam, who removed the sniveling Bruce from the room and returned with Ginger. Fuck. He turned away when the slut smiled at him, waiting for Sookie to deal with this one quickly.

"Hey, Sweetie," said Ginger.

He wondered where this woman had gotten the idea that he liked being called "Sweetie," much less by her. He didn't even look at her. "Ginger, answer this woman's questions."

"Yes, Master." He could hear the simper in her voice, and he closed his eyes in annoyance. There was a second of blessed silence, and then Ginger hissed, "Don't touch me!"

Eric turned towards her again with malice in his eyes. "Pam, hold Ginger still." He heard the edge in his own voice, and he looked away again.

"Did you take the money?" Sookie asked.

Ginger screamed, and Eric rolled his eyes to the ceiling, staring at the flat surface as if it could break away and lift, opening up the sky and providing escape. Sookie's voice brought him back to the present.

"She knows who did," said Sookie, speaking over Ginger's sobs. "She can't say the name. He has bitten her." She paused, and Eric watched as she made another attempt to get the name from Ginger's shit-addled brain. "It's some kind of compulsion. She can't even picture him."

"Hypnosis... a strong vampire," said Pam, echoing Eric's own thoughts.

"Bring in her closest friend," Sookie said. With every minute, she seemed more sure of herself, even speaking to Pam as if the two were equals.

"Should she stay or go?"

"She should go," Sookie advised. "It'll only scare someone else."

And she should go before I break her neck, Eric thought.

At another time, he would be wickedly pleased at the idea of Pam taking directions from a human. Under the circumstances, however, there was little pleasure to be had. A vampire had done this. A vampire who did not have much longer to live.

He rested his eyes on Sookie as Pam escorted the unhinged barmaid out of the room. In spite of everything, he saw that her mouth was turned up into a small smile. She was enjoying this. She did want to use her gift. If they had been alone, he would have backed her against the wall and kissed her with abandon—in a way Bill Compton had surely never kissed her.

Pam returned with Belinda; Eric liked this one. He'd had her once in this office and found her quite satisfactory.

"Belinda, what vampire has Ginger been seeing?" he asked her as Sookie took the barmaid's wrist.

"Anyone that would have her."

Eric smirked, but it faded quickly at the look on Sookie's face.

"Which one from here?" she asked.

Eric followed her gaze to the wall where Pam, Long Shadow, and Bill stood quietly, and he moved at the same time Long Shadow lunged. With lightning speed, he removed the stake and mallet from his desk, ran behind Long Shadow, and staked him.

He smelled the vampire's rotting blood, and he smelled Sookie's blood. He had wanted to taste that blood since the first night he saw her, but he hadn't thought it would be spilled like this. It should have oozed gently as he drew it into his mouth and licked it away from her skin. She should have been in his arms, arching her body into his hands. His fangs extended as he stared at her across the smoking remains of his former partner.

"You'll have to get you an area rug," she said.

Eric couldn't tear his eyes away from her lips. "Your mouth is bloody."

"He bled onto me," she said. Her eyes were wide with shock, intensely blue.

"Did any go down your throat?"

"Probably. What does that mean?"

It means that bastard gave you his blood, when you should have mine flowing in your veins.

"That remains to be seen," said Pam. "Usually, we drink from humans, not the other way around." Her voice sounded far away to Eric, though he knew she was right there, lusting after Belinda. He couldn't exactly blame her for that.

"How do things look to you now, Sookie?" he asked her. She was staring at him just as intently as he was staring at her. Sweet fuck, he wanted her, even with Long Shadow's blood fouling her body. He wanted to lift her onto his desk, tear open those jeans, cover every part of her body with his hands and his tongue, drink her blood and give her his.

She was speaking again, but the words barely registered. As she talked, the delicate movements of her neck made the blood shimmer, calling to him. It smelled so much sweeter than he could have imagined.

"Who's mixing the drinks tonight?" he heard her say.

"We got a substitute. You smell... different, Sookie."

He dropped the mallet and drew closer to her, pressing his tongue against his fangs. Where the hell was Bill Compton in all of this? Where was Bill when Long Shadow attacked his girlfriend? Where was Bill now that he, Eric, was about to claim Sookie on that desk? Eric didn't care.

"Well, remember now, Eric, we had a deal," said Sookie.

Yes, I remember. A deal with the devil.

Her smile was nervous. Fearful. As if she didn't realize the ecstasy he could give her. She backed away a little, an antelope seeing her fate in the eyes of the lion. "Bill and I are going home now, aren't we?" Her eyes searched for Bill, but she didn't seem to like what she saw there. "Pam," she said desperately, moving between Pam and Belinda, "get out of the way."

There was shuffling—movement—the door opened.

"Call Ginger," said Sookie.

"Ginger!" And then: "Eric wants you."

He took the woman's body into his arms as she writhed against him, and then the smell of her made him plummet back into his proper mind. He hated Ginger now, at this moment, more than he ever did. But his body's hunger was operating separately from his mind now, and he leaned over her, prepared to bite. Before he did, he looked at Sookie.

"I'll see you again," he said hoarsely.

Chapter Text

The first thing he'd have to do, he thought as he pored over Long Shadow's account book, was get rid of Bill. Of course, Bill could do nothing if Sookie chose Eric, but Eric knew that she would never do that as long as Bill was in her favor.

Desiree Sonnier had many personal charms, and Eric knew this firsthand. He had made quite a few trips to Monroe to visit her, and had occasionally summoned her to Fangtasia. He often sent her as a thank-you gift for services rendered. He paid the woman well, but frankly, it was like paying an alcoholic to drink a fine cognac. She took great pleasure in what she did; the money was a bonus. He had but to say the word, and Desiree was on her way to reward some lucky and deserving vampire in Area 5.

Tonight that vampire would be Bill Compton. Not so much as a thank you - after all, Bill had done nothing - literally nothing, even as his girlfriend was attacked - but as an alternative. Desiree was... gifted at what she did, and if any woman could turn Bill's head from Sookie, it would be her.

He told Pam to arrange for Desiree to go to Bill that night, ignored Pam's odd look in response, and turned back to business. But Long Shadow's records were convoluted, probably intentionally. Concentration was impossible. He cursed Sookie Stackhouse under his breath.

Why, why did it feel like she was under his skin, his desire for her a compulsion, a need? She wasn't the most beautiful woman he had seen. She wasn't the most graceful or articulate or charming or intelligent. He had resisted fairies better than he resisted this woman, for fuck's sake. He slammed the account book shut, leaned his elbows on the desk, and rested his forehead on steepled fingers.

He had killed a vampire for her. A vampire who had been a partner and a friend for many years. A traitorous, lying bastard in the end, but even so. More to the point, he should have kept Long Shadow alive so that he and Pam could extract information from him. Where was their money, and how had the bartender managed to embezzle it? He didn't much enjoy being $60,000 poorer, even if it was a relatively trifling sum.

There had been no time for thought or reasoning when Long Shadow attacked the girl. There had been a second to decide, and in that second, he chose her. What disturbed him, however, was the perfectly clear knowledge that he would do it again. After a thousand years, the earth was often terribly boring to him. Interesting people were too scarce to allow a sack of shit like Long Shadow to snuff one of them out. This, he told himself, was a rational explanation for what he had done.

It was certainly the only safe explanation.

* * *

Bill's phone call came at around closing time, when the humans were wiping tables and Pam was discarding elements of her costume right and left. Eric was the one who answered the phone.

"Fangtasia," he said shortly.

"Eric, what in the name of fuck were you thinking, sending that woman to me?"

He smiled broadly. "Ah, Bill. I take it Desiree arrived safe and sound."

"Answer me."

"Did she not tell you why I sent her? I like to reward people who do good work. I thought you would be pleased." As he spoke, he went into his office and shut the door.

"Bullshit," said Bill coldly.

"Was she not to your liking?" All innocence.

"What are you trying to do? Lure me away from Sookie? Tempt me to cheat so that she'll be the one who leaves me? That's just pathetic, Eric, and it's not going to work."

Eric sat down on the edge of his desk. "Let's make a deal, Bill." Now I sound like Sookie.

"I'm listening."

Eric stared up at the ceiling, thinking fast. It wasn't quite like him to offer a deal before he even knew what the terms of that deal would be. Hell, it wasn't like him to make a deal at all.

"I will let you have her--" Bill was already growling in protest, but Eric spoke over him. "You know that I have ways to take her away from you, ways that go far beyond flirting and seduction - both of which I will continue to do. That's only fair. I will let you have her if you promise to help me protect her, and if you leave her in my protection if anything happens to you." Realizing what Bill must be thinking (and rightfully so), he added: "I will not be the cause of anything happening to you."

Bill was silent, and Eric could almost hear the thoughts whirring in his head. Finally, he said, "I'm not sure I understand what you mean about leaving Sookie in your protection. I won't pass her on to you like one of those--"

"No," said Eric quickly. "No." Just the idea of Sookie being debased in that way made his blood boil.

"Please explain, then."

"If she is ever in danger, I want to know immediately. And I want her to trust me to some degree, which I don't believe she does now. I want you to give her your blessing to come to me if she ever must. In short, I want her to see me as a friend, not an enemy." Someday she would be even more, if he had his way. And he almost always had his way.

"Are you her friend, Eric?"

"Yes." His answer was immediate and firm, leaving no room for doubt, even from Bill.

"Then she'll see it herself." Eric waited in silence, then Bill went on. "I won't do or say anything to make her think otherwise."

"Thank you." The words slipped out before he thought about them, and they were certainly expressed with more feeling than he would have preferred.

* * *

There wasn't much opportunity to think about Sookie after that, as Eric set about the tedious business of reporting and making reparations for Long Shadow's death. There was also the business of finding a new bartender; he gave a scowling Pam the task of going through applications and performing initial interviews. The most unpleasant duty was his own: contacting Hot Rain, Long Shadow's maker and former lover. Hot Rain gave him a cordial greeting, but the pleasant conversation didn't last long, as Eric thought it best to get right to the point. The other vampire gave a loud shriek of mingled grief and rage. Eric winced, holding the phone away from his ear.

He vaguely remembered having been in love once when he was human, but those days were like shadows to him, moving through his mind in dark, smoky outlines with no names or other details filled in. Of more concern to him now was the realization that this would cost him far more than he'd originally expected. He had already known that the fine would be more than the amount Long Shadow actually embezzled. But he hadn't properly factored in the knowledge that Hot Rain loved the lying thief. Hot Rain stated his amount, and though it was customary to bargain during these dealings, Eric leaned back in his chair and said, "It will be wired tonight."

Sookie's life cost him half a million dollars. What bothered him more than the cost was the fact that he didn't really care.

* * *

On slow nights at the bar, it was his custom to take his laptop out to one of the booths. This allowed him to update the books, enthrall the patrons, and look too busy to be bothered. The height of efficiency and convenience. Of course, there were always those – Ginger – who could not be deterred. Tonight she sidled up to him for what must have been the fourth time. The expression on his face when he looked up at her must have triggered some dormant, sensible part of her brain, because she was fast and direct.

"Mr. Compton for you, Master." She handed him the phone and scurried off as fast as her tight leather corset and stilettos would allow.

Cradling the phone between his ear and shoulder, Eric returned to his work on the laptop. "What do you want, Bill?"

"Keeping up my end of the deal."

Eric pushed away the laptop and signaled one of the waitresses for a TrueBlood. "Continue."

"I'm going to New Orleans, which means Sookie will not have my protection from whatever murderer is out here in Bon Temps. I've called Bubba to come here and keep an eye on her, but I'm also letting you know, per our arrangement. That's all I had to tell you, so I'll just be g—"

"Why are you going to New Orleans?" He shook the bottle, removed the cap, and took a long sip.

"Personal business."

Eric gave a dry laugh. "Bill, stop bullshitting me."

He could practically hear the wheels turning in the younger vampire's head. Finally, Bill sighed. "I'm going to see Sophie-Anne. And it really is personal business."

"Suit yourself. I'll find out later."

"I'm sure you will. Do you want something else, Eric?"

"Yes. Tell Bubba that if anything goes wrong, he is to notify me immediately. That girl is too valuable an asset for us to risk losing." Why? his mind asked. You have known other telepaths.

"Did you consider that I might want to be notified immediately?" Bill was impatient, defensive, angry.

"And what purpose would that serve?" asked Eric reasonably. "You will be hours away in New Orleans, whereas I could fly to her in much less time."

There was no sensible argument to this, and Bill, to his credit, didn't attempt one. "Fine," he said. "I'll tell him."

Eric finished his TrueBlood and pushed the bottle to the edge of the table, then drew his laptop back in front of him. "Give my regards to the Queen," he said. They hung up at the same time.

* * *

As it happened, Bubba did call him out to Bon Temps, and Eric did leave Fangtasia immediately to go to Sookie, cursing under his breath the whole way. He feared the telepath was already dead, since Bubba reported that he had been knocked out and had no idea where Sookie was. He was furious at Bill for going to New Orleans when his girlfriend was in serious danger. He was furious at Bubba for getting himself knocked out. He was furious at Sookie for... for what, exactly? Getting under his skin and forcing him to give a flying fuck about something other than himself and his business? For wearing that church picnic dress to Fangtasia?

He needn't have worried, he learned when he found Bubba pacing in front of Bill's porch. She was injured but safe, taken to the hospital, the murderer dead. As he related these facts, Bubba looked forlorn at his failure to keep the girl from harm, but Eric had no patience for comforting. He drilled the half-idiot vampire until he had gleaned every possible fact.

He could feel the steady approach of dawn long before the first stars disappeared into the lightening sky. They would spend the evening at Bill's, it seemed.

Bill's house annoyed him. Everything was old, but not in a good way. Eric loved his antique possessions – indeed, anything that came wrapped in the smell of history. But Bill's possessions were old in the sense of being tired and shabby. In many ways, Bill had always seemed locked into the past, gathering dust along with his aged furniture. Bill seemed to have no concept of moving forward through history; he didn't bring artifacts of the past with him, but kept them instead as an anchor.

Eric rose just as the sun winked away from the horizon. He was finished in Bon Temps for now, and business called. But something kept him in the small town for one more errand. He called it courtesy... curiosity.

The florist was just setting his "Closed" sign in the window when Eric strode in. When the stocky man opened his mouth in protest, Eric raised a hand to silence him. "I will not keep you," he said. "I know what I want."

"Fine," the man huffed.

"A flamingo lily. You have them?" The man nodded. "Excellent. I want this arrangement--" he indicated the one he meant "--with a flamingo lily added as the centerpiece."

As the florist readied the arrangement, Eric signed the small white card to accompany it. He unfolded some hundreds from his pocket and dropped them on the counter, barely registering the florist's wide eyes, and he left with the flowers. A call to Bill provided his destination, along with the hissed knowledge that Sookie "damned well would not" want to see him. He didn't mind; she wouldn't always feel that way. He left the flowers with the nurse at the front desk.

Eric grinned as he stepped outside the hospital and looked up at the full moon. So many beasties would be out to play tonight, and Fangtasia would be crowded because tourists loved visiting a vampire bar when the moon was full.

Warm summer air filled his unmoving lungs as he flew upward towards the moon. His sharp eyes could see into the windows from a fair distance, and he circled the building until he found her. He flew closer, allowing his eyes to linger on her bruised body. Even without her sweet smell to tempt him, he wanted her. Her eyes moved to the window, met his, and widened.

He smiled at her before he turned and flew away.

Chapter Text

The email from Sophie-Anne – well, from one of her assistants – was waiting for him when he returned to his office. So Bill Compton was now an investigator for Area 5. "Consider him and his possessions officially under your protection." Eric couldn't keep from smirking. Personal business, indeed. Well done, Bill. Leave your girlfriend alone when she's in serious danger, so you can run to the Queen in an effort to keep me from stealing said girlfriend. Apparently my charms are a greater threat to Sookie's well-being than a serial killer. It screamed of insecurity, yet the younger vampire seemed to be perfectly secure in his belief that Sookie would never leave him willingly. Humans weren't exactly "possessions," since they could choose to belong to another. Did Bill honestly believe that this was impossible? And hadn't he, Eric, already told Bill that he wanted Sookie under his protection? Eric rolled his eyes and deleted the email.

Another message, this one from a subject in Monroe. A maenad had been spotted in the woods some ten miles outside the city. Images of St. Petersburg and the maddened vampire, Gregory, poured into his mind, but he banished them. By the gods, he hoped this one would stay far away from Fangtasia. But if anyone had the pride to attract the Bassarid, it would be himself. He smiled in spite of himself, sending the email to the "Saved" folder.

* * *

Some weeks later, he received the call from Stan Davis. It was early evening, only about 7:00, and the bar hadn't yet filled up with its usual crowd. Eric slouched casually in a booth across from Pam, tweaking numbers in a spreadsheet on his laptop while she flipped through the pages of Redbook.

His eyes fell on one page of the magazine. "'Easy 10-Minute Meals,' Pam?" he asked, smirking. "Not hard to find those around here."

"You would know," she retorted.

He laughed and returned to his spreadsheet. Pam was always good company: smart, amusing, no emotional baggage. No emotions of any kind, it often seemed, but he found that relaxing. He sometimes wondered what it would be like to be so dispassionate. More convenient for himself, certainly, but he imagined it would make life even more boring than it already was.

The phone, which was sitting on the tabletop between them, started to ring, and Pam answered. "Fangtasia, where all your darkest dreams c—Oh, hey. Yeah, he's right here." She held the phone across the table and returned to her magazine.

"I am here."

"Sheriff, hello. I am calling on behalf of Stan Davis of Area 6 in Texas." The voice paused, as if waiting for some kind of reaction to this, but Eric had none, so he continued. "We have a vampire who has gone missing from the nest, and Stan wants to know if you have an investigator we can borrow."

"Are there not several investigators in Dallas?" Eric asked.

"None that are especially skilled, Mr. Northman. But you rarely seem to have trouble over where you are, so we figured you had good people."

Eric smiled. "Oh, I have very good people. Very expensive people." Pam looked up and grinned at him as he waited out the long silence on the other end.

"Define 'very good,'" the voice said at last.

"I have a telepath."

"No shit? I heard they had one of them up in Montana back in—"

"I could not care less about that," Eric interrupted. "What are you willing to pay for her?"

"Um… can I call you back?"

"Sure. And while you're at it, I want lodging, transportation, and full amenities thrown in as well. Not just for the telepath, but for her escort. She will not be sent to you alone under any circumstances."

"Got it. We'll get back to you soon."

Eric turned off the phone and went back to his work. He studiously ignored Pam's eyes on him until she gave up and returned to her magazine. That was another great thing about Pam. She didn't care enough about anything to trouble anyone, including herself.

He was surprised when only five minutes passed before the phone rang again. This time he picked it up. "Yes."

"Ten thousand, on top of everything you require."

"Done. I will contact you when I have arranged it." He hung up and smiled at Pam. "Time to call Bill. Sookie's going to Dallas."

Pam raised an eyebrow. "As are you, I take it."

"What does that mean?"

"Oh, I think you know," she said, her eyes back on a Redbook advice column.

Yes, Pam was smart.

* * *

Sookie would be arriving with Bill later that evening, and Eric was not at all pleased at the extent of his anticipation. One night he may simply have to take her and get it over with so that his irrational fascination with her would disappear. He told himself that if his lust were satisfied, he would be able to stop thinking of her as often as he did. But if he did take her, if he claimed her on the leather couch here in his office, would he not then want to have her in other positions, other places? His eyes wandered to the couch in question, and he imagined her there, draping her smooth, tanned leg over his hip… His fangs ran out, and he closed his eyes. Damn her.

There was commotion outside, and he clearly heard the voices of Pam and Bill. Just as he stood, Bill burst through the door of his office with Sookie slung over his shoulder. Sookie was covered in her own blood, and it smelled like Valhalla. Eric's fangs were still extended, and he touched his lips with the tip of his tongue, waiting for an explanation from Bill.

Bill shook Sookie, and Eric imagined that that couldn't have felt good. "This is on your account!" he said furiously.

Before Eric could answer, Sookie's weak voice came from over his shoulder. "Go to hell."

"What, my darling?" Bill asked.

"Go to hell!" she repeated.

Eric grinned. Every time he came in contact with this woman, she won more points in her favor. But there was no time to think about that. She was losing blood, and she had to be in a great deal of pain. He could argue with Bill – and fantasize about Sookie – later.

He moved out from behind his desk and approached the pair. "We must lay her on her stomach on the couch. Here, let me," he added, reaching for her legs. They set her down gently, and Eric fought a smile when he realized that here she was, indeed, on his couch. Not quite the circumstances he had been picturing, but even so. He looked up and saw Pam in the doorway, eyeing Sookie's bloodied body with lust. "Pam, call the doctor," he told her firmly, then crouched next to the sofa. He wanted to lick the blood from her face, whisper to her, smooth her hair with his fingers. He wanted to make love to her; he wanted to fuck her senseless. Later. Patience. Instead he asked, "What has happened to you?"

Her eyes were on fire, and he admired her spirit. "I am a message to you. This woman in the woods made Bill's car stop, and maybe even made us argue, and then she came up to me with this hog."

Eric's eyes widened as he remembered the recent email about the maenad in the area. "A pig?" he repeated.

"Oink, oink," Sookie said dryly. "Razorback. Wild pig. And she said she wanted to send you a message, and I turned in time to keep her from getting my face, but she got my back, and then she left."

Anger flared up inside him at the thought of the maenad scarring Sookie's lovely, defiant face. It would be a crime against art, against whatever gods there were, against him. He suspected that the maenad might come after him, but Sookie had never entered the equation.

Bill was pacing the office. "Your face. She would have gotten your face. Eric, her cuts are not so deep. What's wrong with her?"

Eric ignored Bill and addressed Sookie as tenderly as he could through his fury. Her face was so close to his, he could have leaned in only a few inches to kiss her. "Sookie, what did this woman look like?"

"She looked nuts, I'll tell you how she looked. And she called you Eric Northman."

"That's the last name I use for human dealings," he explained. For many centuries it had been Eric the Norseman. He needed to draw her back to the maenad. "By looking nuts," he said slowly, "you mean she looked… how?" He knew what the slang word "nuts" meant, but he needed a more detailed description of the creature if he were to have any kind of certainty.

"Her clothes were all ragged, and she had blood around her mouth and in her teeth, like she'd just eaten something raw." Which, no doubt, she had. "She was carrying this kind of wand thing," Sookie continued, "with something on the end of it. Her hair was long and tangled." She paused, her misery clearly written on her face. "Look, speaking of hair, my hair is getting stuck to my back."

Eric looked at the swollen, bloody tatters of flesh on her back, where her long hair was indeed adhering to her wounds. "Yes, I see." He allowed himself to touch her as he carefully guided her hair away from the raw skin.

Just as he finished, Pam returned with Dr. Ludwig. Eric rose to his feet and moved out of her way, crossing his arms as he watched her work on Sookie.

"What kind of doctor are you?" Sookie asked.

Eric smiled as the small woman answered, "The healing kind. You have been poisoned."

Sookie's voice was dismal. "So that's why I keep thinking I'm gonna die."

"You will, quite soon." Dr. Ludwig, always direct. That was one of the reasons Eric liked her and kept her close. He had no time to waste on the alternative.

"Thanks a lot, Doc," Sookie said sarcastically, winning another smile from Eric, even though she couldn't see him. "What can you do about that?"

His mind wandered as the doctor explained maenad bites to Sookie. He had been bitten in St. Petersburg, and the pain was something he would not soon forget. It must be even worse for a human. The mention of blood pulled him back into the present.

"Your bloodstream has been compromised," Dr. Ludwig was saying. "And your blood must be removed and replaced. That is a job for the vampires." She turned away from Sookie and addressed the vampires in question, who – if Eric's own feelings were any indication – were positively giddy at this prospect. "If only one of you takes the poisoned blood, that one will be pretty miserable. It's the element of magic that the maenad imparts. The Komodo dragon bite would be no problem for you guys. So, when I'm finished, each of you take a turn, removing just a little. Then we'll give her a transfusion."

Eric looked at Sookie, who was crying now. He wanted to shake the tiny doctor and demand that she hurry the fuck up. Sookie was in pain, and he was practically salivating at the thought of tasting this woman's blood for the first time. The circumstances were not ideal, but he didn't care at this point. But it would take all his concentration and restraint to remove "just a little."

Sookie's pained voice came from the couch. "Of human blood," she said with resolve. She didn't quite realize what she was asking, but Eric would give it. There wasn't a great deal he wouldn't give this woman, and that disturbed him on a fundamental level.

Dr. Ludwig was the one who answered her. "If Eric can pull some strings and get the human blood, at least half the transfusion can be synthetic. I'm Dr. Ludwig, by the way."

Eric always had strings available to pull. "I can get the blood, and we owe her the healing. What is your type, Sookie?"

"O positive."

Perfect. "That shouldn't be a problem. Can you take care of that, Pam?" He met his child's eyes across the room, and she was gone in a flash.

He turned back to the couch, where Dr. Ludwig was beginning her ministrations on Sookie's back. How he envied that tiny woman at this moment! Sookie made a sharp sound of protest, and Bill tried to soothe her with an explanation.

"But she'll get poisoned!" Sookie protested.

Eric spoke to her firmly, as if she were a panicking child. "She is the healer. You must accept her treatment."

"Oh, all right," she said in a voice that was both submissive and defiant. "By the way, I haven't heard an 'I'm sorry' from you yet."

He was amused, but he kept his voice conciliatory, with only a trace of mockery. "I am sorry that the maenad picked on you."

"Not enough."

He could tell that she was on the edge of unconsciousness. A little teasing would help her hang on, and, after all, he couldn't keep from grinning at her boldness. "Angelic Sookie," he crooned, "vision of love and beauty, I am prostrate that the wicked, evil maenad violated your smooth and voluptuous body, in an attempt to deliver a message to me." In a way, it was true, he thought. She was still crying in pain, and he wanted to kneel beside her and lick away her tears.

"That's more like it," she said. "I take it the message means that she's going to war with you?"

"Not exactly," he said vaguely, noticing that she was losing color rapidly. Her face was almost completely white. If Dr. Ludwig let this woman die… He clenched his fists. Where was the damned blood? "Pam?"

Pam stepped beside him. "It's on the way. This is bad."

"Start! She's changing color!" demanded Bill, his face lined with worry.

They were losing her. The only thing keeping her conscious at this point was the pain, and she had started to cry out openly. Eric gave a sharp look to Dr. Ludwig, who was looking intently into Sookie's eyes.

"Yes," said the doctor, "if there's to be any hope."

Ignoring all the others, Eric sped to Sookie's side. He would go first. He was tired of wasting time. As he leaned in to her, he caught her eyes and winked. There wasn't another way he could think of, at this moment, to assure her that he would take care of her and to try to soothe her. But she only lasted another second before she sank into the relief of unconsciousness.

His fangs ran out. "The shirt will have to come off," he said. Bill made a sound of angry protest, but Eric raised his hand to silence him. "There is no other way to do this."

He lifted Sookie slightly as Bill came to her side and gently removed the garment. Eric helped him with the back, since pieces of the shirt had gotten stuck in her blood. It was a mercy that she slept through this. Eric spared a moment to admire her breasts; it would have been an insult not to. They were everything he had imagined, and that was saying a great deal.

"Eric!" said Bill.

Grinning at the younger vampire, he lowered his head to Sookie's back and began to draw the poisoned blood up from her wounds. As he did this, Bill raised Sookie slightly and slipped under her, holding her upper body in his lap.

Even through the maenad's terrible magic, he could taste the sweetness of her. He was getting aroused, but there was no help for that. He groaned with pleasure as her blood filled his mouth, and he swirled his tongue around his teeth, not wanting to miss a single drop. After a time, with great reluctance, he raised his head, his eyes hazy with want.

"I shouldn't take any more," he said. "Bill?"

As Bill moved to take Eric's former position, Eric began to move where Bill had been. He wanted to hold her as Bill had done, and no, his reasons were not entirely pure. But, he told himself, they weren't completely impure, either.

"What are you doing?" Bill asked, narrowing his eyes.

"It's easier this way," Eric said. "You have better access to her back."

"And you have better access to her breasts," Bill muttered, but he said nothing more as he leaned to draw more of the poison out of Sookie's body.

Eric was proud of himself for being so good; he didn't lay a hand on her breasts. No: the first time he put his hands to them, he would be alone with her, and she would be conscious. He swept his tongue around his mouth again, hoping that her taste would still be there somewhere.

He saw Pam watching them with interest. "You should get Chow," he said. "We need more than three for this."

The four of them took turns holding her and drawing her blood. When Dr. Ludwig returned to do the transfusion, she must have been amused at the idea of being in a room with a dying woman and four very turned-on, frustrated vampires.

Pam leaned towards him to whisper in his ear. "She's so…" Her thickened voice trailed off.

"Yes," he said.

After an anxious few minutes, Dr. Ludwig turned to them. "She will recover."

Bill gave a visible sigh of relief, running his hands through his messy hair. "Thank you."

"Stay with her," Eric told Pam. "I will go with Bill and Chow out to the bar. She can wear one of my shirts when she wakes up."

"Why me?" Pam asked.

"She'll feel more comfortable, I think, with a woman instead of a man."

Pam smirked. "Not her boyfriend?"

"He needs to calm down," Eric said sensibly.

"You're the boss."

Hours later, Pam came out to let them know that Sookie was awake and showered, waiting in the office. Bill jumped up that second to go to her, and Pam took his place.

"How does she look?" Eric asked her.

"Oh, she's fine. Rather miffed that we all saw her breasts, but otherwise undamaged."

Eric laughed. "Good. Go ahead and lock the place up. Pay Dr. Ludwig whatever she requires." Pam left, and he called over his shoulder, "Chow! Come with me."

The new bartender followed him to the office, where they found Bill brushing out Sookie's wet hair. Eric almost bit his tongue. Sookie was sitting in his chair, wearing his shirt, not wearing a bra, not wearing pants. The heat of the shower had brought all her blood and all her scents up to the surface, and the room was filled with her. He had never wanted anyone, human or vampire, more badly.

"All locked up," Pam said, slipping into the room behind him, startling him out of his reverie. "Dr. Ludwig left, too."

Sookie looked embarrassed, but she met their eyes in turn. "Thank you all for saving my life."

"It was truly my pleasure," said Chow smugly. "It would have been perfect without the poison."

"It was worth ingesting the poison." Eric grinned at her and kissed his fingertips.

"Any time, Sookie," Pam added.

Sookie leaned her head back against Bill and thanked him as well. Though Bill was plainly uncomfortable with the fact that three other vampires had tasted his girlfriend that evening, he replied, "It was my privilege."

Enough sentimental claptrap. "You two had a fight before Sookie's encounter with the maenad? Is that what I heard Sookie say?"

Sookie glared at him. "That's our business." Ah, touchy. Eric turned and smiled slightly at Pam. All was not well with Bill and his human. "By the way," she continued, "why did you want us to come over here tonight, anyway?"

Stan Davis and his missing nestmate were at the very back of his mind at this point, but he drew them back up to the fore. "You remember your promise to me, Sookie?" he asked gently. He was sincere in his desire not to upset her again; she had been through enough tonight, and he wanted her to be in a good mood when he told her about her assignment. "That you would use your mental ability to help me out, as long as I let the humans involved live?"

"Of course I remember," she said, and she sounded defensive.

"Since Bill has been appointed investigator of Area 5, we have not had a lot of mysteries. But Area 6, in Texas, has need of your special asset. So we have loaned you out."

She seemed to be processing this, but she didn't take her eyes off his. At last she said, "I won't go without Bill."

He grinned at her, realizing that his fangs were still extended. Well, no harm in her knowing that he wanted her. "He'll be there. We drove a hard bargain. We were afraid they might keep you or kill you, so an escort was part of our deal all along. And who better than Bill?" Me! "If anything should render Bill incapable of guarding you, we will send another escort right out. And the vampires of Dallas have agreed to providing a car and chauffeur, lodgings and meals, and of course, a nice fee. Bill will get a percentage of that. You must work out your financial arrangement with Bill. I am sure he will at least recompense you for your time away from your bar job."

The end of his little speech was meant to annoy Bill, naturally, and by the look on the younger vampire's face, it seemed to have worked.

But Sookie had already shifted to another subject. "Why a maenad?" she asked. "Naiads are water and dryads are trees, right? So why a maenad, out there in the woods? Weren't maenads just women driven mad by the god Bacchus?"

He stared at her, this little barmaid with her knowledge of classical mythology – not to mention her ability to take it in stride when a vampire painted her boyfriend as her pimp. "Sookie," he said slowly, "you have unexpected depths." He didn't know what else to say. In fact, he didn't really remember the question.

Chow was the one who answered her, explaining just why a maenad would have issues with a proud bar owner.

"We had only heard rumors one was in the area, until Bill brought you in," Eric added.

"So what was she warning you of?" Sookie asked. "What does she want?"

"Tribute, we think," said Pam.

"What kind?" None of them answered. "Or what?" Again the room was silent. Sookie was getting impatient. "What's she gonna do if you don't pay her tribute?"

"Send her madness," said Bill darkly.

"Into the bar? Merlotte's?"

Eric looked at Chow and Pam, giving them silent permission to be more open with her, and Chow answered, "Or into one of us. It has happened. The Halloween massacre of 1876, in St. Petersburg."

Eric shuddered. "I was there. It took twenty of us to clean up. And we had to stake Gregory. It took all of us to do that. The maenad, Phryne, received tribute after that, you can be sure."

Sookie was staring up at him with wide eyes. For himself, he was surprised that he had been so forthcoming about such an unpleasant piece of his past. But there was plenty more where that came from.

"So you'll give a tribute to this maenad?" Sookie asked.

"Yes, it is better if we do," he replied.

Bill looked uneasy. "I guess maenads are pretty hard to kill."

He thought of Phryne and the bloody ruin she left behind her. She was probably still alive today, though the gods only knew where. "Oh, yes." He looked at Sookie, who finally looked as afraid as she should be. "Oh, yes." Watching the movement of her throat as she swallowed, he said in a lighter voice, "Dallas. Will you go?"

She nodded but said nothing.

"When?" Bill asked.

"Soon. I will contact you."

They left soon after, and Eric settled into his chair, which was still warm from Sookie's body. He himself had some preparations to make, since he was going to Dallas as well.

Chapter Text

Eric drove to Dallas on Friday night and arrived at Stan Davis' nest before Bill and Sookie did. He introduced himself as Leif from California – an alias he used frequently – and was greeted politely by the other vampires. After his brief tour of the house, he waited for news of his investigator and telepath, masking his impatience by being especially talkative.

He smelled Sookie's presence long before word spread around the room that Stan was meeting with some visitors from Louisiana. Her scent was like crisp, clean air cutting into the stink of a sewer.

Some time later, the one named Isabel came into the room where he was chatting to several others. "The sheriff wishes to see you, Leif," she said.

He followed Isabel into the room where the others were waiting, careful not to glance at Bill and Sookie, and smiled as Isabel introduced him to Stan.

Stan gave him a cursory nod. "Leif, welcome to my nest. This evening we have a problem here."

"How may I help you?" Eric asked, very much the innocent and helpful visitor. He allowed himself a look around the room, but didn't let his eyes rest on the subject they most wanted to see. She was standing close to Bill, and both of them seemed much too tense.

"It seems that someone has entered this room and performed an act of spying."

Eric smiled and replied calmly, "I am a visitor to your nest, and I have no problem with you or any of yours." He was about to go into his made-up story about why he came from California, but Sookie spoke first.

"Excuse me. The uh... item would have had to be put in here earlier than today to get the details of our arrival in Dallas." She hesitated as if waiting for Stan to reply, but the sheriff said nothing. "And excuse me," she went on after a moment, "but I am really worn out. Could Bill take me back to the hotel now?"

"We will have Isabel take you back by yourself."

Eric swallowed a protest. They couldn't have any good reason for separating Sookie from Bill. If she did indeed leave with Isabel, he would have to find a way to make a casual exit and follow them.

"No, sir," said Sookie firmly. Good girl.

"No?" Stan repeated.

"By the terms of my contract, I don't go anywhere without a vampire from my area." She lifted her chin, and Eric hoped he wasn't beaming with pride. "Bill is that vampire," she continued. "I go nowhere without him, at night."

Eric looked at Stan, who was regarding Sookie as though she were something alien to him. She was, of course. She was something set apart from all of them.

When Stan finally gave them permission to go, Bill and Sookie made a hasty exit, followed by Isabel. Eric caught Bill's eye as they passed, but Sookie did not glance his way.

"Humans," muttered Stan with a roll of his eyes. "Tasty little thing, though, isn't she?"

I'm glad you don't know just how tasty. "I imagine so," he replied with a shrug.

"And how long will you be with us, Eric?"

So Stan deserved the position he held. Eric met the other sheriff's eyes evenly. "Until her work here is done. I have no interest in interfering with you or your nest."

"Fine," Stan nodded. "I don't want any more trouble than we've had already."

* * *

He bought a room at the Silent Shore and glamored the young desk clerk into revealing Sookie's room number. After tossing his bag carelessly into his own room, he made his way to the room in question. Just as he raised his hand to knock, he heard the unmistakable shuffling, panting, and kissing indicative of Sex About to Happen. He knocked.

"Go away," came Bill's voice.

Not a chance. "I need to talk to you," he said, speaking close to the door.

He heard Sookie's frustrated voice next. "Nooo. Say it isn't Eric."

Grinning broadly at the door, he replied, "It's Eric."

A few moments later, Bill unlocked and opened the door, glaring at Eric with malice in his eyes. "Eric... What?"

"May I come in?"

Bill stepped aside, and Eric strode into the room, his eyes falling on the torn scraps of Sookie's underwear. Well, well.

"What do you want, Eric?" Bill asked again.

"I just came to tell you that you did well this evening." There was a soft click from the direction of the bathroom, and Eric watched Sookie as she emerged in a short bathrobe. "And, of course, you were marvelous, Sookie." His throat felt suddenly dry. He calculated the consequences of shoving Bill from the room, locking the door, and teaching Sookie about true pleasure.

She narrowed her eyes. "Oh, thanks so much for coming up to tell us this. We couldn't have gone to bed without a pat on the back from you."

"Oh, dear, did I interrupt something?" he asked with a smile. He picked up one of the scraps from the floor. "Would these – well, this – be yours, Sookie?" It was difficult to continue smiling now that he was distracted by the vision of her actually wearing the thong.

Sookie's only response was an angry glare, so Bill spoke for her. "In a word, yes. Is there anything else you would like to discuss with us, Eric?"

"We haven't got time tonight since daylight is so soon, and there are things I need to see to before I sleep." Like ordering room service and fucking her against the wall. "But tomorrow night we must meet. When you find out what Stan wants you to do, leave me a note at the desk, and we'll make an arrangement."

"Goodbye, then," said Bill.

He looked around the room, then rested his eyes on Sookie. "You don't want a nightcap? Warm from the vessel?"

They were both silent, and Eric took a few steps backwards out the door, never looking away from Sookie until Bill closed the door. The lock slid in place.

"You think he's listening outside?" Sookie asked.

He didn't linger to hear more.

On his hall, an attractive blond in hotel uniform looked up from her cart. "A drink before dawn, sir?" she asked.

He eyed the bottle of TrueBlood she offered, then looked at her. "Your neck or your thigh?" he murmured, stepping close to her.

"Oh my God," she breathed.

She called on her god many more times before he was through with her.

* * *

The next thing he was aware of was his cell phone ringing. "What," he mumbled into it.

"Sookie," said Bill's voice. "The Fellowship has Sookie."

"Shit." He leapt from the bed, still naked, and unzipped his bag with so much force that he almost ripped it. The pinstripe suit inside was a little wrinkled, but it would serve well enough. "How do you know this?" he asked as he threw on his clothes.

"One of the hotel employees, Barry, is a telepath, apparently. Sookie... well, connected with him and told him where to find her. I am on my way there now."

"Save some of the fuckers for me," Eric snarled.

"I think you should stay at the hotel. What if she contacts Barry again?"

He sighed and sat on the bed. He hated to concede the point, especially when there was potential killing involved. "Very well. Does Stan know what's going on?"

"Yes."

"Good. Call me when you have her." Before Bill could respond, he had already flipped the phone shut. "Shit," he said again, flopping back on the flimsy bed. "Shit."

He spent a few minutes lying there, imagining creative ways to kill anyone who harmed Sookie, then left his room in search of Barry. He was directed to the reception desk, where he found the young man chatting with another employee.

"Can I help you, sir?" the other one, a female, asked.

"Barry," he said shortly. "Come with me." He led Barry to the small lounge where the hotel served its continental breakfast to the human guests each morning. Tossing some hundred dollar bills on the table, he said, "Sit."

"C-can I help you?" Barry asked. His fear didn't seem to have prevented him from shoving the bills into his pocket.

Eric paced, then turned on his heel. "Tell me everything you heard from Sookie. Every detail you remember."

As Barry related his disjointed "conversation" with Sookie, Eric continued to pace, interrupting with an occasional question. There was nothing further he could do at the moment, he realized with frustration. Barry left, and Eric sat down in the chair he had occupied.

He spent the next few hours outside the hotel, standing on the sidewalk with his hands in his pockets. Fucking useless, he thought. Bill called twice: first to report that Sookie had somehow escaped the Fellowship on her own, though she was injured and had to be taken to the hospital; secondly to tell Eric that Sookie had left the hospital and was... who knew where? He also heard from Stan, who told him about the nest's raid on the Fellowship. Godfrey, who had started this whole mess, had escaped.

And for himself? Nothing to do but wait. As it happened, he was glad to be there.

A car pulled up to the hotel sidewalk. The door opened, and Sookie – blindfolded with a scarf – stepped out. "Sookie!" he exclaimed, starting towards her. The door slammed, the car peeled away, and Sookie was left standing there, trying to unknot her blindfold with shaking fingers. "Sookie?" he said again.

"Eric?"

She still hadn't succeeded with the blindfold, so he reached behind her and pulled it off in one easy motion. She was a mess. Her face was bruised and bloody, not to mention the rest of her body. She seemed to have shards of glass embedded in her arm. Her clothing was barely hanging onto her. Another time he might have taken a moment to admire the swell of her breasts behind the missing buttons or the smooth line of her leg underneath her torn skirt, but he was too occupied with anger.

He took her arm – gently, he hoped – and steadied her. Could she be convinced to take his blood? No, Bill would be furious, and Bill could heal her just as well. He looked down at her and tried to determine why he wanted to give his blood to her. As with every other time he thought about this, no answer came to him.

"What has happened to you?" he asked her.

"I got..." She paused and shook her head. "Well, it's hard to explain in a second. Where is Bill?"

He told her about Bill's adventures that night, frustrated again that he had taken no part in them. "And then there was no trace of you," he concluded. "The doorman had only heard the once from you, mentally."

"Poor Barry. Is he all right?"

Eric gave her a wry smile. "The richer for several hundred dollars, and quite happy about it. Now we just need Bill." This time his smile turned into something more genuine. "What a lot of trouble you are, Sookie," he said, taking out his cell phone and dialing Bill.

"What have you heard?" Bill asked without preamble.

"Bill, she is here. Some shapeshifters brought her in."

"Is she hurt? They said she shouldn't have left the hospital."

"Battered, but walking," he replied. He realized that he was still holding her arm.

"Does she still have her key?"

Eric repeated the question to Sookie, who searched her pockets. "Yes," she replied as relief flooded her face.

"Good," said Bill, hearing her.

"Oh, wait!" she exclaimed. "Did they get Farrell?"

"Yes, tell her that they—" Bill began, but Eric interrupted him, raising his hand to indicate that Sookie should wait a minute. He knew the story already, and he could tell her on the way to her room. She had to be hurting, and the sooner he started helping her, the better.

"Bill, I'll take her up and start doctoring."

"No!"

He thought of many choice and profane words for Bill Compton in that moment, but he said only, "Bill..." Now was no time for the younger vampire's petty jealousy. Sookie needed attention, and she shouldn't have to wait for her boyfriend to arrive to administer it.

Bill sighed. "Just don't give her any blood."

"All right then. Goodbye." He flipped the phone shut and nodded in the direction of the hotel's front doors. He walked slowly as she hobbled beside him, keeping his hand under her elbow to help support her. "Yes, Farrell is safe," he told her as they walked. "They raided the Fellowship."

"Did... did many people get hurt?" she asked, looking up at him with wide eyes.

"Most of them were too frightened to approach. They scattered and went home. Farrell was in an underground cell with Hugo."

"Oh, yes, Hugo," she said. "What happened to Hugo?"

He looked at her, wondering how she could be thinking of all these other nobodies when she herself was so shaken and hurt. She should think only of herself right now. She was certainly the only person or thing on his own mind.

"May I carry you?" he asked. They reached the elevator, and he pressed the round plastic button. It was still a long walk to her room.

"Oh, I don't think so," she said lightly. "I've made it this far."

He stared up at the lights that indicated the elevator's position on the floors above. She was proud and stubborn, traits he ordinarily admired. Now they frustrated him, though he understood the desire to regain control after a situation in which she had been held and abused against her will. Could it be also that she still didn't trust him? Did she fear him?

The elevator reached them at last, and he followed her on. He pressed the button for her floor and leaned against the wall, watching her. She met his eyes for a moment, then her gaze shifted to the wall behind him. The elevator was lined with mirrors, and he knew what she was seeing for the first time.

"Oh, no... oh, no." She reached up to her hair, of all things, and her face crumpled in tears.

He couldn't bear her crying, not someone as brave and proud as she was. Not someone whose tears probably tasted sweeter than any other person's. "Sookie, a bath and clean clothes and you will be put to rights," he said gently. Would she resist if he tried to embrace her?

She blinked and forced a smile. "The werewolf thought you were cute." Her attempt to cheer herself didn't work because she began to cry even harder.

The elevator door slid open. They stepped into the long hallway, and he folded her into his arms, holding her close.

"The werewolf?" he repeated, speaking against her disheveled hair. "Sookie, you have had adventures tonight."

It was the first time he had held her, really held her, alone with her, and he felt as if he were absorbing her warmth like a sponge. As she sobbed against him, her tears released the scent of the dried blood on her face. He bit his tongue, refusing to allow his fangs to extend.

She stepped back from him suddenly. "Oh, I'm so sorry," she said quickly. He didn't realize that she was talking about his suit until she started to dab his shirt with the scarf that had served as her blindfold.

"Don't cry again. Just don't start crying again, and I won't mind taking this to the cleaners. I won't even mind getting a whole new suit." The corners of her mouth pulled up, and then her shaking sobs turned into a small laugh. "Something funny?" he asked curiously.

Shaking her head, she unlocked the door to her room. She limped inside with a wince and tossed the scarf onto the bed. He knew instinctively that what she wanted was a bath. The idea excited him in spite of himself. He had never claimed to be perfect. And he did want to help her.

"I'll help you into the tub if you like, Sookie."

Her voice was light and carefree as she refused, as he knew she would. "Oh, I don't think so."

He smiled. "I'll bet you are a treat, naked."

"You know it," she replied as she eased herself into a chair. "I'm just as tasty as a big éclair, though at the moment I feel more like boudain."

He pushed the other chair close to her and raised her leg onto it. As she adjusted her ice pack and tried to relax, he picked up the room phone and dialed the front desk.

"Front desk. How can we help you?"

"We need tweezers, a bowl, some type of antibiotic ointment, and a chair with wheels. Right away if you don't mind."

Without waiting for a response, he laid the phone back in the cradle. In the cramped bathroom he took one of the neatly folded washcloths from the rack above the toilet, ran it under warm water in the sink, and twisted it to wring out the excess. That done, there was nothing more to do until the room service arrived. He sat on the bed near her and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. She was leaned back in the chair with her eyes closed, and he took advantage of the opportunity to enjoy the sight of her.

"I am sorry this happened to you, Sookie," he said eventually.

She opened her eyes and turned her head slightly to look at him. "It wasn't your fault."

"No, but I am sorry all the same."

They spent the rest of the time in silence until a hotel employee arrived with the supplies, rolling them in on the chair. Eric tipped the young man and immediately set to work. He moved the small desk next to Sookie and set her right arm on it carefully, then turned on the overhead lamp.

He used the washcloth to clean the surface as much as possible without hurting her, picked up the tweezers, and leaned over her. Each tiny fragment landed into the empty bowl with a soft tinkling sound. She was biting her lower lip.

"If you were an ordinary girl, I could glamour you, and you wouldn't feel this." He looked up at her. "Be brave." The most useless words for anyone to say to Sookie Stackhouse, but there was little else to say that might comfort her. It had to hurt like hell.

She nodded, leaned back, and closed her eyes again. Even with her eyes shut, tears fell down her cheeks in a steady stream, and it took all his will not to lick them. Occasionally she would let out a soft gasp or a barely audible whimper, but she was quiet as he tended to her. He wanted to tell her that she had nothing to prove to him. Once or twice he leaned in closer to lick away the blood, which would also help the wounds heal faster.

They heard Bill inserting his key card, and then he walked in, wincing when he saw Sookie's face. Eric knew the feeling. After Bill checked on Eric's handiwork with her arm, he touched her cheek.

"How did this happen?" he asked. Eric was keen to know that himself.

While Eric carried on removing the glass from Sookie's arm, Bill pulled up a chair, and then Sookie began.

"Well, we got there and met the Newlins. And they wanted to give us a tour of the place. I tried all kinds of excuses to get us out of there, but they just kept herding us deeper inside. We ended up going down into that dungeon thing they have. I started feeling real claustrophobic, so I tried to run back up the stairs. But this guy, Gabe, grabbed my ankle. That's when I fell, and that's when most of this..." She paused and made a motion with her hand to indicate her body. "Happened. Well, they knew who we really were because Hugo was in on it. And he and I were stuck down there. Hugo explained to me why he did it and all that. Then Gabe came back." Her voice trailed off, and she stopped speaking altogether.

Eric finished his work on her arm and began spreading the ointment on it gently, feathering his fingers over her skin. He made a small prick in his finger with one of the shards of glass in the bowl, and spread that on her skin with the ointment. Neither she nor Bill noticed.

"Go on, Sookie," said Bill softly.

"He put Hugo in the cell with Farrell, and then he came for me." She swallowed. "He tried to rape me. I fought him off with a chair, but he had a stun gun and—He had his pants open... He ripped open my shirt... kept calling me a bitch..."

Again her voice failed her. Bill leaned in and lifted what remained of her shirt. Her bra was torn as well. "What happened to this Gabe?" Bill's voice was strained with the self-control he was trying to maintain.

"Well, he's dead. Godfrey killed him."

Eric raised his eyebrows and leaned forward. "You saw Godfrey?"

She nodded. "You were right, Bill. He was the one who kidnapped Farrell, though I didn't get any details. And Godfrey stopped Gabe from raping me." She raised her chin and smiled a little. "Though I got to say, I had gotten in a few good licks myself."

Eric grinned. He envied Godfrey the pleasure of killing that miserable fucker. The idea of Sookie being violated by such a... He clenched his fist but said nothing.

"Don't brag," Bill said, smiling himself. "So the man is dead."

"Godfrey was very good in stopping Gabe and helping me get out," said Sookie. "'Specially since he just wanted to think about meeting the dawn. Where is he?"

"He ran into the night during our attack on the Fellowship. None of us could catch him."

"What happened at the Fellowship?" she asked.

She was clearly past the point of telling her own story, and all that remained now was information that Eric essentially knew. He rose with the bowl, washcloth, ointment, and tweezers and went to set them on the counter by the sink.

"I'll tell you, Sookie," Bill said, "but let's say good night to Eric, and I will tell you while I bathe you."

"Okay. Good night, Eric. Thanks for the first aid."

So that was it, was it? He looked at Bill, expecting something more than this, but he was not to be satisfied. Bill looked determined. And Sookie had to be desperate for a bath. It was that thought only that pacified him, and he headed for the door.

"I think those are the main points," Bill said. "If there is more, I'll come to your room later."

Like hell. "Good," said Eric. He regarded Sookie again, hardly knowing what to say to her. He felt inexplicably drawn to her, even more than before. "Rest well, Sookie," he said at last.

"Oh!" she said suddenly. "You know, we owe the shapeshifters." She must have seen the looks on both of their faces because she went on. "Well, maybe not you guys, but I sure do."

Eric smiled. "Oh, they'll put in a claim. Those shapeshifters never perform any service for free." And he would happily pay that claim, since they had returned her to him alive and relatively well. "Good night, Sookie. I am glad you weren't raped and killed." He grinned at her broadly; he meant what he said, but he had said it mainly to cheer her up.

"Gee, thanks a lot. Night." She had leaned back and closed her eyes again, and Eric wondered if she ever would actually make it to the bathtub that night.

He used the rest of the night to go through emails and other business on his laptop, then surrendered to the approaching dawn.

* * *

Sookie looked much better the next night when he saw her again at Stan's nest. Her face was still badly bruised, and she was limping, but her color had returned. She was wearing a grayish-brown knit dress and no bra. His mouth went dry. One of the fangbangers had just left her alone on the couch, and he took advantage of the situation by sitting beside her.

No panties either, his nose confirmed. She would be embarrassed if she knew that any vampire passing within five feet of her would be aware of this. He forced himself to ignore the rising tide of lust.

"How are you?" he asked her, glancing at her arm.

"Better than I look," she hedged.

"You've seen Hugo and Isabel?" A stroke of genius on Stan's part, he had decided.

"Yes."

"Appropriate, don't you think?"

"In a way, yes," she admitted. "Assuming Stan sticks to his word."

Eric grinned. "You didn't say that to him, I hope." A small part of him wished that she had said that to Stan, and that he had been there to see it.

"No, I didn't. Not in so many words. You're all so damn proud."

She may not be able to read their minds, but she certainly knew them. "Yes," he said slowly, "I guess that's true."

"Did you just come to check up on me?"

"To Dallas?" he asked, unsure if she meant tonight or the entire trip. She nodded. "Yes." He gave a casual shrug, as if he would have done the same for anyone he sent. "We are loaning you out for the first time. I wanted to see that things went smoothly without being here in my official capacity." It was complete bullshit, and it didn't make total sense, but she accepted it.

"Do you think Stan knows who you are?" she asked.

"It's not far-fetched," he said after deciding on a neutral answer. "He would probably have done the same thing in my place."

"Do you think from now on, you could just let me stay at home, and leave me and Bill alone?"

The question was like a punch in the stomach, but he forced himself to smile. "No. You are too useful. Besides, I'm hoping that the more you see me, the more I'll grow on you." That was more truth than he had expected to spill out tonight.

"Like a fungus?" she asked, smiling back at him.

All he could think of was pulling her onto his lap, lifting that dress a little, and having her in the middle of the crowd. Instead he laughed.

"You look especially luscious in that knit dress with nothing underneath." Though he meant to be flirtacious, his thoughts became more serious. "If you left Bill and came to me of your own free will, he would accept that."

"But I'm not going to do any such thing."

He was about to suggest that she might change her mind one day, but she suddenly laid her fingers over his mouth. He would have licked them if she hadn't looked so serious. She was moving her head as if she were straining to hear something... which, of course, she was.

"Help me up." He did as she asked and stared at her, waiting for some hint as to what was going on. "Eric..." she murmured, then yelled to the whole house, "Hit the floor!"

He threw himself over her as various types of guns from outside the house rained bullets over them. Sookie had shut her eyes, but he felt invigorated. He had wanted to fight these bastards, and here was his chance. When he looked down at Sookie again, she had opened her eyes.

She looked terrified, so he grinned. "I knew I'd get on top of you somehow," he teased.

"Are you trying to make me mad so I'll forget how scared I am?" she asked shakily.

"No, I'm just opportunistic." She fought to free herself, but it wasn't quite safe to do that yet, so he breathed, "Oh, do that again. It felt great."

She lay very still as her eyes welled up. "Eric," she said slowly, "that girl I was just talking to is about three feet away from us with part of her head missing."

He lifted some of his weight from her body, though he continued to hold himself over her. There was a stinging pain in his shoulder, but he ignored it. "Sookie, I've been dead for a few hundred years. I am used to it. But she is not quite gone. There is a spark. Do you want me to bring her over?" She said nothing for a long time, and he sensed that the girl's life was gone for good. "She is gone," he murmured.

The house seemed very quiet when the shooting stopped and the tires peeled away, and then the screaming and sobbing crashed into the silence like shotgun blasts themselves.

Eric pretended to sigh as he raised himself off of Sookie. "No excuse to linger." Noticing his own blood seeping through the cloth of his once-pristine shirt, he added casually, "My shirts always get ruined when I am around you."

"Oh shit, Eric, you're bleeding. You got hit," she repeated, as if he didn't know it already himself. "Bill! Bill!"

He knew very well that Bill had left with others to kill the attackers. That only strengthened his resolve to get some of his blood in her. Bill wouldn't always be around, and she needed the extra protection. He told himself that his own desire for her was only a small fraction of the reason for what he was about to do.

He took off the bload-soaked shirt. "The bullet is right inside the wound, Sookie. Suck it out."

Her reaction was exactly what he expected: "What?"

"If you don't suck it out, it will heal inside my flesh," he lied. "If you are so squeamish, go get a knife and cut."

"But I can't do that," she said, partly to herself.

"I took this bullet for you," he growled. "You can get it out for me. You are no coward."

She seemed resigned, so she took his shirt and wiped the excess blood away, then pressed her mouth against the wound.

These were not the circumstances he would have chosen, but the sensation of her taking his blood was pure pleasure. He was unable to suppress a moan. She pulled away from him with the bullet between her teeth, and she turned aside to spit it - and most of his blood - on the floor. But he knew instantly that he was now part of her. She had swallowed some of his blood, just as he intended, and as his blood entered her body, he felt her spreading through his consciousness.

Fear, frustration, worry...

"This room reeks of blood," he heard his voice rasping.

She looked up at him as if she hadn't heard him. "Well, there. That was the grossest-"

At that moment he wanted her as he had never wanted anyone in his long life. The excitement of battle, the new sensation of her becoming a part of him, the lust he had felt for her since that first night in Fangtasia, the lust he felt for her tonight as she sat beside him with nothing but a scrap of cloth separating him from what he desired - they all demanded one response. "Your lips are bloody," he said, and his voice was still a whisper.

Without giving it much thought, he took her face in his hands and kissed her with all the passion he had to offer. His fangs had extended at some point without his notice - during the shooting, perhaps? - and he moaned again as he felt her tongue wrap around one of them. She was actually returning his kiss, and that aroused him even more.

But she did break off the kiss. He felt her desire as if it were his own... it was his own, and hers, too. But then her fear and worry began to take over again.

He licked his lips and tasted his own blood from her mouth. "Go look for Bill," he managed to say. He hardly recognized the sound of his own voice.

Before she left, he watched as she took the bullet, wrapped it in a torn piece of his shirt, and slipped it in her pocket.

Chapter Text

One of the first things he had to take care of when he returned to Shreveport was the maenad near Bon Temps. If she was like Phryne, she would want livestock and wine. Both were easy enough to obtain, and on a clear Thursday night, he found himself in a borrowed pickup truck in Renard Parish with Pam and Indira seated beside him and a cattle trailer hitched behind them.

"The animal smells," Pam observed when they pulled up on the side of the road.

Eric ignored her. "According to Bill, this is where he stopped the night Sookie got attacked. We need to get the bull into the woods and tie it. She will know it's from me."

He left the truck, unlatched the wide doors of the trailer, and threw them open. The bull regarded him with boredom, but obeyed at the slightest tug on the rope. It had been many years, but he remembered how to handle the animal. Pam stood to the side with a wrinkled nose.

"Where's Indira?" he asked.

"She's afraid to leave the truck." Pam chuckled. "I think you'll be taking care of this one alone."

"So it seems. You have the wine?" She held up the bottle, and he nodded. "Let's go."

The bull balked at the forest line, but Eric gave the rope a firm tug, and he grudgingly followed. Even more grudging than the bull was Pam, who quickly fell behind. Eric gave an occasional amused glance back at her as she picked her way through the branches and thorns. He could smell the maenad as they made their way deeper into the trees, and he stopped in a clearing where her scent was overpowering.

"Here."

"Thank God," Pam grumbled.

The fact that Pam stepped in some of the bull's droppings on the way back to the truck only made the evening's entertainment that much sweeter.

* * *

On Friday night, the mail included a note in dark ink that smelled like blood – the bull's, he assumed: "Try again, Sheriff." He spent that night and the next in his office, working out another offer to make to the maenad. A bigger bull? Two bulls? Wine of a different year? When Pam entered without knocking, he looked up with murder in his eyes, then just as quickly forgave when she held out the phone and mouthed, "Sookie."

"I am here," he said. He leaned back in his chair and tossed a pencil in the air.

"And I am here," she replied.

He grinned. "Sookie, my little bullet-sucker."

"Eric, my big bullshitter."

So Bill had told her that she didn't have to suck out that bullet. Her voice was hard, but there was also a fondness she couldn't disguise.

"You want something, my darling?" he asked pleasantly.

"I'm not your darling, and you know it, for one thing. For another..." Here her voice lost its certainty, and he sensed that she was coming to the reason for her call. "Bill said you were coming over here tomorrow night?"

Could it be that she wanted to see him? No, he decided. From her combative tone so far, it seemed evident that she hadn't given in to him yet. But she would, and he could be very patient.

"Yes," he said, smiling in spite of himself, "to tromp up in the woods looking for the maenad. She finds our offerings of vintage wine and a young bull inadequate."

There was a pause. "You took her a live bull?"

"Yes, indeed we did. Pam and Indira and I."

"Was it fun?" she asked.

She seemed to be making small-talk with him, something she had never done before. Such a little thing, but it delighted him. "Yes. It had been several centuries since I dealt with livestock. Pam is a city girl. Indira had too much awe of the bull to be a lot of help. But if you like, the next time I have to transport animals I will give you a call, and you can go along."

"Thanks," she replied. "That would be lovely." And then the small-talk was over. "The reason I called you is that I need you to go to a party with me tomorrow night."

He could have sworn that his dead heart leapt into his throat. "Bill is no longer your bedmate?" he asked carefully. "The differences you developed in Dallas are permanent?"

"What I should have said is, 'I need a bodyguard for tomorrow night.'" Business, not pleasure. "Bill's in Dallas. See, there's a long explanation, but the situation is that I need to go to a party tomorrow night that's really just a..." She broke off her ramble and began fumbling for words. "Well, it's a... kind of orgy thing? And I need someone with me just in case... just in case."

"That's fascinating. And since I'm going to be in the neighborhood, you thought I might do as an escort?" He smiled in spite of his disappointment. "To an orgy?"

"You can look almost human," she said, not quite answering his question.

"This is a human orgy? One that excludes vampires?" The plot continued to thicken.

"It's a human orgy that doesn't know a vampire is coming."

"So," he clarified, "the more human I look, the less frightening I'll be?" Would I be less frightening to you as well?

"Yes. I need to read their thoughts. Pick their brains. And if I get them thinking about a certain thing, and pick their brains, then we can get out of there."

Once again he tossed and caught the pencil. "So you want me to go to a human orgy, where I will not be welcome, and you want us to leave before I get to enjoy myself?"

"Yes, and..." She paused and continued in a weak voice, "Do you think you could pretend to be gay?"

He knew at that moment that whatever she had asked of him, he would have done. The thought was shocking, unsuitable... dangerous. The more he tried to tell himself that this woman was nothing to him, the more he realized that she was making him her own without even knowing it. Pam came back into the office, returning him to the present.

"What time do I need to be there?" he asked briskly.

"Um... nine-thirty? So I can brief you?"

"Nine-thirty at your house," he agreed.

Without another word to her, he handed the phone to Pam.

* * *

Since he was going to do this, he was determined not to do it halfway. And he would certainly have fun with it. When he arrived at Sookie's house, he was wearing the pink Lycra costume he had worn as a joke on Valentine's Day some years before. He had never thought he'd be wearing it again, least of all to an orgy. He checked his coat to make sure that it gave nothing away until the right moment.

She didn't answer his knock. He heard a male voice coming from somewhere inside the house, so he let himself in. Wasn't Bill supposed to be in Dallas? "Sookie?" he asked cautiously. There was no reply from her, so he sped towards the sound of the voice and stopped when he realized that it was Bill's own voice on the answering machine.

"...Velasquez send their regards, and Barry the bellhop. I haven't forgotten Friday night. I will never forget."

Sookie was sitting on her bed in a bathrobe, brushing out her long hair. Judging from her smile and the blush creeping into her cheeks, she wouldn't be forgetting Friday night any time soon, either. He felt her desire, and it evoked the same response in him.

"So what happened Friday night?" he asked.

She let out a startled cry, and the brush fell to the floor. She recovered quickly, jumping up and coming at him with her hands clenched. "You are old enough to know you don't come in someone's house without knocking on the door and having it answered!" she scolded. "Besides, when did I ever invite you inside?"

"When I stopped by last month to see Bill," he reminded her. "I did knock. You didn't answer, and I thought I heard voices, so I came in. I even called your name."

"You may have whispered my name, but you acted bad, and you know it!"

He knew no such thing, but he didn't want to argue with her – however appealing she looked with her color up and that fire in her eyes. He could feel that she wasn't angry, but frightened and embarrassed. "What are you wearing to the party?" he asked lightly. "If this is to be an orgy, what does a good girl like you wear?"

All the fight went out of her in an instant, and he could see as well as feel how much she was dreading this evening. "I just don't know," she replied. "I'm sure I'm supposed to look like the kind of girl who goes to orgies, but I've never been to one, and I have no idea how to start out, though I have a pretty clear idea of how I'm supposed to end up."

"I have been to orgies."

A smile teased one corner of her mouth in a particularly bewitching way, and she rolled her eyes. "Why does that not surprise me? What do you wear?"

"The last time I wore an animal hide, but this time I settled for this." He opened the coat, tossed it aside, and threw his shoulders back, fully enjoying the expression on her face when she took in his costume.

"Wow," she said at last. "Wow. That's some outfit."

"I don't believe I could be convincing as a queen, but I decided this sent such a mixed signal, almost anything was possible." He batted his eyelashes and waggled his eyebrows, thrilled by the fact that his usual lust for her was being reciprocated at the moment.

She was almost as pink as the Lycra as her eyes darted around the room nervously. "Oh, yes."

He glanced at her bathrobe again and realized that she wasn't dressed yet. "Shall I go through your drawers and find something for you to wear?" He pulled open the first drawer he saw, closing his eyes as the scent of her wafted up from the clothes inside.

"No, no!" she exclaimed. "I'll find something!"

He watched with genuine interest as she rummaged through the bureau, examining and rejecting several items.

"Maybe these," she muttered to herself as she withdrew a pair of denim shorts. She stepped inside her bathroom and emerged a few minutes later in shorts so tight they might as well have been Lycra. "What do you think?" she asked, turning for him.

What he thought was that he wanted to fuck her, but that was very unoriginal. "Like a caterpillar embraces a butterfly," he said approvingly.

"More like Daisy Dukes," she mused, once again at the bureau. He didn't know what that meant, so he said nothing.

When she had finished, she stood before him in the shorts and a skimpy white tank top that showed off a sexy blue bra underneath. She looked like what the local humans would call "trailer trash." She would fit right in, no doubt, with the company at tonight's "party."

He stepped up beside her in the mirror, and they looked at each other.

"Hey, our hair's the same color," she said.

"Sure is, girlfriend," he teased. "But are you blond all the way down?"

She raised an eyebrow. "Don't you wish you knew?"

"Yes." Sweet fuck, how he wished he knew.

"Well," she said archly, "you'll just have to wonder."

"I am." Wondering, he added in his thoughts. "Blond everywhere."

She glanced quickly at the low neck of his tank top. "I could tell as much from your chest hair," she said.

He lifted her arm, but it was completely smooth and hairless underneath. "You silly women," he sighed, "shaving your body hair." Legs and underarms weren't so bad, but other areas... why women imagined that men wanted to have sex with hairless little girls was beyond him.

"We need to go," she said abruptly.

He wandered over to her vanity and eyed the small, uniquely shaped bottles. "Aren't you going to wear perfume?" While she watched, he lifted each bottle, uncapped it, and smelled the perfume inside. There was one called "Obsession" which he didn't even bother smelling. "Oh, wear this!" He tossed her the bottle a split second after he realized that she wasn't paying attention, but her hand flew out and caught it. He stared at her in surprise. "You have had more vampire blood than I thought, Miss Sookie."

She ignored his remark and looked at the bottle. "Obsession. Oh, okay."

Lust clouded his vision as he watched her put the perfume between her breasts and behind her knees. He loved the skin behind a woman's knees. He loved breasts even more. He licked his lips.

"What is our agenda, Sookie?"

"What we're going to do," she explained, capping the perfume bottle, "is go to this stupid so-called sex party and do as little as possible in that line while I gather information from the minds of the people there."

"Pertaining to?"

"Pertaining to the murder of Lafayette Reynolds, the cook at Merlotte's Bar."

As Sookie refolded some of the items she had pulled from her bureau, Eric picked up his coat and laid it over his arm. "And why are we doing this?"

"Because I liked Lafayette. And to clear Andy Bellefleur of the suspicion that he murdered Lafayette."

The name Bellefleur snagged on something in his memory. "Bill knows you are trying to save a Bellefleur?" he asked carefully.

She looked up from the shirt she was folding. "Why do you ask that?"

"You know Bill hates the Bellefleurs."

He felt her answer before she spoke it. "No. No, I didn't know that at all." She closed all the bureau drawers and sat in a chair by the bed. He could actually hear the straining of the tight denim shorts. "Why?"

"You'll have to ask Bill that, Sookie," he said. He didn't know, and he didn't care. He examined her face and wondered... "And this is the only reason we're going? You're not cleverly using this as an excuse to make out with me?"

Once again he felt desire flaring inside her, but she said, "I'm not that clever, Eric."

He smiled. "I think you deceive yourself, Sookie."

She picked up a sweater, and they left the house in silence. She stopped on the porch steps. "Listen, Eric."

Turning, he watched her and waited for her to continue. He felt her fear more powerfully than anything he had felt from her so far. It crashed over him almost like a physical wave, and he wondered how a relatively small body like hers could contain it.

When she finally spoke again, her voice was soft. "Don't let anything happen to me, okay? I have no intention of getting intimate with any of those people. I guess I'm scared that something will happen, someone will go too far. Even for the sake of Lafayette's murder being avenged, I won't willingly have sex with any of those people."

"You trust me?" If she had at last placed her trust in him, this was an unusual situation to have done it, knowing as she did that he wanted her himself.

"Yes."

He felt her certainty and it made him happy. "That's... crazy, Sookie."

She shook her head. "I don't think so."

He pulled on his coat, and she did the same with her sweater, then he opened the car door for her. She had already buckled her seat belt when he climbed in. "Where are we going?" he asked.

He memorized the directions she gave him and stepped on the gas, smiling slightly when he saw that she was holding on to the door handle with white knuckles.

"Explain to me how this orgy figures in to the death of your friend," he said.

The more of her story she related, the more he became convinced that the maenad played a part in this. Perhaps the tribute she wanted was vengeance. They rounded a particularly sharp curve, and the tires squealed.

"Remember, I'm mortal," Sookie said, her knuckles even whiter than before.

"I think about that often." The fragility of her body, the wrinkles that would eventually characterize her face more and more with each passing year. Her death. A sense of calm and contentment crept over him in spite of these thoughts, and he realized that it came from Sookie. "You are happy," he observed.

"Yes, I am."

"You will be safe." If he thought it might have been welcomed, he would have reached over to take her hand. Her trust in him may be illogical, but it was well-placed. He would never let anything happen to her – tonight or any other night.

"Thanks. I know I will."

Their destination was a cabin at the end of a deeply rutted gravel drive. Eric pulled in beside several other cars and killed the engine. He looked over at Sookie, who was taking in long, calming breaths. When she was ready, she nodded, and they stepped out of the car and walked around the hood to face each other. Eric had removed his coat to display the Lycra outfit in all its glory, but Sookie shoved her hands in her sweater pockets and shivered.

He heard two male voices from inside. One remarked that he never thought he'd get to fuck Sookie Stackhouse, and since her companion seemed to be a fag, tonight might be the night. The other replied with an eloquent, "Fuck, yeah."

"I could be bisexual?" he asked, keeping his tone light. He couldn't tell if she heard the comments or not.

"Okay," she said with a shrug. Her gaze flickered to one of the cabin's open windows. "We're being watched."

"Then I'll act friendly," he said.

Determined to prove that he deserved her trust, he kissed her gently at first, not even touching her with his hands. It was she who stepped close, slid her arms around his neck, and offered her tongue by touching it to his lips. He rested his hands on her waist and pulled her even closer. She gave a soft moan of pleasure – genuine pleasure, because he felt it, and it only added to his – and his erection strained against the tight pink Lycra. She kissed his bottom lip one last time, then pulled back a little, keeping her eyes carefully on his.

"Ready to go in?" she asked.

"Not really, but I suppose we have to," he managed to say. He smiled. "At least I look in the mood." At least he had his coat draped over his arm; that would help slightly.

They crossed the deck, and Eric opened the creaky screen door as Sookie knocked.

"Who is it?" came a female voice.

"It's Sookie and a friend."

"Oh, goodie! Come on in!"

As the door opened, the smell from inside wafted out and assaulted his senses. Cheap alcohol, cheap sex, sweat. He leaned a little towards Sookie, hoping that her sweet scent would stay with him even a moment longer as they entered the cabin.

When all the guests saw him, their faces were priceless. Surprise turned into greater surprise when they realized he was a vampire, and then eyes glazed over and lips parted when their lust kicked in. Their eyes traveled up and down his body, though it didn't make him uncomfortable. He was quite used to being stared at in this way.

"Hey, Sookie, who's your friend?" the female, apparently the hostess of this pathetic gathering, asked.

"This is Eric. I hope you don't mind me bringing a friend?"

The hostess was staring at the bulge in his Lycra pants as she answered, "Oh, the more the merrier. Eric, what can I get you to drink?"

"Blood?"

"Yeah, I think I've got some O here. Sometimes we... pretend."

You're not the only one who can pretend, he thought, matching her disgusting leer with a smolder. "No need to pretend anymore," he said in a husky voice.

Sookie seemed willing to explore the room a little, so he followed the hostess to the refrigerator, giving a meaningful caress to a man's shoulder on his way there. He spoke absent-mindedly to the hostess while he kept his eye on Sookie. She seemed to have found a couple of friendly faces because she stayed with them and appeared to be talking to them. As if she sensed that Eric's attention was drifting, the hostess ran her fingers down his chest, and he responded with a seductive growl.

One of the men by Sookie was trying to unbutton her shorts, and Eric smoothly made his way towards her. He came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist to separate her from the other man, and she leaned into him, her relief flooding through him as if it were his own. Then she moved her body against him, and he moaned. Still held tightly against him, she turned and once again wrapped her arms around his neck. She was offering her lips for another kiss, and he was never one to turn down a good offer. He could tell she wasn't "with" him because she wasn't responding to his kiss the way she had outside. Her tongue met his only absently, and he felt no pleasure or desire coming from her. She was listening to the minds of the people around them. Suddenly, her body stiffened, and he felt her fear again. He broke off the kiss gently and moved his mouth next to her ear.

"Sookie... Sookie, relax. I have you."

The sudden pleasure of her fingers stroking the back of his neck was ruined by another person – the hostess, it seemed – trying to kiss him from behind. But he gave in to it, as good an actor as anyone here. As she tried to kiss him, she also began fondling Sookie.

Sookie was stiff and uncomfortable in his arms, but she gave no sign of wanting to be rescued quite yet, so he distracted the hostess by returning her awkward kisses.

After a few minutes of this, Sookie claimed his mouth again and whispered, "I have to get out." She was upset and desperate.

"Go along with me." He lifted her easily over his shoulder as if he were carrying a rug, then turned to the hostess. "We're going outside for a minute." He leaned forward and gave her the last kiss she would ever hope to enjoy from Eric Northman.

"Can I come, too?"

He winked at her and said smoothly, "Give us a minute. Sookie is still a little shy."

A hideous man said from between a woman's breasts, "Warm her up good. We all want to see our Sookie fired up."

Another time, he would have kicked the bastard's face in. Instead he winked and said, "She will be hot."

"Hot damn," came another male voice from behind him as he carried Sookie safely out.

Her sweater and his coat were still inside, and she shivered as he laid her down on the cold hood of his car. He rested some of his weight on her, hardly able to think about anything apart from the fact that he wanted her. Like that first night he had seen her at Fangtasia, she seemed separated from humanity in its grossness. She was fine and pure like fairy blood; she was warm and beautiful.

"That was..." She seemed to choke on the tears she was fighting not to shed. Her eyes were fixed on his, more earnest and honest than any eyes he'd ever seen. "You can call me a goody two-shoes if you want to, and I wouldn't blame you, after all this was my idea. But you know what I think? I think that's awful." It is. "Do men really like that? Do women, for that matter? Is it fun to have sex with someone you don't even like?"

Her feelings were a jumble of confusion, loneliness, and a craving for real affection. He could certainly help with that.

"Do you like me, Sookie?"

"Eric," she said softly, "remember why we're here?"

"They're watching." And I want you. I want you more than I have ever wanted anyone.

"Even if they are, remember?"

Through the haze of lust, he realized that fear was taking her over again, and that the fear was partly because of him. He took some of his weight off of her.

"Yes, I remember," he said.

"So we need to go."

"Do you have any evidence?" he asked. "Do you know what you wanted to find out?"

"I don't have any more evidence than I had before tonight," she admitted. "Not evidence you can hand out in court." She surprised him by putting her arms around him, and he ached with his desire for her. "But I know who did it," she continued. "It was Mike, Tom, and maybe Cleo."

Those names meant nothing to him. He didn't know any of them. What he did know was that Sookie was beneath him, her body soft and inviting, her blood telling him that she wanted to feel loved.

"This is interesting," he murmured absently. He wondered if she would accept love if it came from him. He teased her ear with his tongue, feeling hopeful when he realized that her heart was thumping faster. Once again her desire and pleasure fed his own.

"No,"she protested. "I just hate this. I don't like any part of this." She pushed against him and he paused in his attentions, though he did not move. "Eric, you listen to me. I've done everything for Lafayette and Andy Bellefleur I can, though it's precious little. He'll just have to go from here on the little snatches I caught. He's a cop. He can find court evidence. I'm not selfless enough to go any further with this."

Her mouth said one thing while her blood told him another. "Sookie." He stared down at her, willing her to recognize and accept what he knew she felt. "Yield to me."

"No... No."

"I will protect you from Bill," he assured her.

"You're the one that's gonna need protection!"

He was somewhat taken aback by her willingness to threaten him and wondered what Bill would think of this. "You think Bill is stronger than me?"

"I am not having this conversation." She bit down on her lower lip, then continued. "Eric, I appreciate your offering to help me, and I appreciate your willingness to come to an awful place like this."

He looked down at her seriously, touched by her gratitude, however unnecessary it was. "Believe me, Sookie," he told her, "this little gathering of trash is nothing... nothing compared to some of the places I have been."

"Okay, but it's awful to me. Now, I realize that I should've known this would... rouse your expectations, but you know I did not come out here tonight to have sex with anyone. Bill is my boyfriend."

Her declaration was followed by the least welcome voice in the world at that moment: that of the boyfriend in question.

"I am glad to hear it. This scene would make me wonder, otherwise."

Eric straightened back up to his full height, and Sookie jumped off the car with almost vampiric speed. It ate at him that she could forget him so quickly, going to embrace Bill as if her former companion – the one who had dressed in ridiculous pink Lycra, who had gotten her through this evening safely – meant nothing.

"Sookie, it's getting to where I just can't let you go anywhere alone," Bill said, taking her into his arms.

"I sure made a big mistake," she said in a soft voice, and Eric wanted to ask her what mistake she had made, exactly. She found her friend's killers. She was safe and unharmed. She had not betrayed her lover.

"You smell like Eric," Bill grumbled.

Eric fought a grin, but the impulse died quickly when he heard the snap of branches in the shrubbery, accompanied by the appearance of a man with a gun aimed at Bill.

Chapter Text

"Sookie, step away from the vampire," the man ordered. Eric could smell the alcohol on his breath.

"No," said Sookie, holding Bill closer.

The cabin's squeaky screen door protested being opened, and the party guests rushed outside to see what was going on. The man with the gun seemed unfazed by his larger audience. Eric could hear their whispers from the porch. "Never seen Bellefleur so drunk before." "What's gotten into Andy?"

"You smell like Eric," Bill told Sookie again, more angrily this time.

Was that really his chief concern at the moment?

Sookie apparently shared Eric's annoyance because she shot back furiously, "Yeah, uh-huh, and I can't even tell what you smell like! For all I know, you've been with six women! Hardly fair, is it?"

The expression on Bill's face was priceless, and Eric couldn't contain his laughter.

"Stand together in a group!" their drunk attacker demanded.

"Have you ever dealt with vampires, Bellefleur?" Eric asked casually. He had no intention of obeying, and this drunkard should be grateful if that was the sheriff's most impolite action of the evening.

"No, but I can shoot you dead. I have silver bullets." His slurred "thilver bulleth" made the statement sound even less threatening.

Bill wisely muffled a protest from Sookie, and Eric decided to humor Andy. For one thing, the bullets in that gun could hurt Sookie, and Andy had drunk himself beyond the point of rationality. For another, Sookie had placed herself among this filth for a reason, after all. The murderers were on that porch, and here was the policeman who had the ability and incentive to do something about it. He walked back over to the porch, indicating that Bill and Sookie should follow suit.

"Which one of you was it?" Andy shouted, stumbling towards them. "Or was it all of you?" He got no answer. "Sookie, come here!"

"No," said Bill.

"I have to have her right here beside me in thirty seconds, or I shoot her!" He aimed the gun – for the most part – on Sookie again.

Bill's voice was cold and firm. "You will not live thirty seconds after, if you do."

Try four seconds, Eric thought.

"I don't care. She's not much loss to the world."

Rage lit up inside Eric like a wildfire, and he clenched his fists. A second later, he realized that the anger he felt was also Sookie's. She wrenched free of Bill's protective grip and stalked out towards Andy. He tried to sense fear from her, but there was none. Only anger and resolve. He admired her for that.

"Now, Sookie," Andy said, "you read the minds of those people, and you tell me which one did it. He handled her like a rag doll, turning her around by the neck to face the pathetic assembly on the cabin porch.

"What the hell do you think I was doing here, you stupid shit?" she lashed out. "Do you think this is the way I like to spend my time, with assholes like these?"

Eric smiled and wished that she were once again lying beneath him on the hood of his car. He wanted to kiss that beautiful, defiant mouth for all he was worth. The drunkard did not feel the same, evidently, because he shook her impatiently.

Suddenly the breeze carried with it a new scent, one that was both a threat and a relief. He knew that Bill had caught it, too, because the younger vampire had tensed... though that could be because of the armed drunk treating his girlfriend like shit. Eric inched closer to the young couple who had looked like friends of Sookie when they were inside. The woman was wearing nothing but red underwear.

"Has a strange woman been seen around here?" he asked under his breath.

Before one of them could answer, a dog howled, and Eric turned to see a collie emerging from the woods. It was a shifter.

"That's my collie," Sookie said. "Dean, remember?"

"Yeah," said Andy. "What's your dog doing out here?"

"I don't know. Don't shoot him, okay?"

"I'd never shoot a dog," Andy protested.

Sookie rolled her eyes. "Oh, but me, it's okay."

The dog went to Sookie's side, but more importantly, the scent of the maenad was becoming stronger and stronger.

"Back up, dog," growled Andy.

Sookie's emotions were a jumble, but one thing was clear. She was planning out a brave but stupid maneuver. "Tell her to stop whatever she's doing," Eric whispered to Bill.

"No, sweetheart," Bill called out to Sookie.

And there was the creature herself. The maenad was coming up from the words towards them. She was naked and wild, clearly capable of ripping apart a bull with her bare hands, and she carried her thyrsis. "Oh, who is being held like a little cub?" she asked. "It is my messenger!" She circled Andy and Sookie. "Hello, messenger. I forgot to introduce myself last time, my canine friend reminds me. I am Callisto."

Eric touched Bill's arm and nodded away from the porch full of nude and semi-nude humans. Very subtly, they inched away. People were about to die, that much was clear.

"Miss Callisto." Even tonight, in front of a naked, mythical being, Sookie Stackhouse never checked her manners at the door.

"Who is this stalwart brave gripping you?" the maenad asked.

"This is Andy Bellefleur. He has a problem."

She addressed Andy next. "You have never seen anything like me, have you?"

"No," said the drunk policeman.

"Am I beautiful?"

"Yes."

"Do I deserve tribute?"

"Yes."

Whether deserved or not, she would be taking tribute tonight. And it wouldn't be wine and a bull. By now he and Bill had achieved a fairly safe distance from the humans on the porch, who were still staring at the maenad in amazement and confusion.

"I love drunkenness," she said, still talking to Andy. "And you are very drunk. I love pleasures of the flesh, and these people are full of lust. This is my kind of place."

"Oh, good, but one of these people is a murderer, and I need to know which."

"Not just one," Sookie said quietly. The maenad returned her attention to Sookie and feathered her fingers down the side of Sookie's face.

"You are not drunk."

"No, ma'am," Sookie replied. Eric smiled. She would probably call the devil himself "sir."

"And you have not had the pleasures of the flesh this evening," the maenad said.

"No thanks to you," Bill muttered to his side, and Eric smiled again.

"Oh," Sookie replied, "just give me time."

The maenad laughed, which was fortunate, because Eric was laughing too. Bill glared at him, but he couldn't care less. As the maenad laughed, Andy released Sookie, whose legs gave way. She sank to the grass by the dog, while the maenad flirted with Andy.

One of the men from the porch called out to her, "Come on up here, new girl. Let's have a look at you." The fool.

The maenad ignored him. "Now," she said to Andy softly, "what did you want to know?"

"One of those people killed a man named Lafayette, and I want to know which one."

"Of course you do, my darling. Shall I find out for you?"

Eric and Bill, as if with one mind, inched away still more from the group of humans.

"Please," said Andy.

The maenad smiled at him. "All right."

"Don't meet her eyes," Eric muttered to Bill.

Any vampire who fell under a maenad's spell would be seized with an uncontrollable hunger and bloodlust. If she managed to charm either Bill or himself, every human here would be torn limb from limb and drained dry within a matter of minutes – including Sookie. He focused his mind on her, which was easy when he was keeping his eyes fixed on the hood of his car.

The maenad was speaking to one of the party-goers, but he thought only of Sookie, who appeared in his peripheral vision as she crawled towards Bill. Callisto was moving closer to the porch, and she stopped next to him. Knowing better than to disrespect a maenad, he turned towards her. But he kept his eyes locked on her breasts instead of her face. If he couldn't meet her eyes, he had to pick something that would be equally mesmerizing. He was suddenly very aware that he wore pink Lycra from head to toe.

"Lovely, just lovely," she said in a rich, seductive voice. "But not for me, you beautiful piece of dead meat."

Much to his relief, she moved away and continued on her way to the porch, where she proceeded to speak to the humans. Eric blocked out her voice and watched Sookie instead. He could not let the maenad drive him into a frenzy, not with her here. He knew full well that if he gave in to it, Sookie would be the first one, not the last one, to die at his hands. He would rape her until she bled to death; he would lap up every drop of her blood until she was nothing but a white, limp corpse. The thought disgusted him, but it protected her.

"I love the violence of sex," Callisto breathed huskily from the porch. "I love the reek of drink. I can run from miles away to be there for the end."

Suddenly, a great tide of fear swept over him, flooding every cell in his body like an overflowing bayou in a hurricane. It wasn't his fear. Bill was holding on to Sookie with all his strength, and Eric rushed to help restrain her. No, Sookie, he pled with her. He smelled her blood and realized that she had bitten her tongue. Not helping. He shielded himself to some degree from the terror that consumed her, and he tried to send calmness to her. But their bond was weak at best, not strong enough for a human, even one as gifted as Sookie, to receive anything from him. As Callisto continued to confront the humans on the porch, Sookie became more and more consumed. She was shaking now, and some of the blood from her tongue had seeped from the corner of her mouth.

Then a moment of quiet. Eric met Bill's eyes and nodded, confirming what they both knew was about to happen. They tightened their grip on each other's arms and held Sookie securely. The maenad's spell descended on the humans, and as their minds raged and thrashed with madness, so did Sookie's. If only the damned creature would end this before she killed Sookie along with the murderers. He gritted his teeth, fighting the spell from overtaking him as well.

Sookie opened her mouth to scream, but Eric stopped her with a quick hand. Then she bit him. Not. Helping. He closed his eyes and felt a drop or two of his blood become part of her body. It amounted only to a thin thread being woven into the bond that connected them, but it was enough to send even more of the madness that was crashing against the shield he was trying to maintain.

The humans on the porch screamed, and then Callisto exacted her violent and bloody brand of justice. The scent of blood exploded into the air and hung there like a macabre, invisible cloud; Sookie fell weakly against their arms, no longer fighting. Bill lifted her up and carried her to the car, where he laid her down on the hood. The maenad was approaching them, so Eric and Bill stepped back warily.

But Callisto wasn't interested in them. She spoke to Sookie. "You were close. You were very close. Maybe as close as you'll ever come, maybe not. I've never seen anyone maddened by the insanity of others. An entertaining thought."

Take that to a third degree – a vampire in danger of becoming maddened by the insanity of others, through a tenuous blood bond with a human telepath – and it became even more "entertaining."

"Entertaining for you, maybe," said Sookie.

The maenad ignored Sookie's remark and made her goodbyes to the shifter instead. So this dog was Sam Merlotte. Very... entertaining.

As Callisto made her exit, Eric and Bill walked to the blood-soaked porch, where body parts were strewn about, their owners no longer distinguishable from one another.

"Jesus Christ," Bill whispered.

Eric began picking up body parts and throwing them onto a makeshift pile. "We'll have to burn the cabin. I wish Callisto had taken care of her own mess."

"She never has that I have heard. It is the madness. What does true madness care about discovery?"

"Oh, I don't know," he replied as he lifted what seemed to be a torso. He was in no mood for Bill's philosophical bent to rear its ugly head. He added the limbless trunk to the pile. "I have seen a few people who were definitely mad and quite crafty with it." A few fairies came to mind. Hazel the witch came to mind.

"That's true."

Eric sincerely hoped that Sookie wasn't looking at this. He hadn't seen many things in his long life that he would call disturbing, but the carnage on this porch fit the bill.

"Shouldn't we leave a couple of them on the porch?" Bill asked.

Eric smiled slightly and motioned to the complete disarray. "How can you tell?"

"That's true, too. It's a rare night I can agree with you this much." Bill gave him a significant look, then nodded his head in the direction of Sookie on the hood of the car.

Eric took his meaning. "She called me and asked me to help."

"Then all right. But you remember our agreement."

"How can I forget?" If he had forgotten his desire to protect Sookie, why on earth would he be at a small-town orgy dressed in pink Lycra?

"You know Sookie can hear us," Bill pointed out.

You're the one who brought it up. "Quite all right with me." He laughed and shook his head as he strode across the porch one last time. Then he saw Sookie's friend, the one in red underwear. "Whoops, here's a live one!"

The shifter, now in his human form, called to the frightened woman, and she ran towards him and Sookie. She threw herself into Sookie's arms – not that Eric could blame her for that impulse – and wept. Eric turned back to the human wreckage on the porch.

"Did she ask you to seduce her as well?" Bill asked, using the toe of his boot to nudge an arm closer to the pile.

"We were at an orgy. Certain things are expected."

The shifter jogged up to the cabin, naked, and went inside. A moment later he emerged with a blanket, which he carried back to the two women.

"How are Eggs and Andy?" Eric heard Sookie ask.

Her friend Tara gave a mad little laugh. "Sounds like a radio show."

"They're still standing where she left them. Still staring," said the shifter.

Tara seemed to find this funny as well, because she began to sing the words. Eric laughed, undeterred by Bill's disapproving glare, and they rejoined the humans.

Bill placed a hand on Tara's arm. "What car did you come in?"

"Ooooh," she cooed, "a vampire. You're Sookie's honey, aren't you? Why were you at the game the other night with a dog like Portia Bellefleur?"

Eric smiled. "She's kind, too." He would have thought that Sookie could pick better friends. Of course, Bon Temps didn't seem to have a great selection.

Bill tried again. "What car did you come in? If there is a sensible side to you, I want to see it now."

"I came in the white Camaro. I'll drive it home. Or maybe I better not. Sam?"

"Sure, I'll drive you home," the shifter said with a nod. He didn't seem at all embarrassed by the fact that he was naked. "Bill, you need my help here?"

"I think Eric and I can cope. Can you take the skinny one?"

"Eggs? I'll see."

The shifter walked over to the first man the maenad had summoned from the porch, and Eric followed. "Eggs" was standing there in a kind of trance, mercifully for him.

"Can you lift him?" Eric asked. Sam was built solidly, but he wasn't a tall man. His attempt to heave up Eggs' dead weight was unsuccessful. "I'll do it." Eric lifted Eggs over his shoulder, as he had carried Sookie from the orgy earlier that evening, and carried him to Tara's Camaro. Tara stared at Eggs with an unreadable expression... was it worry? "He will not remember any of this," Eric assured her.

She swallowed and looked away. "I wish I could say the same. I wish I'd never seen that thing, whatever she is. I wish I'd never come here, to start with. I hated doing this. I just thought Eggs was worth it. He's not. No one is."

Perhaps she wasn't such a bad friend for Sookie after all, though her rambling was tiresome. "I can remove your memory, too," Eric told her.

"No, I need to remember some of this, and it's worth carrying the burden of the rest. But they're all dead, all but me and Eggs and Andy. Aren't you afraid we'll talk? Are you gonna come after us?"

This was all too true. He looked across the car at Bill, then back to Tara. "Look, Tara..." When she met his eyes, he glamoured away every memory of the night. His moral compass didn't always point due north – if he even had a moral compass – but taking away memories was something he rarely did; it seemed almost like stealing away a portion of a person's life. But there could be no good reason for a human woman to remember what had taken place there that night, and the risk of her telling someone, even years later, was too great to ignore.

Bill set about the task of making a fire, while Eric returned to the porch to double-check that nothing was out of place. Nothing apart from the bones, tissue, and blood, anyway. He also stepped into the cabin to check coat pockets for car keys, retrieving his coat and Sookie's sweater while he was at it. He went back out into the yard towards Sookie, who was standing beside Andy.

"Why does Bill hate the Bellefleurs so much?" she asked absently as he draped her sweater around her shoulders.

"Oh, that's an old story, back from before Bill had even changed over." He threw his coat into his car and went back to the cabin to help Bill with the fire. "Sookie's asking about the Bellefleurs," he said. Bill's jaw tensed, but he said nothing. "Should I set another fire around in front? The faster this burns, the better."

A car pulled down the gravel drive, and they returned to the front of the cabin, leaving their small fire to fend for itself. It seemed to be catching on nicely unaided. The driver, a woman, parked and sat staring at the gruesome tableau through her windshield.

"We can't start the fire from more than one place," Bill told him, continuing their conversation, "or they may be able to tell it wasn't natural. I hate these strides in police science."

Eric rolled his eyes impatiently. "If we hadn't decided to go public, they'd have to blame it on one of them." He motioned to the pile of bodies. "But as it is, we are such attractive scapegoats. It's galling when you think of how much stronger we are."

"Hey, guys," Sookie called, waving her hand at them. "I'm not a Martian, I'm a human, and I can hear you just fine."

The woman in the car picked that moment to leave her vehicle, and she ran over to Andy, who was still standing dumbly in the yard. "What have you done to Andy?" she asked. "You damn vampires."

Eric raised an eyebrow. Another Bellefleur? Perhaps the "dog" mentioned earlier by the eloquent Tara?

"They saved his life," Sookie said.

This was boring. Eric rattled the sets of recovered keys in his pockets and strode over to the cars parked along the drive. He heard Bill, Sookie, and Andy talking about the events of the evening, but he listened with only half an ear. The cars contained nothing interesting. Fast food cups, beer cans, tapes and CDs, a dry cleaning bag. The last car was a Lincoln, and when he opened the trunk, he immediately smelled blood.

"But I haven't got any proof," Andy was saying morosely.

"Oh, I think so," Eric called to them. They joined him and stared down at the bloody clothes and wallet before them. Eric took the wallet and searched inside for a name.

Andy peered over his arm. "Can you read whose it is?"

The driver's license was a little faded, but the name was clear. "Lafayette Reynold."

He had to speed all the way back to Shreveport, racing the sun, though he watched carefully for police cars. They wouldn't be very forgiving of a vampire clad in pink Lycra.

Chapter Text

Eric didn't hear from Bill or Sookie again until the night Pam burst into his office in a very uncharacteristic way and blurted, "Bill has gone back to Lorena!"

He looked up from the supply list he was editing on his laptop. "What?" he managed to say.

Pam sat on the edge of his desk and grinned with what he could only describe as glee. "Lorena summoned Bill to Jackson, and he's given himself back over to her. He said he's coming home tomorrow night to make arrangements" - she drew out the word and savored it - "for Sookie. He wants to have everything nice and tidy before he sees her again. I suppose he wants to soften the blow when he tells her."

By this time the laptop had been shut and pushed away, and Eric stood with his back to Pam, his arms crossed. "Shit," he muttered.

"He said he would call tomorrow night to let us know he had arrived, and then the night after that he's coming to see you. I suppose you're involved with the arrangements." She shook her head and laughed. "At least now she'll be free for the taking."

Eric made a sudden turn and glared at her, inches from her face. "Take more care with what you say."

She had the grace to look abashed. "Sorry."

* * *

Bill did not call the following night, and the night after that brought only more silence. As Bubba sat in his office absently untwisting and retwisting paperclips, Eric called his human contacts at the mansion of Mississippi's King, Russell Edgington. They confirmed what he already knew: Bill was missing, and Sookie was in danger.

"Bubba," he said grimly as he hung up the phone. Bubba was an idiot, but at least he was loyal and strong – rather like a large dog.

"Yes, sir?"

"Get your ass down to Bon Temps and guard Sookie with your life until one of us can get there. I don't care if she argues. Understand?" Bubba nodded. "On your way out, tell Pam to come in here."

He slumped into his chair. Pam entered and sat quietly, apparently able to sense his mood. He met her eyes.

"Here's what we know," he began. "Bill was summoned to Jackson by Lorena, and she learned of a project he's working on."

"Is this the one he's working on for Sophie-Anne, the one he can't tell you about?"

"Perhaps. I don't know. I don't think she even knows he's missing, and I want to keep it that way. For all our sakes."

"And how does Sookie fit into this?" Pam asked. Their question-and-answer method of working through problems had served them well in the past, and Pam eased into her role as smoothly as ever.

"I can only surmise that she knows of the project as well. I'm going to make some calls and throw some money around."

"One of your many talents," Pam remarked with a slight smile.

"Go to Sookie and tell her what we know." Before she reached the door, he added, "Say nothing about Lorena."

He didn't see how they had any hope of finding Bill without Sookie, not only because of her gift, but because she probably had some knowledge about the project that started all this trouble. If she knew about Lorena, she would almost certainly refuse to help them – and he could hardly blame her. To his surprise, he found that he also recoiled at the thought of hurting her, which the truth about Lorena would surely do.

Chow supervised the bar for the rest of the night as Eric spent hours on the phone, threatening and bribing. In the midst of these calls came one from Pam's cell phone.

"She is safe?" he asked, not bothering with the niceties.

"Yes. But Bubba did have to save her from an attacker at the bar."

"Already? Fuck. Does she know anything about what's going on?"

"Nothing. She thought Bill was in Seattle."

Eric clenched and unclenched his fists. "Where is she now?"

"She's sitting here. She's not speaking."

"Let me talk to her." There was silence, and then he heard the soft pulse of blood in her neck. "Sookie, are you listening?" he asked. He got no response. "I can tell you are. Listen and obey me. For now, tell no one what's happened. Act just as normal. Live your life as you always do. One of us will be watching you all the time, whether you think so or not. Even in the day, we'll find some way to guard you." He paused and added in a gentler tone, "We will avenge Bill, and we will protect you."

"I didn't know he was supposed to be coming in last night," she said at the end of this speech, and her voice sounded very small.

At that moment he wished to find Bill only so he could have the pleasure of killing him. Bill had said nothing, then, to his lover. No "My maker is calling me, and I must obey." Nothing. He tried to think of something to say, some comfort he could offer, but Pam spoke first.

"He had… bad news he was going to tell you."

Eric heard the catch in Sookie's breath, a quiet sound that spoke volumes.

"Tell Pam to shut up," he growled.

Sookie did not relay the message - not that it was necessary. "So you knew this bad news and you knew he was coming back," she murmured.

Before he could answer her, he heard her disappear, and Pam was back.

"Forgive me, Master," Pam said. "I didn't—"

"Just get back here. There is much to do."

He had to go to Jackson; that much was clear. And he needed Sookie there if at all possible. After drumming his fingers for a few seconds, he picked up the phone and dialed Alcide Herveaux. Alcide agreed to accompany Sookie to Jackson and watch over her in exchange for the cancelation of his father's debt. Having taken care of that, Eric stayed on the phone with various Mississippi contacts until dawn interrupted him.

* * *

Sookie's house was dark and quiet when he knocked on her door the following night. There was no answer, and the door was locked. He levitated and flew to the windows, searching for a glimpse of her. He almost passed one set of windows before he realized that he was looking into her bedroom, and that she lay curled up on top of the disarrayed blankets in a long nightgown. Without a sound, he eased up the window, slipped inside, and shut it behind him.

Her bedroom smelled delicious, just as it had the last time he was there, a mixture of clean linen and perfumes and her. Sookie was on her side with her knees drawn up, almost in a fetal position. Her face was stained with dried tears, and her long hair was strewn over the pillows in messy tangles. Even though she slept, he was near enough for her blood to tell him that she was in a very fragile state. She was frightened and lonely. Her body ached for another beside her.

After ridding himself of his t-shirt, he slipped onto the bed behind her. He feathered his fingertips down her upper arm, then wrapped his arm around her waist, holding her close. Though her hair didn't offer its usual fresh scent, it still smelled of her, and he buried his nose into it until he touched the nape of her neck. Her skin was so warm and soft as he trailed his nose and lips over to her shoulder. He closed his eyes and absorbed the rush of pleasure at being close to her in this way, holding her in her own bed. Minutes or hours could have passed; he lost all track. Had Lorena been his maker, he would have staked her without a thought and returned to this bed, to the side of this woman.

Sookie stirred and seemed to reach some level of consciousness when she realized that she was no longer alone. She turned onto her back and wrapped her arms around him to pull him closer. He had found bliss, he realized, after centuries of thinking of it as one thing or another. He slid a hand up her leg, dragging her gown along with it, and he felt her warm, damp breath on his chest as she snuggled into him. Her own pleasure fed his as her pulse quickened, and he pressed his body to hers. As he lowered his head to taste her lips, he realized that her hand was wandering to the fly of his jeans. Perhaps he had not led an entirely corrupt life because the gods seemed to be heaping rewards on him tonight.

And then Sookie came to full consciousness, blotting out the mirage of happiness with a rough shove and a gasp of shock and displeasure.

"It's me," he assured her in a calm voice.

"Eric, what are you doing here?" she said angrily.

Had it not been obvious? "Snuggling," he said.

"You son of a bitch!" she snapped. "I thought you were Bill! I thought he was back!"

It was a slap in the face, and many defenses and retorts jumped to his tongue. But he bit them back and said, "Sookie, you need a shower."

She had not expected that. "What?"

"Your hair is dirty, and your breath could knock down a horse." It wasn't really true, but it would get her into the shower, where she could get ready to see Pam and Chow, who were already on their way.

She turned up her nose. "Not that I care what you think."

"Go get cleaned up," he said, more firmly this time.

"Why?"

"Because we have to talk, and I'm pretty sure you don't want to have a long conversation in bed." He smiled and leaned closely over her body again, knowing that his desire would make itself evident. "Not that I have any objection to being in bed with you, but I'd enjoy it more if I were with the hygienic Sookie I've come to know."

It took her only a split-second to leap from his arms. She opened each of her bureau drawers, grabbed up whatever lay on top, and then hurried away to the bathroom. Eric couldn't help smiling and shaking his head as the sound of the running water followed her exit. He took a moment to imagine her standing under the shower's stream with steam rising around her. He could almost see and taste the rivulets of water that slid down her skin and formed in droplets on the tip of her nose, the ends of her hair, her earlobes, her nipples… These thoughts were not helpful in his current state of mind.

He got up from the bed and fixed it neatly, tucking in the sheets and blankets and fluffing the pillows. He could hear that Pam and Chow had arrived, but he let them wait. As the sound of Sookie's dryer blasted in from the bathroom, he put his t-shirt back on, then stood staring out one of the windows. There was a sudden loud noise from the bathroom, and then a pained scream: "You bastard!"

He could only hope that she meant Bill.

A few minutes of uneasy silence followed before she emerged. She looked perfectly calm, as if nothing had happened. The sight of her made him happy, from her fresh makeup to her shiny, clean hair to the ridiculous reindeer sweater. He didn't miss her satisfied appraisal of himself, either.

"Can Pam and Chow come in?"

She said nothing, but she turned and started for her front door.

Once she invited them in, Pam and Chow walked over the threshold and took the liberty of exploring the downstairs portion of the house. Sookie didn't seem to mind. Eric grew impatient and gave Pam a significant look, and they followed him to Sookie's kitchen table. She heated up bottles of TrueBlood for them while Chow leered at her and spoke to Pam in Japanese about "our little pet." Eric ignored them. He would have to hurt Sookie in a few minutes, and he was not looking forward to it.

She set a bottle of blood in front of each of them. Eric drank out of courtesy; he wasn't hungry, and he certainly didn't want this garbage when the feast sat beside him.

"Have you found out anything else about Bill?" She looked as though she couldn't decide if she wanted to know the answer or not.

"A little," he told her. "I know Bill's been kidnapped."

Her emotions were such a confusing jumble, he couldn't pick out any individual ones. "Who by?"

It was Chow who answered her. "We aren't sure. The witnesses are not agreeing."

That was putting it mildly. Several of them completely contradicted each other.

From the mixture of her emotions, anger flared up and made itself perfectly clear. "Let me at them. If they're human, I'll find out."

Eric successfully fought a smile, but he couldn't keep the admiration from his voice. "If they were under our dominion, that would be the logical thing to do. But, unfortunately, they're not." They were under Edgington's, and if he had a part in this as well, they had no hope of cooperation from him.

"Please explain," she said shortly.

"These humans owe allegiance to the king of Mississippi."

Bill had clearly told Sookie very little about his world. She seemed surprised to learn that there even was a king of their neighboring state. Eric wondered if she knew about Sophie-Anne, here in her very own state. Was Bill trying to protect her, or was he keeping her in the dark for some reason of his own?

"Excuse me, but I could have sworn you said… the king?" The corners of her mouth quirked up. "Of Mississippi?" He nodded in reply and watched the amusement play across her face. She would soon come to see that it was no laughing matter. "For real?" Again he nodded, echoed by a bored-looking Pam and Chow. "Are you the king of Louisiana?" As she spoke the words, laughter burst out of her.

It was not the laughter of true amusement, but of tension and release. She needed it, and he let her laugh, telling her what she already knew: "Oh, no. I am the sheriff of Area 5."

She doubled over in hysterical laughter until her eyes watered and tears poured down her cheeks. Chow licked his lips, and Pam stared at Sookie as if she were a carnival sideshow. Sookie left the table and prepared a drink for herself in the microwave. When she rejoined them, she seemed to have calmed.

"You never told me all this before," she said. No, Bill never told you all this before. "You all have divided up America into kingdoms, is that right?"

Eric ignored the "Is she really that ignorant?" expressions being directed his way by his partners, and he focused on Sookie. "Yes, it has been so since vampires came to America." There was some scholarly debate about whether there had been Native American vampires, but most agreed that vampirism originated in Eurasia after the migration of those peoples to the New World. "Of course," he continued, "over the years the system's changed with the population. There were far fewer vampires in American for the first two hundred years, because the trip over was so perilous." And because they didn't care to be around the religious extremism of the Puritans; they had seen what happened to the witches. "It was hard to work out the length of the voyage with the available blood supply. And the Louisiana Purchase made a great difference." His home had been transformed from a French colony into part of the United States, accompanied by a rather violent upheaval in their world.

"And the kingdoms are divided into…?" Sookie asked.

"Areas," he explained patiently. "Used to be called fiefdoms, until we decided that was too behind the times. A sheriff controls each area. As you know, we live in Area 5 of the kingdom of Louisiana. Stan, whom you visited in Dallas, is sheriff of Area 6 in the kingdom of…" He stopped and reminded himself to keep this explanation grounded in her worldview. "In Texas."

She sat quietly for a few minutes, and he could see that she wasn't well – in any sense of the word. She was tired and afraid, hurt and angry, confused and lonely. If they had a true bond, he could offer her comfort, but he had nothing to do now but sit and observe.

"So," she said, pulling herself together, "Bill was kidnapped in daylight, I take it?" Eric nodded, as did Pam and Chow. "This kidnapping was witnessed by some humans who live in the kingdom of Mississippi, and they're under the control of a vampire king?"

"Russell Edgington," Eric specified. "Yes, they live in his kingdom, but a few of them will give me information. For a price." An exorbitant price.

"This king won't let you question them?" Sookie asked, furrowing her brow.

"We haven't asked him yet. It could be Bill was taken on his orders."

"How can I get to them?" she asked. "Assuming I decide I want to."

He was proud of her, and he hoped it wasn't too evident on his face. "We've thought of a way you may be able to gather information from humans in the area where Bill disappeared. Not just people I have bribed to let me know what's happening there, but all the people that associated with Russell." He paused briefly. "It's risky. I had to tell you what I have, to make it work. And you may be unwilling. Someone's already tried to get you once. Apparently, whoever has Bill must not have much information about you yet. But soon, Bill will talk. If you're anywhere around when he breaks, they'll have you."

Accepting this with perfect composure, she replied, "They won't really need me then, if he's already broken."

Pam gave him a quick, cautious glance. "That's not necessarily true," she told Sookie.

"Give me the whole story," Sookie said, a note of resignation in her voice.

She left the table to fetch another bottle of blood for Chow. Eric had barely touched his own. He sipped from it as Pam rattled off the long story they had pieced together from his hours of phone calls the previous night. The story was flimsy at best, but Pam managed to make it sound reasonable. To her credit, Sookie questioned the idea that someone could fool the security at Anubis. Pam explained their theory, which was probably bullshit, and told Sookie about the "accidental" fire. Finally, Sookie reached the critical question – the question that had brought them here.

"So, why would anyone want to snatch Bill?"

He studied her closely, looking for some sign that she knew. She only met his eyes evenly and waited for an answer.

"Bill's been working on a little special project. Do you know anything about that?"

"What project?" she asked.

He cast warning looks to Pam and Chow to say nothing, and they gave their silent assent. He turned back to Sookie and spoke slowly. "That is a little hard to believe, Sookie." In fact, knowing what he'd learned tonight about her ignorance of their world, it was quite easy to believe. But he had to push her. This was too important.

On the defensive, she shot back in anger, "How come? When do any of you exactly spill your emotional guts to a human? And Bill is definitely one of you."

After another warning look at his partners, he asked, "You think we'll believe that Bill didn't tell you what he was working on?"

"Yes, I think so." She dropped her gaze, but he saw hurt instead of dishonesty. "Because he didn't."

One more try. Swallowing all his affection for her, he pinned her with the hardest expression he could muster. "Here's what I'm going to do. I can't tell if you're lying or not, which is remarkable. For your sake, I hope you are telling the truth. I could torture you until you told me the truth, or until I was sure you had been telling me the truth from the beginning." He paused and let this sink in. She looked suitably frightened. "But that might damage you too badly for the other part of my plan. And really, it doesn't make that much difference if you know what Bill has been doing behind our backs or not."

To his surprise, her fear shifted into shock and anger. That was unexpected. She evidently did know something.

"That got a reaction," said Pam, as if Sookie couldn't hear them.

Eric frowned and searched Sookie's face. "But not the one I expected…"

Perhaps she had seen the project, or perhaps she had guessed what her lover was working on. What she didn't seem to understand was the implication, the fact that it was secret.

"I'm not too happy about the torture option," she said, and her voice began to fail. "And I miss Bill." With those words, her composure was lost, and she began to cry. "I do expect you to tell me why he lied about this trip, if you know," she told them through her tears. "Pam mentioned bad news."

Back to Pam's big mouth the night before. He glared at her. If this knowledge kept Sookie from helping them, he would see to it that Pam paid for it dearly.

"She's leaking again," Pam said uneasily. Then conviction set in her face. "I think before she goes to Mississippi, she should know the truth. Besides, if she has been keeping secrets for Bill, this will…"

Now that made sense. If Sookie knew the truth, perhaps she would want to tell them everything she knew if she thought it might get him in trouble. Her desire for revenge might be just as valuable as her desire to save him would have been. Then again, Sookie had never struck him as that kind of creature. Perhaps she had new, untested depths.

"You and Chow wait outside," he said at last, and they obeyed without a word. Sookie swayed slightly in her chair, and he immediately recognized the signs of fainting. "Don't you do it." You are stronger than that. And she was: she straightened and the life returned to her eyes.

He didn't like sitting across the table from her; he rose and took Pam's chair, moving it close to face Sookie. He leaned towards her and placed his hand over both of hers. They felt unusually small and cold, and he stroked his thumb soothingly a few times over her skin. His face was very near hers, but she didn't look at him. Had she taken the torture threat seriously?

"I don't enjoy seeing you scared of me. I have always been very fond of you." Not exactly spilling his "emotional guts," but close. He smiled at her. "Plus, I want to fuck you." Emotional guts and honesty in one. Still she gave him no reaction. "When we kiss…" His eyes fell to her lips, and his fangs extended. "It's very exciting." He leaned in closer and took in her scent, thinking of the feel of her under him on the hood of the car, the way her body had curved into his, soft and warm, on the bed. All thoughts of Bill and secret projects were banished.

"Somehow, that torture plan didn't make me feel very sexy," she said.

He placed his mouth next to her ear and smiled. "It did something for Chow, though."

"Could you cut to the chase here?" she said sharply. "Are you gonna torture me, or not? Are you my friend, or my enemy? Are you gonna find Bill, or let him rot?"

He leaned away, back in his original position, and gave a half-hearted laugh. How could she even ask if he was a friend or an enemy when he had stood by her at every turn since she'd known him? And did she really believe that he would consider harming a hair on her head? Perhaps it wasn't that vampires never offered their "emotional guts," but that she didn't recognize it when she saw it.

"Sookie," he sighed, "you are too much. I'm not going to torture you." He smiled. "For one thing, I would hate to ruin that beautiful skin; one day, I will see all of it. You won't always be so afraid of me, and you won't always be as devoted to Bill as you are now." The time had come to cause her pain, and he hated Bill for putting him in the position of having to do it. "There is something I must tell you." He slid his fingers through hers and clasped her hand, pleased that she tightened her hold as well. Her eyes as they met his were clear and steadfast. It may hurt less if she knew that Bill hadn't chosen it, so he picked his words carefully. "Bill was summoned to Mississippi by a vampire, a female he'd known many years ago." He paused in case she wanted to say something, but she was silent. "I don't know if you've realized that vampires almost never mate with other vampires for any longer than a rare one-night affair. We don't do this because it gives us power over each other forever, the mating and sharing of blood."

His casual sexual relationship with Pam had been one of those rare exceptions; in fact, most of the exceptions were makers and their children. Many vampires were created specifically because of a romantic attachment, and the bond between maker and child was already so strong that the sexual encounters made little difference.

He continued, "This vampire…"

"Her name?"

He had hoped that Sookie wouldn't make this more personal than it was, but she was human, after all. "Lorena." After a moment, he went on. "She was in Mississippi. I am not sure if she regularly lives there, or if she went there to ensnare Bill. She had been living in Seattle for years, I know, because she and Bill lived there together for many years. But whatever her intention in asking him to meet her there, what excuse she gave him for not coming here… maybe he was just being careful of you…" It seemed foolish to say that Bill hadn't wanted to hurt her, when he so very clearly had, intentional or not. He decided to re-emphasize the fact that Bill had not done this of his own free will. "He was… He became instantly enthralled with her, all over again. After a few nights, he called Pam to say that he was coming home early without telling you, so he could arrange your future care before he saw you again."

She swallowed and repeated, "Future… care?"

"Bill wanted to make a financial arrangement for you." And, no doubt, he had intended to ask Eric to watch over her, even though that went without saying.

"Pension me off."

That wasn't quite it, but he wasn't sure how to phrase it in a way that would give her comfort. "He wanted… Well, leave that for now. I would not have told you any of this, if Pam hadn't interfered. I would have sent you off in ignorance, because then it wouldn't have been words from my mouth that hurt you so badly. And I would not have had to plead with you, as I'm going to plead." Her hold on his hand tightened, and he couldn't help but relish it, however unfortunate the circumstances. "What I'm going to do..." He stopped, wondering how much he should tell her about his own investment in this. Would it matter? If she knew the political implications, would it make her more or less likely to help? "And you have to understand, Sookie, my hide depends on this, too." Her eyes widened, and her whole expression was an unasked question. "Yes, my job, and maybe my life, too, Sookie. Not just yours and Bill's."

There, he had said it. He had admitted to her that he – the one she couldn't distinguish as a friend or an enemy – needed her. And he saw in her eyes that it did matter. He carressed her fingers gently and explained to her about the arrangement with Alcide Herveaux, and she nodded along in silence.

"The man who tried to abduct you was from Jackson," he continued, "going by the bills in

his car, and he was a Were, as the wolf's head on his vest indicates. I don't know why they came after you. But I suspect it means Bill is alive, and they wanted to grab you to use as leverage over him."

"Then I guess they should have abducted Lorena," she observed bitterly.

Even in her pain and confusion, she was smart as a whip. "Maybe they already have her. But maybe Bill has realized it is Lorena who betrayed him. He wouldn't have been taken if she hadn't revealed the secret he had told her. Another puzzle is why she happened to be there at all. I think I would have known if she'd been a regular member of the Mississippi group. But I'll be thinking about that in my spare time. If this plan doesn't work within about three days, Sookie, we may have to kidnap one of the Mississippi vampires in return. This would almost certainly lead to a war, and a war - even with Mississippi - would be costly in lives and money. And in the end, they would kill Bill anyway. But know this: If they have Bill, if he is still alive, we will get him back." His fingers stilled in hers. "And you will be together again, if that's what you want." Or you could be mine, as you should be. As you will be one day. "To answer your question, I am your friend, and that will last as long as I can be your friend without jeopardizing my own life or the future of my area."

He had never said such a thing to any human, and he hardly realized it had poured from his mouth until he finished. If Sookie had any understanding of the magnitude of what he'd just told her, she gave no sign of it.

"As long as it's convenient for you, you mean."

If she had slapped him, it would have been less insulting, and she seemed to read his expression accurately. It wasn't her fault, he reminded himself. She knew next to nothing about their ways… what it meant for him to care about her that way, much less to voice it. He rubbed her forearms with his palms in soft, slow motions. His attachment to her should trouble him, but he found himself welcoming it.

"Let me ask you something, Eric." He said nothing, waiting for her to go on. "If I'm understanding you, Bill was working on a project for the… for the queen of Louisiana. But you didn't know about it. Is this right?"

As far as he knew, it was right. Sophie-Anne had certainly informed him of a secret project, and he couldn't imagine that Bill had multiple secret projects. After some seconds of consideration, he replied, "She told me she had work for Bill to do, but not what it was, or why he had to be the one to do it, or when it would be complete."

"So why isn't this queen looking for Bill?"

Eric kept his eyes fixed on hers. "She doesn't know he's gone."

"Why is that?"

She was getting to the heart of why he needed her – why he was willing to plead. She knew it, and he let her take the steps to get there.

"We haven't told her," he said.

"Why not?"

"She would punish us."

"Why?"

"For letting something happen to Bill when he was doing a special project for her."

Her eyes widened. "What would that punishment be?"

"Oh," he said lightly, with a short laugh, "with her it's difficult to tell. Something very unpleasant." The end result of the unpleasantness would probably be death.

He leaned towards her again, unable to stop himself. She was like the true north on his compass, and he wanted to be near her. She had been drinking hot chocolate, and the smell of it on her breath was heady. Every inch of her skin, every pulse of her blood, called to him. He wanted to touch her anywhere and everywhere. He pressed his cheek to hers, closing his eyes at the warmth.

"Eric," she said, unmoving as he enjoyed her.

"Mmm."

"Really, what will the queen do to you if you can't produce Bill on the date her project is due?"

Something in her voice shook him from his reverie and he leaned back again. Had she realized, finally, the power she had over him in this? It was with genuine unease that he replied, "Sookie, you really don't want to know." Or perhaps she did…? He knew that she had wished never to see him again. "Producing his work would be good enough. Bill's actual presence would be a bonus."

There was a set to her jaw that he would have admired at any other time. "And what will I get in return for doing this for you?"

Now he smiled. She had been hurt, and she was frightened, but she was no doormat. This was the quality in her that Bill had failed to understand. She didn't want "arrangements." She wanted to fight back.

"If Pam hadn't hinted to you about Bill, his safe return would have been enough and you would have jumped at the chance to help."

"But now I know about Lorena."

"And knowing, do you agree to do this for us?" He already knew the answer. It had been flashing in her eyes for several minutes, and he felt her resolve.

"Yes." She set her jaw again. "On one condition."

He had a feeling he already knew; Pam had been right. Vengeance was just as powerful as love. "What would that be?"

"If something happens to me, I want you take her out."

For a moment he was stunned that his suspicion was confirmed, and then he laughed. "I would have to pay a huge fine, and I'd have to accomplish it first. That's easier said than done. She's three hundred years old." The fine was no object; he had already paid once for her life, and he would do it again gladly.

"You've told me that what will happen to you if all this comes unraveled would be pretty horrible."

"True."

"You've told me you desperately need me to do this for you."

"True."

"That's what I ask in return."

Her ruthlessness was delicious. "You might make a decent vampire, Sookie. All right. Done. If anything happens to you, she'll never fuck Bill again." He grinned.

"Oh, it's not just that," she said.

He raised an eyebrow. This should be interesting. "No?"

"It's because she betrayed him."

That was the moment when he knew he would take every bullet that came her way. He was lost.

"Tell me this, Sookie," he said quietly. "Would you ask this of me if she were a human?" Not that it mattered; he would do what she asked, and he would relish it.

"If she were a human, I'd take care of it myself."

She pulled away from him and stood up, and he followed her out of the kitchen. He took the TrueBlood with him, since he had taken only a few small sips. He was certainly hungry now.

"She will help us?" Chow asked as they walked to their cars.

"Yes," Eric answered, "but she's doing it for herself. Not for Bill. Not for us." And that is as it should be.

Chapter Text

The Jackson lodging of Alcide Herveaux was easy to find with the directions provided; even if he hadn't been familiar with the city, he would have located it with no difficulty. Most of the window shades in the building had been drawn down for the night, but he levitated and circled them until he felt her presence strongly behind one darkened window. He knocked softly and hoped that the Were didn't hear anything.

Sookie, however, dashed that plan by giving a sharp cry. A few moments later, the shade lifted, and Sookie stood behind the wire screen and glass, her hair almost shining in the darkness. She frowned at him before she turned her attention to the lamp and switched it on. He gestured for her to open the window, and she began fiddling with the latch.

"What the hell do you want?" she asked. Behind her, the Were ran shirtless into the room. Sookie ignored him. "You better leave me alone and let me get some sleep, and you better stop showing up outside places in the middle of the night and expecting me to let you in!"

He grinned throughout this tirade. When she finished, he said simply, "Sookie, let me in."

"No!" she snapped, then added, "Well, actually, this is Alcide's place. Alcide, what you want to do?"

Eric didn't give a fuck what Alcide wanted to do, since nothing prevented him from speaking to Sookie just as he was now. But he would prefer to be in the room, so he bit back the rude words on the tip of his tongue.

Alcide looked resigned; he seemed to know that he had no choice but to admit Eric. They had a deal, after all. "What do you want, Eric?"

"We need to talk."

The Were turned to Sookie. "If I let him in now, can I rescind it?"

Sookie raised an eyebrow in Eric's direction and smiled pertly. "Sure. Any moment, you can rescind it."

"Okay," Alcide sighed. "You can come in, Eric." He removed the screen, and Eric climbed through the window as gracefully as possible.

As he surveyed the room, Sookie slid the window down again. He turned to her and found her eyes fixed on Alcide's bare chest as a blush swept over her face. Then her eyes found his own and locked on them. Had she fucked the Were? Surely not. He convinced himself that she was much too good for that because he couldn't stomach the alternative.

"What have you found out, Sookie?" he asked her.

She had crossed her arms over her chest, and she was shivering. "The vampires here do have him."

He had assumed as much, but to know it with certainty was another matter. If Edgington was involved as well, that complicated matters all the more. This would have to be handled with great caution and finesse; at least, he thought wryly, he was known for one of those two qualities.

"Isn't it a little dangerous for you to be on Edgington's turf, unannounced?"

Eric blinked and looked at the Were, jolted from his thoughts. "Oh, yes," he replied, unable to keep from grinning, "very dangerous."

Sookie gave a loud, theatrical yawn. Apparently she was bored by the fact that he was putting himself at great risk. "Anything else you need, Eric?"

I need the Were to go to his own room, and then I need to divest you of that robe and anything else underneath it, lay you down on the bed, and fuck you until dawn.

"Do you have anything else to report?"

"Yes." Her eyes flitted to an imaginary spot on the carpet. "They've tortured him."

"Then they won't let him go," he said quietly, watching her. From the way her eyes welled and her chin set, he saw that she understood what he was telling her.

"You're going to attack?"

That was a good question. Attacking was the appropriate response, but it would cause a hell of a mess. He didn't want to go into all that right now, especially in front of Alcide Herveaux. "Let me think on it," he told her. "You are going back to the bar tomorrow night?"

"Yes," she said. "Russell invited us specifically."

Alcide, who had remained appropriately quiet, added, "Sookie attracted his attention tonight."

"But that's perfect!" he said with too much enthusiasm, attempting to lift her spirits. All he felt from her at the moment was utter helplessness. He couldn't let her give in to that because he still needed her. "Tomorrow night, sit with the Edgington crew and pick their brains, Sookie," he told her.

She met his eyes again. "Well, that would never have occurred to me, Eric. Gosh, I'm glad you woke me up tonight to explain that to me."

Her rudeness was preferable to her wallowing, so he swallowed it easily. "No problem." He smiled. "Anytime you want me to wake you up, Sookie, you have only to say." In every sense of the word.

"Go away, Eric." She turned to the Were. "Good night again, Alcide."

She wouldn't get rid of him that easily. He stood where he was, waiting for Alcide to leave them alone, but the Were had the upper hand.

"I rescind your invitation into my apartment."

Shit. There was nothing he could do to stop himself from opening the window and going back outside. But he forced himself to smile as he turned and waved good night to Sookie.

His next destination was Pat's, a small vampire bar in Raymond, just outside of Jackson. The bar managed to thrive, mostly owing to its location near the campus of Hinds Community College. He had a good chance of meeting at least one vampire who could give him useful information about Edgington.

"Leif," he said shortly at the door, nodding to the bouncer. He was admitted without a second glance.

The bar hadn't changed since the one time he visited it several years before. It looked more like a typical college-town bar than a vampire bar, with framed, autographed posters of athletes and coaches, as well as pennants for Hinds and other nearby schools. A large sign near the door promised free wireless access. It was relatively empty tonight, and his eyes fell on a vampire who looked like she had just stepped out of her sorority house. She was blond and thin, her long legs and small, round ass on perfect display in tight jeans. She turned to him as he approached her, and he saw that she wore a Hinds sweatshirt.

"Hi," she said, looking up at him under lashes thick with mascara.

"Leif," he said. He took her hand and kissed it. "And your name is?"

"Lauren. I've never seen you here before." Her tone implied that if she had seen him, she would have fucked him right there on the bar counter.

He smiled his most charming smile. "I might have visited sooner if I knew of the town's numerous… attractions." As he spoke the last word, he ran his eyes blatantly over her body, then back up to her face. "Will you sit with me?"

She nodded and followed him to a pair of stools near the counter. She wore heavy perfume, but he could still detect traces of Were. Interesting.

"So, what brings you to our neck of the woods, Leif? Business or pleasure?"

"Business," he replied, "though I confess I hope to indulge in a bit of the latter as well."

Lauren looked more than happy to grant this indulgence, but she said only, "Cool."

"Tomorrow night I have an appointment with the king." He laid his hand on her arm and lightly stroked it with his fingertips. "Have you ever met him?"

"Nope, but I don't think I'd be his type anyway."

"Why is that?"

"Well, he's gay. My boyfriend goes over there all the time for parties and stuff."

He lifted his hand from his arm. "Boyfriend?"

"We're not exclusive or anything," she said hastily, and her eyes added, Thank God, because I want to take you home tonight and lick every inch of you. "Some nights he comes over after one of those parties, and I can tell he's been with one of them."

"Your boyfriend is human, then?"

"Were." She laid a hand on his thigh and leaned forward on her stool. "He isn't coming over tonight."

"I wish I could take his place," Eric lied smoothly, staring at her lip-glossed mouth. "But I am expected elsewhere. Why don't you write down your number on one of these napkins, and I'll call you next time I'm in town."

The girl practically salivated as she complied with this request, and Eric slipped the napkin into his pocket to be discarded later. He left Pat's and returned to Jackson in frustration, having learned nothing useful – unless Edgington's sexual preference proved useful, which was doubtful. There were many hours still until dawn, and he searched Jackson until the first hues of brown dyed the horizon. He found nothing.

He rose immediately at sundown that night and pulled on the suit he'd brought with him. If he was going to visit Edgington's club, he wanted to look as attractive to the king as he could. And he wanted to look good for Sookie, who might very well become his tonight. The chances of Bill being still alive were slim, and she would look to Eric – finally – for comfort and protection. He would eagerly give her both. With an expertise perfected over centuries, he weaved his hair into a braid, then finished with a pair of glasses as a small attempt to disguise himself.

When he approached Sookie's window this time, he heard the voices of Alcide and another man inside, so he knocked just loudly enough for her to hear. She appeared moments later with her finger over her lips. Smiling, he indicated that she should let him in, but she shook her head and again gave him the sign to keep quiet. He watched as she went to the door and pressed her ear against it. She looked at him and signaled for him to wait a bit longer. He wondered idly who the other man could be, especially since Sookie seemed so cautious about interrupting their conversation.

The other man's voice disappeared, and Alcide entered Sookie's room, grimacing when he looked past her and saw Eric floating outside.

"Alcide, I heard most of that," Sookie was telling the Were. "I'm sorry I eavesdropped, but it did seem like it concerned me. Um… Eric is here."

"So I see. I guess I'd better let him in." He strode over to the window and opened it. "Enter, Eric."

Sookie gaped at him, and he was pleased at the stirring of attraction he felt from her. "Are you in disguise?"

"Yes, I am. Don't I look different?"

She swallowed. "Yes, you look just like Eric, dressed up for once."

"Do you like the suit?" he asked, grinning, knowing already that she did. Very much.

"Sure." Her eyes and the flush in her cheeks belied her short answer. "Who did your hair?"

"Oooh, jealous?" His grin widened, and he thought absently that he always grinned like a madman in her presence.

"No," she said with a roll of her eyes, though she smiled. "I thought maybe they could teach me how to do that to mine."

He was on the verge of assuring her that he would do so gladly, but Alcide spoke first. "What do you mean by leaving the dead man in my closet?"

What the fuck…? He stared at the Were in silence, but received no explanation. "It wasn't Bubba in the closet, was it?" he asked finally. Bubba had helped him search the city for a few hours the night before, but he hadn't heard from the brain-addled vampire since then.

They gaped at him for a moment, then Sookie repeated, "Bubba? But…" She turned to Alcide then and explained, "Bubba is actually Elvis. He was turned by a fan right when he was about to die of that drug overdose. He's not quite right in the head."

"So that explains all the sightings. Damn… They were all for real!"

Eric smirked. "The Memphis group wanted to keep him, but it was just impossible. He kept wanting to go home, and then there'd be incidents. So we started passing him around."

Alcide returned Eric's smirk with one of his own. "And now you've lost him."

"It's possible that the people who were trying to get to Sookie in Bon Temps got Bubba instead." And woe unto them if they had. He smiled in spite of himself as he straightened his suit from the climb through the window. "So," he said briskly, returning to the subject that had really piqued his interest, "who was in the closet?"

"The biker who marked Sookie last night. He made a pretty rough pass at her while I was in the men's room."

"Marked her?" Eric repeated. The man should be grateful, wherever he was now, that he was dead.

"Yes," said Alcide. He looked at Eric seriously. "Blood offense."

Eric turned to Sookie. "You didn't say anything about this last night."

"I didn't want to talk about it," she replied in a small voice. Then her expression turned defiant. "Besides, it wasn't much blood."

"Let me see," he told her in a tone that brooked no opposition.

She tugged her shirt and bra strap aside to reveal four swollen, scabbed crescents. "See, no big deal," she said lightly. "I was more mad than scared or hurt."

He stared at the wounds. Though they were small, the anger and hatred behind them was clear. The untouched skin of her shoulder was just as he remembered it, smooth and soft. He smelled her lotion. Sookie released the neck of her shirt to re-cover the marks, and Eric shook himself from his reverie.

"And he was dead in the closet?" he asked Alcide.

"Yes. Had been dead for hours."

"What killed him?"

Sookie answered his unspoken question. "He hadn't been bitten. He looked as though his neck might have been broken. We didn't feel like looking that closely." She studied him for a moment, her skepticism obvious. "You're saying you aren't the guilty party?"

"No," he said darkly, "though it would have been a pleasure to have done it." More than a pleasure. It would have been sublime.

"So who put him there?" she mused aloud.

"And why?" added Alcide.

Eric wondered why they hadn't offered to show him the body yet. "Would it be too much to ask where he is now?" he asked dryly.

"Um…" said Sookie, "well, he's…"

He lifted his head slightly and sniffed the air. Nothing. "The body's not here," he said slowly. "You called the police?"

"Well, no," Sookie admitted. She glanced at Alcide. "Actually, we uh…" Her voice trailed off.

"We dumped him out in the country," said Alcide matter-of-factly.

Eric wanted to grin again, but he suppressed it with great effort. "Well, aren't you two enterprising?"

"We worked it all out." Sookie's voice had an edge to it, and he liked it.

This time he allowed himself to smile at her. "Yes. I'll bet you did."

The corners of her mouth tipped up, but Alcide spoke before she could. "The packmaster came to see me today. Just now, in fact. And he didn't know that Jerry was missing. In fact, Jerry went complaining to Terence after he left the bar last night, telling Terence he had a grievance against me. So he was seen and heard after the incident at Josephine's."

"So you may have gotten away with it."

Alcide nodded and crossed his arms. "I think we did."

"You should have burned him. It would have killed any trace of your smell on him." And Sookie's smell was unmistakable.

"I don't think anyone could pick out our smell, really and truly," Sookie assured him. "I don't think we ever touched him with our bare skin."

The Were nodded again. "I agree, and I'm one of the two-natured."

Vampires could smell humans on people and objects that hadn't come anywhere near bare skin, but it seemed pointless to bring it up. Vampires wouldn't be searching for a lost Were, anyway. "I have no idea who would have killed him and put him in the apartment," he told them, ready to be done with this topic. "Obviously, someone wanted his death blamed on you."

Sookie frowned. "Then why not call the police from a pay phone and tell them there's a dead body in 504?" she asked.

"A good question, Sookie, and one I can't answer right now. I will be at the club tonight," he said, changing the subject abruptly to the point at hand. "If I need to talk to you, Alcide, tell Russell that I am your friend from out of town, and I've been invited to meet Sookie, your new girlfriend." It galled him to say that, but he was an expert at pretending to be aloof and brisk.

"Okay, but I don't understand why you want to be there. It's asking for trouble. What if one of the vamps recognizes you?"

Eric gave him an offhanded shrug. "I don't know any of them."

"Why are you taking this chance?" Sookie asked after a brief silence. Her eyes met his steadily. "Why go there at all?"

"There may be something I can pick up on that you won't hear of, or that Alcide won't know because he is not a vampire," he explained. She didn't know yet what they were dealing with, and it was time to tell her. For that, the Were had to be gone. "Excuse us for a minute, Alcide. Sookie and I have some business to discuss."

The other man turned to Sookie to see if this was acceptable, and Eric swallowed a rude remark. He didn't need Alcide Herveaux's permission for anything; he had asked only out of politeness. His good humor could only extend so far. Finally, he left them alone.

Eric's eyes fell on Sookie's shoulder, as if he could see the wounds underneath her shirt. "Do you want me to heal the marks on your shoulder?" He was almost salivating at the thought of tasting her again – possibly giving her more of his own blood.

"How would I explain that, Eric?" she asked. "The whole bar saw him grab me."

If she were his, she wouldn't have to explain it. Everyone would know that it was his blood that had healed her wounds, his blood inside her, binding her to him. Soon she would be his. For now, he had to let the ugly marks remain. "You're right. Of course. You're not Were, you're not undead. How would you have healed so quickly?" He listened to the steady pumping of her heart for a few seconds, then reached for her hand and held it between his. Instead of healing her wounds, he now would have to inflict some of his own. "I have searched Jackson," he said slowly, keeping his eyes on hers. "I have looked in warehouses, cemeteries, farmhouses, and any place that had a trace of vampire scent about it – every property Edgington owns, and some his followers own." He squeezed her hand, warm in his cold ones. "I haven't found a trace of Bill. I am very afraid, Sookie, that it is becoming most likely that Bill is dead. Finally dead."

Her legs buckled, but he caught her in his arms before she fell, and he carried her to a nearby chair. He sat down, then cradled her against his chest like a child, brushing her hair back from her face with his fingers. The last time he had held someone like this, it had been a child: his youngest son. "I've upset you too much," he said, lifting her chin so that she was looking at him. "I was trying to be practical, and instead I was…"

"Brutal," she finished for him.

Tears escaped her eyes, and he tasted them before he could stop himself. She didn't seem to mind at all; in fact, she closed her eyes and held still, leaning in a little. Then she rested her head on his shoulder again, allowing her full weight to settle against him. This would be his life now, he realized, if Bill really was gone. She would finally let him give her all the things he wanted to: protection, security, money, pleasure. Even affection. He could give her anything she wanted.

But she wanted Bill.

Well, then, if the bastard was still alive, she would have that, too. "The only place I haven't checked is Russell Edgington's compound," he mused aloud. "His mansion, with its outbuildings. It would be amazing if Russell were rash enough to keep another vampire prisoner in his own home. But he's been king for a hundred years. It could be that he is that confident. Maybe I could sneak in over the wall, but I wouldn't come out again. The grounds are patrolled by Weres. It's very unlikely we'll get access to such a secure place, and he won't invite us in except in very unusual circumstances." He sat in silence for another few minutes, then added carefully, "I think you must tell me what you know about Bill's project."

Her body, which had been relaxed and heavy against his, now stiffened. "Is this what all this holding and niceness is about?" she said icily. She pushed herself off of his chest and jumped away from the chair. "You want to get some information out of me?"

It was so nonsensically unfair and ungrateful that his mind went off reeling for a split second. Then he stood and faced her, glaring down into her frowning face. "I think Bill is dead, and I'm trying to save my own life, and yours, you stupid woman," he hissed.

Her eyes never dropped away from his with the intimidation that marked everyone else in his retinue. "I. Will. Find. Bill."

The anger flooded out of him just as quickly as it had come. He loved her spirit, but pragmatism was not one of her strong points. "You can't make eyes at Edgington, Sookie," he explained. "He's not interested in women. And if I flirted with him, he would be suspicious. A vampire mating with another – that's unusual. Edgington hasn't gotten where he is by being gullible. Maybe his second, Betty Joe, would be interested in me, but she is a vampire, too, and the same rule applies. I can't tell you how unusual Bill's fascination with Lorena is. In fact, we disapprove of vampires loving others of our kind."

Though that didn't stop it from happening; the queen of Louisiana herself was in love with another vampire, and Edgington was known to have long-standing affairs with other kings. Some vampires didn't mind making themselves vulnerable and submissive to an equal in the way that a human might be. Such behavior in a king or queen was especially distasteful, but he was in no position to correct them.

"How'd you find all this out?" she asked.

"I met up with a young female vampire last night, and her boyfriend also went to parties at Edgington's place."

"Oh, he's bi?"

He hadn't the time or inclination to explain that many supernatural beings – particularly vampires – were bi. When one lived for hundreds of years, those types of lines gradually melted away. As humanity faded, so did the perceptions of race and gender… with other human characteristics following suit. He said simply, "He's a werewolf, so I guess he's two-natured in more ways than one."

"I thought vamps didn't date werewolves, either," she said.

"She is being perverse. The young ones like to experiment."

"So, what you're saying is that I need to concentrate on getting an invitation into Edgington's compound, since there's nowhere else in Jackson that Bill can be hidden?"

She still spoke of Bill as if he were alive somewhere. If that was what she needed to believe in order to keep working on this puzzle, then so be it. "He could be somewhere else in the city… but I don't think so. The possibility is faint." Even if he was alive, there was no telling what condition he was in. He chose his words carefully. "Remember, Sookie, they've had him for days now."

"I understand," she said with a nod.

Standing there in her old sweatshirt, she suddenly seemed just as small and frail as she actually was. He reached out and took one of her hands. "Make yourself pretty," he said with a smile. "We have seducing to do." He almost added, "Don't worry, we'll find him," but he would not lie to her. Platitudes were for people who were too weak for the truth.

"Okay," she said. She freed her hand and used it to tuck her slightly disheveled hair behind one ear. "I'll see you soon."

He slid himself back out through the window into the darkness, now lit brightly by the full moon. On to Club Dead.

Chapter Text

Eric placed himself in an inconspicuous part of the bar, where he leaned against the wall, sipped absently from a bottle of blood, and chatted easily with anyone who stood near him. Sookie didn't notice him when she entered, but she commanded his full attention in a pale gold dress that made the most of her mouth-watering body. He ran his eyes over her with the slow appreciation that one might give a work of art. Though one didn't usually want to fuck the Mona Lisa.

Considering that it was a full moon night, nothing remotely interesting happened until Sookie – who still had not noticed him – and her friend Tara, the one from the orgy, got up to dance. It was clearly a dance they had rehearsed and performed before, and it was sexy as hell. She moved her round hips and ass like a goddess, and her cheeks flushed with the blood he would never get tired of tasting.

The crowd dispersed after they applauded the dancers, and he finally caught Sookie's eye. Still flushed, she smiled broadly at him. She rarely greeted him with such genuine pleasure. The feeling he picked up most strongly from her was pride. He was too consumed with lust at the moment to return her smile, but she seemed to get the idea.

Things got quiet again, and he fell into conversation with a female Were who made no secret about her desire to bed him. Suddenly, from the direction of the bar, he heard Sookie's voice cry out in panic: "Stake!"

He spun around, almost knocking over the Were, and began pushing people out of his way. Why are you hurrying toward a stake, when it can't even hurt a human? his rational mind asked him. To hell with his rational mind. The crowd was scattering backwards, away from the fight, and he was pushed back with the tide of people in spite of his efforts to move forward. He cursed under his breath.

Sookie was holding on to the man's arm, refusing to release it, even as the attacker's companion beat at her. She was something else. The oaf seemed to realize that he could simply take the stake in his free hand. Sookie wobbled a bit on her tall black heels as the stake-wielder's companion ran for the door. Some of the crowd went after him, making it easier for Eric to push forward to Sookie.

But as he watched in horror and fury – and with maddening helplessness – the man slammed the stake into Sookie's side. The intoxicating scent of her blood wafted towards him, and he closed his eyes for a few seconds. Not now, he told himself. He returned his attention to the scene, where Edgington's second-in-command had killed the bastard, robbing Eric of that pleasure.

Both the dead man and Sookie collapsed to the floor. Eric roughly slung people out of his way until he was at the front of the small circle surrounding her. He couldn't give any sign that he knew her, or both of their lives would be further endangered. Russell Edgington was not stupid. And if he got too close to her and that sweet blood…

Tara screamed and dropped to her knees beside her friend. "Call 911!" she shouted.

The fool. As if a crowd of Weres and vampires would call 911 to a scene with dead humans. With a choked voice, Sookie explained this to her friend.

"The vampires are not gonna let you die," insisted Tara. "You just saved one of them!" She clearly knew nothing about vampires, despite the fact that she seemed to be dating one.

"Tara, you have to get out of here," she said weakly. "This is getting crazy, and if there's any chance the police are coming, you can't be here."

"I'm not going to leave you until you have help." Tara looked around at them, waiting for someone to step forward and do something. She didn't seem to recognize Eric, disguised as he was. Then again, she had been glamored after the massacre at the orgy.

If circumstances had been different, Sookie would have already been in Eric's arms and on her way to a trusted doctor. He tried to meet her eyes, to communicate with her silently. Her face was getting paler every minute.

"The tall blond will help me," she said, and she pointed at him.

No, no, no, he thought. Sookie, be careful. Thank the gods she hadn't said his name.

Tara looked at him. "Please help Sookie."

Her date looked at Eric with threats in his eyes. "This young man will be glad to help your friend."

Young man, indeed. "Of course," Eric replied smoothly. "I'm a good friend of Alcide's."

It was laughable, the idea of a vampire and a Were being good friends, but at this point, no one seemed to be paying attention to details. Hell, she might have shouted, "Eric Northman will help me because I'm Sookie Stackhouse, the invaluable telepath!" and no one would have blinked.

He knelt beside her, and the scent of her blood became overpowering. Oh, fuck. Fuck. He tried to focus on her face, tried to force his mind into control of every other instinct. He almost reached for her hand before he remembered himself. "You don't know how hard it is not to bend over and lick," he said quietly.

Sookie's eyes were full of pain and fear. "If you do, everyone else will. And they won't just lick, they'll bite."

"That's the only thing stopping me."

Russell Edgington had appeared by this time, and he leaned over Sookie. "Who are you?" he asked Eric.

Eric remained calm with the practice and skill of surviving centuries. "I'm a friend of Alcide's." Might as well leave out the "good" this time; it had to remain plausible. "He invited me here tonight to meet his new girlfriend. My name is Leif." Don't ask me why I didn't report to the local Sheriff. Don't ask me any questions.

Edgington narrowed his eyes. "Alcide doesn't hang with many vampires."

"I'm one of the few."

Fortunately for them both, Edgington seemed to be more interested in saving Sookie than poking holes through Eric's flimsy story. "We have to get this young lady out of here," he ordered.

"We have to be careful about moving her," Eric said, speaking loudly over the din of shifters going after the attacker's corpse. "Perhaps the stake didn't damage any of her organs, but we can't be sure. And she'll need a doctor. There's a chance that it maybe has nicked a kidney."

Russell nodded. "We'll take her to my place. The limo's on its way." He met Eric's eyes evenly. "I'm sure a familiar face would make her more comfortable. Don't you agree?"

What he meant was, I'm not done questioning you.

"I'll come to your house with her. It's the least I can do for Alcide." After this bit of bullshit, he turned his attention back to Sookie. "She's sweating very heavily." She also had a nasty cut on her arm, possibly from one of the glasses that got broken in the fight. He removed her heels and pulled her panty hose down her legs, bunched up the material, and pressed it to the cut. Come to think of it, he could have used something else, but that would have required leaving her side. And it would have meant he never got to see the sexy black garters that slid down with the hose. Focus.

"Speaking of your Were friend, where is he?" Edgington asked, looking around. "You'd think he wouldn't desert his girlfriend like this."

You wouldn't believe the men who desert this woman when she needs them. "Alcide turned into a wolf and chased after the assassin's companion," he explained.

"Leif…" Sookie murmured. She moved one of her bare legs slightly. "Leif… I guess my garters are showing. Does that mean…?"

She was incoherent. "Yes, Sookie?" he said in a soothing voice. But she had passed out.

"Let's go," Edgington said, snapping his cell phone shut. "My limo is just outside."

Eric slid an arm under Sookie's neck and raised her slightly, cradling her head against his chest. This would hurt like hell if she were conscious. Then he slid his other arm under her knees to lift her. He took care that his arm was under the back of her dress and not against her bare legs. Even passed out with a stake protruding from her side, Sookie would want to be a lady. And Eric didn't want dozens of shifters to see his future lover's assets before he himself did. He rose from his knees rather ungracefully in his effort to jostle her as little as possible, then followed Russell outside.

The limo driver opened the door for him, and he laid Sookie down on the seat of the car. He walked around to the other side of the limo while the king and two of his men took the seat facing Sookie. He lifted her head into his lap and used his fingertips to smooth the messy strands of hair away from her face. The blood was drying around the rough wood in her skin, and he forced himself not to look at it.

They rode quietly, though Eric knew that Edgington was watching him. He very carefully did not meet the stare.

"Lucky no one's out in downtown Jackson on a weekend night in December," one of the men said.

Eric gave a short laugh, as if he knew all too well about December nights in Jackson. There were beads of sweat on Sookie's forehead, but she was shivering, and her breaths were uneven. He made sure that her skirt covered her legs as she would want, and that the dipping neck of her dress still held in her breasts with whatever modesty was possible. Tonight he would give her his blood – a substantial amount this time. He would put more of himself into this fragile, stubborn human body. Why?

As they drove, Sookie opened her eyes a few times, only to close them again seconds later. Good. She shouldn't be feeling any of this.

"How did she know what he was going to do?" the talkative one wondered aloud.

It worried him that Edgington's man thought that Sookie knew what someone would do, instead of assuming the obvious: that she had seen the stake. Did they know full well that they were carrying Bill's telepath to their mansion? Eric lied quickly and easily. "She saw him pull the stake out, she said. She was going to the bar to get another drink."

"Lucky for Betty Joe," Russell replied. "I guess she's still hunting the one that got away."

They passed through security at the gate of the mansion and rode to a stop in front of the house itself. Sookie was conscious, and Eric raised one of her arms up around his neck as he lifted her from the car as gently as possible. She rested her head heavily against his shoulder as he carried her inside.

They were surrounded with residents and visitors of the mansion, almost all male, almost all very young, and almost all in various stages of undress. The injured woman in his arms was certainly a curiosity and a temptation, but Eric found most of the stares on himself. He was generous with smiles and winks. Leif had nothing to hide.

"This is one of the doctors I keep on staff," Edgington said, indicating an old human man. "He won't do the actual healing. I have a vampire healer upstairs for that."

Eric nodded. No doubt Edgington's healer had the same gift that his own did. It wasn't at all uncommon – rather like a human being double-jointed.

The doctor approached Sookie with a syringe, and Eric looked at him warily. "Pain-killer," the doctor said. He swabbed a small area on Sookie's upper arm and slid in the needle.

A minute later, Sookie opened her eyes, and Eric watched her as she took in her surroundings. "Water, water, everywhere, nor any drop to drink," she murmured. He laughed heartily as she gave him a slow, drugged smile.

The doctor looked pleased. "Good, the shot's taking effect." He turned to Edgington. "Will you be needing me?"

As he made arrangements with the doctor, Russell motioned for Eric to go upstairs. Eric was only too glad to leave. If Sookie had been given drugs, there was no telling what she might let slip.

"Rhett and Scarlett," she mumbled.

She seemed to be incoherent again. Either that, or he was failing to see what Gone with the Wind had to do with their present situation. Granted, he was a charming rake in pursuit of a woman who stubbornly refused to return – or even accept – his affection. "I don't understand," he said as he followed Edgington's people upstairs.

"You haven't seen Gone with the Wind! You'll have to watch it on video." She frowned. "Why am I acting so stupid? Why am I not scared?"

He grinned. "That human doctor gave you a big dose of drugs. Now I am carrying you to a bedroom so you can be healed."

Carrying her to a bedroom… ah, that was the Gone with the Wind reference she was thinking of. Maybe she would come around to him sooner that he thought, if she associated him with such a romantic moment. He had been known to leave women smiling and humming with sexual fulfillment. He fought back a laugh.

"He's here," she said suddenly.

He gave her a warning look and hoped she wasn't too drugged to understand it. "Russell, yes. But I'm afraid that Alcide made less than a stellar choice, Sookie. He raced off into the night after the other attacker. He should have stayed with you." Just as Bill had deserted her after the Fellowship attack in Dallas.

"Screw him."

Eric smiled at her again. "He wishes, especially after seeing you dance." As do I.

"Giving me drugs maybe wasn't such a great idea," she said. Her eyelids were heavy.

"I agree," he told her frankly. With just as much honesty he added, "But I am glad you're out of pain."

They were shown into a large bedroom that reminded him of Pam's room in London, a long time ago. He laid Sookie down on the beautiful canopied bed and brought his mouth to her ear. "Be careful."

"—shouldn't be too bad," Edgington was saying to one of the morbidly fascinated onlookers. "He can glamour her, and that'll help. This is the bed we usually use for healings, since it's so nice and high." The king traced a finger down the young man's cheek.

"What's gonna happen?" Sookie asked in a fearful voice, drawing his attention back to her.

Before he could answer her, Edgington introduced a shirtless vampire with latex pants. "Miss Stackhouse, this is Ray Don."

"How de do," Sookie said groggily, ever polite.

"Pleased to meet you," Ray Don replied. "I'm not going to ask you how you're doing, cause I can see you got a great big hole in your side."

Sookie smiled a little. "Kind of ironic, isn't it, that it was the human that got staked?"

Ray Don didn't seem to know what to make of Sookie, so he looked up at Eric for help.

"I'll tell you what's going to happen, Sookie," he said in answer to her original question. He spoke slowly, as if he were explaining to a child. "You know when we start to feed and our fangs come out, they release a little anticoagulant?" She gave a sound that sounded like an affirmative. "And when we are ready to finish feeding, the fangs release a little coagulant and a little trace of the… the…" He fished for a word that she would understand.

"Stuff that helps you all heal so fast?" she offered.

"Yes, exactly."

"So Ray Don is going to what?"

"Ray Don, his nest mates say, has an extra supply of all these chemicals in his body. This is his talent. So he will start the process on a volunteer, and when he has fed, he will begin cleaning your wound and healing it."

"Okay, let's get the show on the road," she said with resolve.

He watched patiently as Ray Don sucked face with his volunteer, bit him, and pulled away with a respectable-enough erection straining his tight pants and – more importantly – a mouth ready with the fluids that Sookie needed.

Now to "glamour" Sookie so that no one would know she was special. He sat beside her and held down her shoulders. "Look at me," he said sternly. "Look at me, Sookie." If they were going to pull this off with any plausibility, she would have to keep her eyes on him, and she would have to be at least somewhat stoic about the excruciating pain she was about to feel. Even if he hadn't felt the fear coming off of her in waves, her eyes would have told him everything. Don't let any of them see it but me, he begged her silently.

Ray Don leaned towards her and tested the stake in her side, his grim face confirming what Eric already knew: it was lodged in deeply. Even this small movement made the blood drain from Sookie's already pale face, and he could feel panic rising up in her at an alarming rate.

"Don't, Sookie!" He stared down into her eyes with all the intensity he could muster, as if he could glamour her by sheer will. "Look at me!"

But she didn't. She looked at her side, where Ray Don was just pulling out the stake. She screamed, and the sound tore at him until he felt like the ragged flesh in her side. Ray Don was attending the wound now, and Eric kept his eyes locked on hers as she dug her nails into his hands until they bled. She was fighting against the pain as if she refused not to feel it.

"Let go," he told her softly. He felt the small wounds in his palms healing already as she eased the pressure of her nails. He smiled at her with all the affection he felt. "No, not of me. You can hold on to me as long as you want." To his surprise, he felt unmitigated trust coming from her, and it took him aback. "Let go of the pain, Sookie," he said in a soothing voice. "Let go. You need to drift away."

And she did.

"I'm almost done," Ray Don said, looking up from her side with a bloody mouth. Sookie's sweet blood, wasted on him. "I don't think it damaged any of her organs. Too bad she couldn't keep her eyes on you. Would've spared her some pain."

"Yes, a pity."

The other vampires, most of whom had left the room for the unpleasant part of the procedure, had been gradually returning. They stood around the bed in a semicircle of hunger and lust. Eric did not remove his hands from Sookie's.

"Best get that dress off her," said Edgington when Ray Don rose and signaled that he was finished. "It's filthy and blood-soaked."

"I'll take care of her." Eric spoke quickly, but not too enthusiastically to be undressing his "good friend" Alcide's girlfriend. "Does anyone here have clothes that might fit her?"

"Me," said one of the men who had ridden with them in the limo.

"Thank you. Maybe you could bring them by later, or just leave them outside the door?" He looked at Edgington. "I think she should rest now."

"Very well," said Edgington, who had never stopped watching him with suspicion. He tossed a pocketknife at the bed, and Eric caught it with one hand. "That'll work to cut off the dress. My way of helping." He motioned for everyone to leave.

Eric watched them all leave until the last one closed the door behind him. He left Sookie's side and locked the door, then returned to her. What a sad loss this dress was, he thought as he slit it straight up the front. He cut the sleeves to free her arms and carefully pulled all the material away from her. She didn't stir. The destroyed dress he rolled into a ball and threw aside.

And there was Sookie, laid out on the bed in only her small, lacy bra and panties. Water, water, everywhere, nor any drop to drink, he thought with a wry smile. He devoted a few minutes to taking her in, his eyes wandering slowly over each delectable inch; not to do so would have been like slapping nature in the face. She could belong to him now that Bill was dead. He had seen the trust in her eyes earlier as he watched over her, and before now he had felt her attraction to him. But even if it took a little more time, she would be his one day.

He touched her foot and slid his fingers up her calf to her knee, on to her thigh and up to her hip. Not enough. Impatiently he tossed aside the glasses and the elastic band that held his hair back in the intricate braid she had admired earlier in the evening. He shrugged off his suit jacket, rid himself of his shirt, toed off his shoes and yanked off his socks, and kicked away his pants.

All of this he did in haste, but he joined her in the bed slowly and carefully, trying not to wake her. Noticing the goosebumps on her skin, he pulled the covers up over both of them, then draped his leg over one of hers and moved as close to her as he could. With eyes closed, he touched his nose to her shoulder and inhaled. He smelled her blood most strongly, mixed with a not-unpleasant hint of sweat from her ordeal, and underneath it all a trace of the perfume she must have dabbed on before she left for the bar. He kissed her shoulder, touched her skin briefly with the tip of his tongue. Down her neck he traced his fingertips, across the span of her collarbone, down between her breasts, whose curves he then traced along the lacy edge of her bra. He laid his palm on her stomach, then wrapped his arm fully around her.

He didn't realize that he had fallen into "downtime" until Sookie pulled down the covers, and he opened his eyes. Sookie was looking down at her side, where his hand rested inches from her wound.

"It's much better," he assured her.

She gasped with surprise, then looked at him. "Thank you, Eric."

He slid his palm back over her stomach, rubbing in absent circles. "For what?"

"For standing by me in the club," she said. Her lower lip trembled. "For coming here with me. For not leaving me alone with all these people."

He shifted a little so he could look down at her directly. Her lips were only inches below his. When he remembered their kisses from the night of the orgy, it took all his restraint to hold back now. "How grateful are you?"

When she replied, her voice was soft and relaxed, though he could hear her heart pounding. "That kind of ruins it, when you say something like that. You shouldn't want me to have sex with you just because I owe you."

But that wouldn't be the only reason; she was fooling herself if she thought so. She would know it soon enough. "I don't really care why you have sex with me," he murmured, lowering his mouth to hers, "as long as you do it."

No, it wasn't gratitude that led her to meet his tongue with hers the way she did, or slide her hands up to hold onto his shoulders as he moved over her, or moan softly beneath him. She liked him, and right now she wanted him. He cupped her breast through the soft material of her bra, and his fangs extended as she arched up into his touch. His hands wanted to touch every inch of her body, and he sent them on their way. Her hands were no less busy as they explored his chest and his back. She had raised one of her legs to cradle his hip. He was glad he had stripped down to his boxers, because pants would not have been comfortable at this moment. He kissed her without sparing any of the passion and hunger he felt.

He noticed that she flinched slightly as his fingers caressed her side on their way down to her hips. He would not have her tonight, not in her weakened condition. But he would give her something to remember him by… something to make her anticipate the night when they did finally have sex. Most of his weight still lay beside her on the bed, so he supported himself on one elbow as he glided one hand down between them. The scrap of fabric between her legs was warm and damp, and he slid one finger through the side and into her softness. They didn't break their kiss, but she moaned with approval as he found her most sensitive spot and stroked it in rhythm with their tongues. Drawing this pleasure from her was almost as powerful as experiencing it himself. Almost. When he gave her his blood, it would be even better.

The sound of the window opening was like a dash of cold water. The sight of Bubba stumbling through the window into their room was even worse. Fuck fuck fuck fuck FUCK.

"Miss Sookie! Mr. Eric!" he exclaimed happily. "I tracked you down."

Eric separated his lips from Sookie's and swallowed his intense anger and disappointment. Even so, his voice came out sounding strained. "Oh, good for you, Bubba."

Sookie's hand closed on his wrist and guided his hand back up to her stomach. He could smell her fluids on his hand, and it made him even more frustrated.

"Bubba, have you been here the whole time?" Sookie asked shakily. "Here in Jackson?" Her whole body was flushed with desire, and tiny beads of sweat dotted her forehead. Fuck.

"Mr. Eric told me to stick with you." Bubba sat down in a chair across from the bed and seemed in no hurry to leave them be. "You get hurt bad at that club, Miss Sookie?"

"It's a lot better now."

"I'm sorry I didn't do my job," Bubba said sadly, "but that little critter guarding the door wouldn't let me in. He didn't seem to know who I was, if you can believe that. But I saw Mr. Eric carrying you out, so I followed you."

Sookie smiled, something Eric couldn't even begin to summon the goodwill to do. "Thank you, Bubba. That was real smart."

"Miss Sookie, what you doing in bed with Mr. Eric if Bill is your boyfriend?"

Well, this interlude is now fucked up one way and down the other.

"That's a real good question, Bubba," Sookie replied as she tried – and failed – to shift herself into a more upright position.

"Jävla idiot," he swore under his breath. "I am going to give her blood, Bubba. Let me tell you what I need you to do."

"Sure."

"Since you got over the wall and into the house without being caught, I need you to search this estate. We think Bill is here somewhere. They are keeping him prisoner." If he's alive, which I doubt. "Don't try to free him. This is an order. Come back here and tell us when you have found him. If they see you, don't run. Just don't say anything. Nothing. Not about me, or Sookie, or Bill. Nothing more than, 'Hi, my name is Bubba.'"

Bubba nodded along throughout these instructions and repeated, "Hi, my name is Bubba."

"Right."

"Hi, my name is Bubba," he said again.

"Yes, that's fine," Eric replied impatiently. "Now, you sneak, and you be quiet and invisible." It was like talking to a child. A stupid child, at that. But damn it all if Bubba wasn't faithful and good at his job.

"Yes, Mr. Eric. But after that, I gotta go find me some food. I'm mighty hungry."

"Okay, Bubba. Go search now." It was much easier to feel kindness for the great idiot when he had left them alone again. He cleared his head, which was difficult with the heavy scents of blood and sex – Sookie's blood and Sookie's….. Not now. "Sookie, we could have a long argument about you taking my blood, and I know everything you would say. But the fact is, dawn is coming. I don't know if you will be allowed to stay the day here or not. I will have to find shelter, here or elsewhere. I want you strong and able to defend yourself; at least able to move quickly."

She considered this and nodded. "I know Bill is here. And no matter what we almost just did – thank God for Bubba –" How can you arch your body into my hands one minute and slap me the next? "I need to find Bill. The best time to get him out of here would be while all you vampires are asleep. Can he move at all during the daytime?"

"If he knows he is in great danger, he may be able to stagger." If he's alive. "Now I am even more sure you will need my blood, because you need strength. He will need to be covered thoroughly. You will need to take the blanket off this bed; it's thick. How will you get him out of here?"

She seemed more and more sure of herself and her plan with each passing minute. "That's where you come in. After we do this blood thing, you need to go get me a car—a car with a great big trunk, like a Lincoln or a Caddy. And you need to get the keys to me. And you'll need to sleep somewhere else. You don't want to be here when they wake up and find their prisoner is gone."

He took all this in, impressed with her ability to think so clearly at such a moment. Could it be because her feelings were now detached from Bill, or was that wishful thinking? "Sookie, where will you take him?" he asked.

"An underground place." She thought for a moment. "Hey, maybe Alcide's parking garage! That's better than being out in the open."

Only one thing left to do, then. He pulled himself up and leaned against the thick wooden headboard, spreading his legs so that she could lean back against him. Apparently she saw more than she bargained for; her cheeks flushed bright red, and she closed her eyes. He couldn't help but laugh at her primness after what they had shared only minutes before.

"Sit up with your back against my chest, Sookie," he told her. "That will make you more comfortable." He helped her accomplish this and wrapped both arms around her. Then he brought his right wrist to his mouth and bit down hard with his fangs. He offered this to her and leaned his head back. "This will cure you of everything." Except your doubts about me.

What he hadn't expected was his reaction to her drinking his blood. This wasn't like sucking out a bullet. This was Sookie feeding on his blood, holding his wrist to her mouth and drinking freely. No one had done this unless he planned to turn that person into a vampire. What small blood connection they had shared before was now being woven even more tightly. That, too, fed his pleasure. He couldn't stop himself from moaning and moving against her body; his own demanded release. The smell of sex still hung around her, and the pressure of her body against his as she fed from him was too much. Though Sookie remained very still, he could feel her arousal, and that only increased his own through their strengthening bond. Whether intentionally or not, she had eased into a rhythm of sucking his blood in time with his movements. She was enjoying this.

Finally, there was no more containing it. He pressed up against her one last time and groaned as the orgasm ripped through him. Some of the wetness seeped through his boxers and onto Sookie's lower back, but instead of separating herself from him, she sucked hard on his wrist. She wanted him, he realized with another groan, and kissed his way down her neck.

But no, she still seemed stubbornly determined to resist him. She pushed his wrist away from her mouth and said in a ragged voice, "Don't bite me."

He allowed his fangs to graze the smooth skin of her shoulder and was about to slide his hand down to give her the release that had been interrupted earlier, but she leaped away from him with almost vampiric speed. Hell, she had just had his blood. It might have been vampiric speed.

Before he could stop her, she threw open the door of the room, and there was the vampire who had agreed to provide her with clothes. He raised an eyebrow and ran his eyes over Sookie's barely-clad body with appreciation. "Well, look at you."

Wisely remembering that she had a part to play, Sookie sagged against the door frame. Eric was pleased. "You needed to talk to me?" she asked.

"Yes," the other vampire replied. "After we cut your beautiful dress off, Russell figured you'd need some clothes. I happened to have these in my closet, and since we're the same height…"

"Oh, well, thank you so much. This is very kind of you.

"You seem better," he said, studying her.

"I am very shaky… I was up because I was on my way to the bathroom."

But the vampire was no longer listening to a word she said. His eyes had found Eric, and they were filled with lust. "Leif, would you like to share my coffin today?"

"I have to run an errand for Sookie. I am not sure I'll return before daybreak but if I do…" He filled his voice with promise and let sex drip from every word. "You can be sure I'll see you out."

The young vampire glanced at Sookie, who had put on a robe from the pile of clothes she'd been given. "Yum," he said, and Eric didn't know if the compliment was for himself or Sookie. Judging from the way her body filled out the robe, he would guess the latter.

"Again, thanks," Sookie said as she indicated the robe and the clothes in her arms. "Could you tell me where the nearest bathroom is?" The vampire pointed down the hall, and Sookie excused herself quietly.

"What a treat," the vampire grinned. "Looks like you had her. Smells like it, too."

The bastard would have been dead already if this had been any other occasion. As it was, Eric smiled lazily. "I couldn't do that with my friend's girl. Besides, I wanted to save my energy for someone more to my taste." He licked his lips.

"Bernard," the vampire stuttered. "Ask for Bernard."

Eric directed as much desire as he could into his smolder. "Believe me, I will."

When he was finally left alone, Eric set about the task of finding the clothes he had so carelessly discarded the night before. Within five minutes, he was once again Leif, complete with glasses and slicked-back hair. No time to re-do the braid, though. His boxers were uncomfortably wet, but no help for that.

There was a thump from the window, followed by Bubba's ungraceful return. "I've scoped out the territory, Mr. Eric," he said proudly.

"Very good, Bubba. Is…"

Before he could finish the question, Sookie returned. She smelled fresh and lovely after her shower, and the robe really was enticing on her. His blood was already affecting her, judging by the slight glow of her skin.

"Bubba has scoped out the territory, Sookie," he told her with a slight smile.

"Miss Sookie, I found Bill!" Bubba exclaimed. "He ain't in such good shape, but he's alive."

Eric watched as she sank directly into the chair behind her, her mouth falling slightly open. He tried to read her expression, but she was a blank. He himself felt like a blank. On one hand, this was a great relief. No need to grovel and beg for Sophie-Anne's unlikely forgiveness. On the other, Bill would be back in Sookie's life. In what capacity he couldn't know, but surely she would forgive her lover, especially since his desertion wasn't his fault. In any case, he felt that he had lost her for the time being.

"Where is he?" she asked after a silence that seemed interminable.

Bubba motioned with his hands as he explained the location. "There's a big building in back of here, like a four-car garage, but it's got apartments on top of it and a room to the side."

"Are there other buildings? Could I get confused?"

As Bubba explained more about the surrounding buildings, Eric used the few seconds to pull himself together. This was why they had come. He was first and foremost a Sheriff, not a lovesick puppy. There was a job to do, for fuck's sake, and he would see it done.

"What part of the garage is he being kept in?" he asked Bubba.

"The room to the right side. I think maybe the garage used to be stables, and the room is where they kept the saddles and stuff. It isn't too big."

Eric nodded with satisfaction. "How many are in there with him?"

"They got three in there right now, Mr. Eric, two men and one woman. All three are vamps. She's the one with the knife."

And she was no doubt Lorena.

"Knife," Sookie murmured.

"Yes'm," Bubba replied grimly. "She's cut him up pretty bad."

Sookie kept her head up and seemed to be willing confidence into herself. "He'd held out this long."

Eric nodded. "He has. Sookie, I will go to get a car. I'll try to park it back there by the stables." He already knew where he would get the car; a former resident of Area 5 – a loyal subject – now lived in Jackson and had a fleet of cars. Better yet, he owed Eric several favors.

"Do you think they'll let you back in?" she asked with a frown.

"If I take Bernard with me."

"Bernard?"

He smiled in spite of himself. "The little one."

"You mean…" Then realization came to her face, and she looked a little embarrassed. "Oh, if you take Curly with you, they'll let you back in because he lives here?"

"Yes. But I may have to stay here. With him." He wondered how she would take that.

"You couldn't… uh… get out of it?"

"Maybe, maybe not," he said with a shrug. "I don't want to be caught here, rising, when they discover Bill is gone, and you with him."

Bubba had been quiet for some time, listening to their exchange, but now he spoke up again. "Miss Sookie, they'll put werewolves to guarding him during the day. Those werewolves that have been on your trail? They'll be guarding Bill when the vamps go to sleep."

Shit.

"But tonight is the full moon," Sookie pointed out. "They'll be worn out when it's their turn to take over. If they show up at all."

She never failed to impress him. "You're right, Sookie," he said with approval. "This is the best opportunity we're going to get."

"Maybe I should pretend like I'm still very weak. That way I can stay here an extra day, and it would give enough time for someone from Shreveport to come and help me."

"When I go for the car, I'll call. I want to make sure I'm far away from the mansion when I do, just in case. But you know, maybe Alcide could lend a hand tomorrow morning."

Sookie considered this, then shook her head. "I don't think we can do that, Eric. He's done so much already, and he has to work with these people all the time. It would put him in a bad spot."

"True," Eric nodded grudgingly. "Enough talk. Dawn is almost upon us, and there's much to do. I'm going to find Bernard and take him with me to get a car. Bubba, you need to leave the property and find somewhere to sleep today. A safe distance away from here, understand?" Bubba nodded. "You're lucky it was a full moon tonight. It's probably the only reason you're alive. Sookie, you'll continue to seem weak and helpless until the vampires go to their coffins. Then… somehow, you'll rescue Bill and get him into the trunk of the car I obtain. No one suspects you of anything, and no one knows who you are, so they shouldn't care if you leave." He paused, smiled, and shook his head. "This is maybe the worst plan I have ever heard."

Sookie returned his half-hearted smile with one of her own. "You got that right, but it's all we have."

"You'll do great, Miss Sookie." Bubba had the advantage of all stupid people, in that he never fully comprehended the situation he was in.

"Thank you, Bubba," said Sookie. She looked too confident for her own good… which, of course, she was.

"Sookie," Eric added, "my blood is going to make you feel more and more empowered. Don't get too carried away. That happens a lot when people take our blood. They overestimate their abilities, and they can get themselves killed. You know the stories. And my blood is potent."

They were interrupted by a knock, and Bubba took only a split-second to disappear from the window he'd entered. Sookie jumped into the bed and looked sickly, while Eric sat down beside her in the manner of a caring nurse. "Come in," he said quietly.

And there was the vampire he'd be seducing. "How is she doing?" Bernard asked. "Her color is better."

Her color wasn't just better. She was glowing. Bernard seemed about as observant as a fencepost. "Still in pain," Eric said in his most sympathetic voice, "but healing, thanks to the generosity of your king."

"He was glad to do it, but he will be… uh… best pleased if she can leave on her own tomorrow morning. He is sure by then her boyfriend will be back at his apartment after he has enjoyed the moon tonight." Bernard looked genuinely concerned, but more because he didn't want to ruin his chances with Eric. "I hope this doesn't seem too brusque?"

"No, I can understand the concern." He gave Bernard a brilliant smile. "Then I'll go get her a car and park it in the area to the rear of the house, and she can drive herself out tomorrow. If you can arrange that she'll have safe passage through the front gates – I assume they are guarded during the day?" He paused, and Bernard nodded. "I will have fulfilled my obligation to my friend Alcide."

"That sounds very reasonable." Bernard looked at Sookie and smiled. "I'll leave word at the gate when we go. My car okay?" Perfect. The young vampire was volunteering to accompany him without being asked. "It's just a little old egg-beater, but it'll get us to… where did you want to go?"

"I'll tell you when we're on the road. It's close to the home of a friend of mine. He knows a man who'll loan me the car for a day or two." Total bullshit, but Bernard had no reason to doubt it.

Eric motioned to Sookie, whose eyes were closed, and Bernard nodded and backed away politely. His blood seemed to sing in his veins as he got closer to her, and he wondered if their bond was strong enough yet for her to feel it. He kissed her cheek.

"Sookie, can you hear me?" She gave a small nod. "Good. Listen, I am going to get you a car. I'll leave the keys up here by the bed when I get back. In the morning, you need to drive out of here and back to Alcide's. Do you understand?"

Again she nodded. "Bye. Thank you," she murmured.

"My pleasure." At least part of the ordeal had been pleasurable.

Hank Danos lived in the Jackson suburb of Pearl, which gave Eric more time than he wanted with Bernard. The younger vampire was boring and tedious, but flirting was easy and cost him nothing, so he played his part with casual aplomb. Bernard never doubted him for a second. He talked with Hank alone, lest his former subject call him "Eric" or "Sheriff" in Bernard's hearing. The car was secured in under ten minutes, and he was glad to be able to drive back to Edgington's mansion alone.

He parked the white Lincoln as near as possible to the set of buildings described by Bubba, then followed Bernard back to the house. It was time to give his unwitting accomplice something for his trouble. Before they opened the door, he pushed Bernard against one of the tall white columns and kissed him for all he was worth. He had kissed men before, and he was good at it. By the time they broke off the kiss, Bernard was hard in his hand, and Eric was fairly certain he had a hickey on his neck.

"My room," Bernard said raggedly.

"I'll just say good night to Sookie and make sure she's still okay." Eric gave his best smolder. "Then I'm all yours."

He let Bernard show him where the room was, then he returned to Sookie's room, which was dark and quiet as it should be. He set the keys to the Lincoln down on the bedside table, and Sookie gave a small gasp of surprise. Improved hearing and reflexes, all from his blood.

"I'm back." He kept his voice low, since many of the vampires were probably sleeping already. "It's a white Lincoln. I parked out by the garage; there wasn't room inside, which is a real pity. They wouldn't let me get any closer to confirm what Bubba said." She hadn't opened her eyes, but he knew she was awake. "Are you hearing me?" She gave only a nod. "Good luck." He stood there in silence, waiting for some reaction, but she seemed oddly detached. "If I can disentangle myself, I'll meet you in the parking garage at first dark tonight. If you aren't there, I'll go back to Shreveport." At last her eyes opened, and she looked up at him. With Bill's return – if they succeeded – came another question, and they both knew it. "We'll talk later."

"Thanks for the car." She seemed as if she wanted to say something else, but she decided against it.

Why should he care so much about what she did or didn't say?

"I don't like having feelings." It was more to himself than to her, voiced as he turned and left her alone in the dark. In a night of various disappointments, at least something now was going his way: the sunrise was too near for Bernard to expect a fuck.

Chapter Text

As it happened, Bernard's coffin was much too small to accommodate Eric's height, so he found a place to sleep in the basement of the mansion. This made his escape much easier, especially since most of Edgington's people did not wake right at sundown. After visiting Sookie's room to make sure she was gone, he left the mansion without a hint of trouble. The Lincoln was gone. Since no one was about the grounds, he took a glance into the building where Bill had been imprisoned, and he was satisfied again. Nothing left to do but fly to the parking garage at Alcide's place to meet Sookie.

The Lincoln was easy enough to spot, especially considering that jagged metal was sticking up from the trunk. He raced to the car and ripped up what was left of the trunk. Inside lay Bill and Sookie, the latter as pale as a living human could possibly look. She was covered with her own blood.

"What are you two doing in here?" he asked Bill. Bill opened his mouth to answer, but Eric saw immediately what had happened. Sookie's paleness and Bill's healthy color were all the answer he needed. "You son of a bitch."

"It wasn't my fault, Eric."

Eric reached into the trunk and lifted Sookie, holding her close to his chest. Her heart was still beating, but she needed blood immediately. She would be dead already if she didn't have his own blood giving her strength. Without another look at Bill, he hurried to Alcide's door and banged until the Were flung it open.

"Oh, Christ," Alcide said, moving aside. "Come in, Eric. Is she…?"

"Not yet." Eric took her to the room she'd been using. "Alcide," he ordered, "grab that blanket and spread it on the bed. She's covered with blood." The Were did as he said, and Eric laid Sookie down gently. Then he bit his wrist.

"No," said Bill's voice behind him. Bill appeared at his side with bottles of TrueBlood that had been with him in the trunk. "This is better. She's had enough of your blood already."

Eric bared his fangs. "The synthetic shit isn't any good for her. She needs real blood, and she needs it now."

"But if she gets too much of ours…"

"Fine."

He licked his wrist to clean and close the wound, then stood aside as Bill sat on the bed beside Sookie and carefully poured TrueBlood down her throat. Emergency rooms and ambulances had begun keeping synthetic blood in stock, but only for… well, emergencies. Transfusions of real blood were always preferable because they went straight to the blood stream and had the advantage of being real blood. But TrueBlood had saved many lives. Hemophiliacs, in particular, liked to keep a stock at their homes.

"What the fuck were you thinking?" Eric asked as Sookie drank.

"Someone locked her in the trunk with me. It was pitch-black, I was starved out of my mind. It wasn't my fault."

"You almost—"

"I know, Eric."

When the bottle was drained, they waited a few moments. Sookie moaned and stirred, and Eric smiled with relief. "She's coming around. Maybe that was enough blood."

"She's looking much better," Alcide said, taking the empty bottle that Bill handed up to him.

Eric nodded. "She really is."

Her eyes opened slowly and then found each of them. She gave a small laugh, more of a schoolgirl's giggle, and murmured, "The Three Musketeers."

Eric frowned and looked down at Bill. "Is she hallucinating?"

"I think she's laughing at us," said the Were with a smile.

Bill took Sookie's hand and said her name quietly. She rested her eyes on him and told him in a weak voice, "They said, was I coming back for the crucifixion?"

"Who said that to you?" Bill asked.

"Guards at the gate."

"The guards at the gates of the mansion asked you if you were coming back for a crucifixion tonight? This night?"

"Yes." She was taking long, slow blinks, and each time it seemed that her heavy eyelids would stay closed.

"Whose?" Eric asked, stepping closer to her.

"Don't know."

He studied her face, which was still a little pale, and looked at the ugly wound Bill had left on her neck. It wasn't a vampire's usual clean bite; it looked rather like a dog had grabbed her by the neck and shaken her around. It suddenly struck him that Bill had probably tried to rape her. He would find out later. "I would have expected you to say, 'Where am I? What happened to me?' Not ask whose crucifixion would be taking place." He paused and noted the time. "Perhaps is taking place."

"Maybe they meant mine? Maybe they decided to kill me tonight," Bill said.

"Or perhaps they caught the fanatic who tried to stake Betty Joe. He would be a prime candidate for crucifixion." If Eric had access to him, he would be a prime candidate to have his limbs ripped off, one by one, for contributing to what happened to Sookie.

"Not the picture I got," came Sookie's voice, barely audible.

"You were able to read something from the Weres?"

She moved her head in a sort of nod. "I think they meant Bubba."

Fuck. "That cretin. They caught him?" Bubba was useful enough, but he had certainly caused his share of trouble lately.

"Think so."

Bill sighed and ran a hand through his already messy hair. "We'll have to retrieve him if he's still alive."

Going back to Edgington's mansion was not something he had planned to do – not just tonight, but for many years at least. Now Bubba's stupidity could get them killed or even start the war he had warned Sookie about.

"Eric?" Bill said, waiting for a response.

"I guess you are right," he conceded. He didn't bother masking his fury. "We have the responsibility of him. I can't believe his home state is willing to execute him! Where is their loyalty?"

"And you?" Bill asked the Were.

Eric could have told Bill Alcide's answer before he gave it. It was reasonable and pragmatic; besides, why should Alcide risk his life to save a vampire he didn't even know?

"I don't see how I can," Alcide said. "My business, my father's, depends on my being able to come here often. And if I'm on the outs with Russell and his crew, that would be almost impossible. It's going to be difficult enough when they realize Sookie must be the one who stole their prisoner."

"And killed Lorena."

Eric's eyes widened and he turned his gaze back to Sookie slowly, as if any second he would realize that he'd imagined what she said. "You offed Lorena?" He was so proud and amused he could have kissed her.

"Sookie staked her. It was a fair kill." Bill's voice was dispassionate.

He knew he was grinning in a very undignified way, but fuck that. "She killed Lorena in a fight?"

"Very short fight," Sookie said.

He could have told her that any fight between a vampire and a human was a very short fight, and that nine times out of ten, it was the vampire telling the story later.

The Were seemed overly delighted. "Sookie killed a vampire." The warning looks on the vampires' faces must have made him realize that he shouldn't sound too happy about killing their kind, so he cleared his throat and poured Sookie a glass of water.

Eric gave her a few moments to drink, then said briskly, "Back to the original subject. If Sookie has not been pegged as having helped Bill escape, she is the best choice to get us back on the grounds without setting off alarms. They might not be expecting her, but they won't turn her away, either, I'm sure. Especially if she says she has a message for Russell from the queen of Louisiana, or if she says she has something she wants to return to Russell..." He trailed off and shrugged. They got the idea.

"Flag of truce?" He looked at Sookie, who cleared her throat and went on, "Do the vampires have such a thing?"

They did, in a way, but it would require that he go to Edgington's mansion as himself and speak to the king in private. It would also mean that Sophie-Anne must be told of the situation. Both requirements meant that his ass would be on the line.

"Of course, then I'd have to explain who I am," he mused aloud. He kept the rest to himself. In his mind, this wasn't even an option.

But Sookie seemed to have moved on already. She was watching Alcide with a guarded expression, and Eric assumed she was reading the Were's mind. "Know who pushed me in the trunk and slammed it shut?" she said suddenly.

Alcide said nothing, but he left the room and shut the door. Well, he may not want to know who had tried to murder Sookie, but Eric was veryinterested. "So, who did the deed, Sookie?" he asked her.

"His ex-girlfriend," she replied. Ah. That explained it. "Not so ex, after last night," she continued grimly.

Bill looked pained at the reminder of what he'd done to her. He should be pained. "Why would she do that?"

There was no reply from Sookie, so Eric explained for her. "Sookie was represented as Alcide's new girlfriend to gain entrée to the club."

"Oh. Why did you need to go to the club?"

Again Sookie was silent, though her expression betrayed a bit of impatience. How could Bill not know why she had been there?

"She must have gotten hit on the head a few times Bill. She was trying to 'hear' where they had taken you." And, he reminded himself, a certain vampire Sheriff had pleaded with her to help save his ass.

Before Bill could reply, Sookie changed the subject cleanly and abruptly. "It's dumb to go back in there. What about a phone call?"

He backtracked his mind to Bubba's predicament and considered this easy solution. Just like a human to suggest it. No bloodshed, no kings and queens haggling over a truce. "Well," he said simply, "what a good idea."

"I'll get a phone book from Alcide," said Bill. He laid the backs of his fingers against Sookie's cheek. "And some more blood for you."

"Oh, no, please," Sookie begged. "Not anymore of that stuff. It's so gross."

"You need more. I'll see if Alcide has something I can mix it with so it won't taste as bad."

She seemed too tired to fight and said nothing as Bill left them alone. Eric stood looking at her in silence while she closed her eyes and rested. Bill returned a few minutes later with the phone, a Jackson phone book, and a mug, which he offered to Sookie. Alcide came back into the room as well, much to Eric's annoyance.

"It has apple juice in it," Bill told Sookie as he handed over the mug. "I hope it helps." While she drank, he began flipping through the phone book. "I'll just… explain the situation," he mused aloud. "Tell them who Bubba is, and…"

"No," Eric broke in sharply. "The last person who should be calling on Bubba's behalf is you. And I… They don't know who I am, really."

"Surely you don't expect Sookie to deal with them."

"As a matter of fact, yes. She saved Betty Jo's life, and now Betty Jo can return the favor. She can say…" He thought for a moment, then talked to Sookie instead of Bill. "Sookie, you can tell her that you've been kidnapped, and that your abductors want Bubba back. Explain who he really is, and I'm sure they'll release him. Can you do that for us?"

She drained the last bit of blood and apple juice – surely a hideous combination – from the mug and nodded. Evidently bored with vampire machinations, Alcide took the empty mug and returned to the kitchen. Bill gave Sookie the phone and showed her Edgington's number in the phone book. Then it was a matter of listening to her conversation and waiting to learn Bubba's fate. She handled the vampires well, he thought. A good balance of confidence and humility. They should be eating out of her hand. After a while, she tried to sit up, with Eric and Bill assisting her. She seemed to be waiting for Betty Jo to come back on the line with news. And the news was good.

"We got him down in time," he heard Betty Jo say, and Sookie confirmed with a happy, "The call came in time!"

He silently thanked whatever gods there were. "Tell them to just let him go, and he will take himself home. Tell them that we apologize for letting him stray."

He knew that Betty Jo could hear him, but Sookie repeated the instructions.

"Would you ask if he could stay and sing to us a little?" Betty Jo asked. "He's in pretty good shape."

"She wants to know if he can stay and sing for them," Sookie repeated.

Oh, for fuck's sake. "She can ask him, but if he says no, she must take it to heart and not ask him anymore. It just upsets him if he's not in the mood. And sometimes when he does sing, it brings back memories, and he gets, uh…. obstreperous." Being around Bubba during one of his howling, violent fits was not a pleasant experience.

Betty Jo agreed to this, then seemed determined to try Eric's rapidly waning patience by wanting to keep Bubba for a while. He reached for the phone, and Sookie gave it to him.

"Yes?" he said, adopting the flawless accent he had learned during his years in London.

"Would it be possible for us to keep El… er, Bubba? We'd love to have him here."

"We really don't like to do that. He's a sacred trust, and he is our responsibility."

"Oh, but we would take such good care of him!" Betty Jo pleaded.

"If he gets upset, he has to be managed firmly but gently. You don't know what you're biting off. If something were to happen to him…"

"We'll pay you. A hundred grand sound fair?"

Eric smiled. Money, not begging, was the language he understood. "Perfectly. Very well, then."

Moments after he had finished negotiating and hung up the phone, it chirped and silenced in the middle of the first ring. The Were must have been expecting a call of his own. Only a minute later, he was back in the bedroom and ordering them out and into the empty apartment next door.

As Bill lifted Sookie carefully from the bed, Eric followed Alcide from the bedroom. "Key?" he asked shortly.

"Don't have one," Alcide replied.

Eric ran ahead to fiddle with the lock. He inserted one of his credit cards into the crack between the door and frame, and carefully pushed the lock aside. Security here was a joke, then. Bill shut the door and lowered Sookie to her feet, though he kept his arms around her. The three of them stood in silence for a little while, but Eric could hear nothing yet. Alcide and his guest must be speaking in whispers.

Eric could see the small puffs of Sookie's breath in the cold air of the apartment. Bill noticed, too, because he guided her into one of the empty bedrooms and laid her on the floor, wrapping the blanket more snugly around her. He rejoined Eric, and the two of them stepped close to the wall adjoining Alcide's apartment, each pressing an ear to the cool surface.

"—with some blond slut from Louisiana, how do you expect me to react?" a woman's voice asked angrily.

Eric rolled his eyes. "What a bitch."

"And even introducing her to your sister?" the woman continued. "What the fuck was I supposed to think?"

"When did you talk to Janice, Debbie?" Alcide demanded.

"I went and saw her last night to see what's been up with you lately. And all she could talk about was Sookie this and Sookie that, how shelooooves Sookie, and I bet Sookie's shit must smell like roses to your batshit sister."

Eric grinned and glanced at Sookie. She looked bemused, and he remembered that she had no idea what was being said, so he whispered a quick summary. When he returned to the argument in the next apartment, the woman was speaking again.

"—frankly don't know what you see in her."

"If you must know, Debbie," Alcide said slowly, in a low voice, "she was the best sex I've ever had."

The rest of their petty argument meant nothing after that. Eric knew he was gaping, but there was no help for it. Surely Sookie – his Sookie – hadn't fucked the Were? Not when she was here looking for Bill, not when she had refused even his own advances? He looked at her, trying to see the truth in her face, and he found it. He was satisfied.

He couldn't say the same for the pair next door, judging by the sound of a hard slap.

"Leave us for a moment," Bill said.

Eric saw the conflicting emotions on the younger vampire's face and could have told him that there was no way in hell Sookie had slept with Alcide, but he said nothing. Better to let them sort it out, along with all the other things they had to discuss. Now was as good a time as any. Besides, Bill no longer had any claim on Sookie… unless she chose to forgive him. Without a trace of remorse, he found himself wishing that she wouldn't. Bill was waiting, so Eric nodded with feigned disinterest and left them alone.

A nagging part of his brain told him that Sookie should, and probably would, forgive Bill. The incident hadn't been Bill's fault, though he should have explained it to her instead of lying and running away. And if she cared about him…

He stood close to the wall that separated him from Alcide and his woman. He had no desire to listen to a reconciliation between Bill and Sookie. A fight between a Were and his bitch would serve his mood much better. The pair did not disappoint; they argued as if they knew they had an audience, and before long Eric found himself grinning from ear to ear.

When Sookie burst out from the bedroom some time later, it took him a moment to reorient himself from smirks and laughter to the response her stricken face called for. Before he could speak, she said quietly, "Take me home."

"Of course," he replied without hesitation. He paused for a moment, realized what she was asking, and added, "Now?"

She nodded and folded her arms across her chest as if she were trying to hold herself together inside the jacket she wore. "Yes. Alcide can drop my things by when he goes back to Baton Rouge."

He looked past her to see Bill in the other room. From the expression on his face, forgiveness and reconciliation had not been on their agenda. He returned his attention to Sookie and remembered the ripped-up trunk of the car. "Is the Lincoln drivable?" he asked.

"Oh, yes," she said, fumbling in her pocket and tossing the keys to him. "Here."

She stepped into the apartment's bare white bathroom and shut the door, while Eric went to Bill.

"Don't ask," Bill muttered just as Eric opened his mouth.

"I wasn't going to."

Bill shoved his fists into his pockets and turned away. "Is there anything I need to take care of here before I leave?"

"Speak to the Were and make absolutely certain that he and Sookie hid the dead body well. Call Sophie-Anne, just in case she has tried to contact you while you were gone. Tell her you were visiting friends in Jackson. Lorena's maker—"

"Already dead."

"Good. Tell Alcide to mention his friend Leif a few times before he leaves the city. I think that's all for now."

He and Sookie left the apartment together and rode the elevator to the parking garage in silence. As Sookie made her way to the mangled Lincoln, Eric hung back and made a quick phone call.

"Hello," said Alcide's tired voice.

"I am taking Sookie home. You will deliver her things to her next time you are nearby. You will see to it that that is soon. Am I clear?"

There was a low growl, but Alcide knew better than to cross Eric. "Perfectly."

"One more thing. You have never fucked Sookie, and you never will. Stop telling people that you have. I won't be as forgiving next time." He flipped his phone shut without waiting for a response and jogged to rejoin Sookie. "I had to give Bill a few instructions about cleaning up the mess he caused."

She still said nothing. After she'd buckled her seat belt, they were on their way. Every time he looked out the rearview mirror, he could see the dangerous torn metal of the trunk. He would have to send Hank Danos a replacement vehicle. Not that this was a particularly great car. Each time it failed to accelerate as fast as he would like, he cursed it under his breath. A smile tipped Sookie's mouth occasionally, but she sat in silence as he drove through the city and merged onto I-20.

It had been his selfish wish that she wouldn't forgive Bill, and he couldn't make himself ashamed of it, but he had to wonder why she didn't. She had done the same thing after the incident in Dallas: run away when the situation got difficult. If he had learned one thing about her, it was that she was no coward. So, then, what made her run?

"Had it occurred to you that you tend to walk away when things between you and Bill become rocky?" he asked carefully. "Not that I mind, necessarily, since I would be glad for you two to sever your association." He took his eyes off the road briefly to look at her. "But if this is the pattern you follow in your romantic attachments, I want to know now."

Of course, the difference between himself and Bill was that Bill always let her go. Had he been in Bill's place tonight, he would have followed her to the car and flown alongside it if he had to. All the way to Bon Temps. He would have fought to keep her. I won't let you run away from me, Sookie.

Her tone when she finally replied was icy. "Firstly, Eric, what happens between Bill and me is just none of your damn business."

Wrong, he thought, because he is my subject, and you are my… mine.

"Second, my relationship with Bill is the only one I've ever had, so I've never had any idea what I'm going to do even from day to day, much less establishing a policy."

Impossible that a woman like this could have been a virgin when Bill first had her. But he remembered her on that first night in Fangtasia, with her Sunday picnic dress and her Southern manners, and he knew it was true. Human men were fools, all of them.

"Third," she continued, and now her voice was weary instead of angry, "I'm through with you all. I'm tired of seeing all this sick stuff. I'm tired of having to be brave, and having to do things that scare me, and having to hang out with the bizarre and the supernatural. I am just a regular person, and I just want to date regular people. Or at least people who are breathing."

He wanted to tell her that she was too good for a "regular" man, that she was not a regular person. She was better. He wanted to tell her that he could breathe if he wanted to, even though he didn't have to. He wanted to tell her that she didn't have to be brave; she simply was. He wanted to pull over the car and finish what he had started the night before in Russell Edgington's mansion.

But he could feel what she felt, and none of these things would have helped. She felt isolated, exhausted, and betrayed. She felt used. Her eyes were pained when they met his.

"I'm listening to what you say," he said slowly. "I can tell you mean it. I've had your blood. I know your feelings." There was something else he wanted to say, but he couldn't think of a way to say it without offending her. "You are… spoiled for humans."

She understood him. "Maybe I am, though I don't see that as much of a loss, since I didn't have any luck with guys before." She sighed. "But I'd be happier with no one than I am now."

I would make you happy, he almost said. I succeed at everything I attempt, and I would do everything in my power to make you happy.

They both fell into silence. Gradually her feelings shifted into contentment, something he didn't want to disturb, even though he wanted to talk to her. It had been a long time since he'd been so interested in another person. After so many years, human lives tended to blend together and become essentially the same dull story. But he found that he was curious about Sookie's life. He wanted to learn everything he could about her. He realized with some surprise that he wanted to tell her about himself. Perhaps one day he would show her the sketches he had kept of his children, recopied many times over the centuries as paper wore away.

Noticing that the fuel light had come on, he took an exit in Arcadia. Sookie yawned and rubbed the back of her neck. "Want me to do it?" she asked, motioning to the gas pump.

"No, thank you." That she would offer, in her condition, was endearing. He watched her as she walked inside slowly, chatting with another woman who had a bad dye job.

The nozzle gave its loud thump to indicate that the tank was full, and he screwed the fuel cap back on and clicked the small door closed. He rarely paid for gas with cash, but he didn't want to use his credit card until he was back in Shreveport. He flipped through bills in his wallet as he walked towards the door, his mind wandering onto Sookie.

"Now!" someone shouted, and before he could drag his distracted mind back into the present, a silver net engulfed him.

He dropped to his knees, grinding his teeth against the burning pain. There were two of them. The larger one, who held a shotgun, walked around and bludgeoned the back of Eric's head. He fell beside the truck and cursed them in several languages.

Sookie. Fuck. With any luck, her sense of self-preservation would overcome her innate bravery and keep her out of the way as the two men robbed the convenience store. But he knew better than to rely on Sookie's sense of self-preservation. He closed his eyes for a few minutes and smelled his own blood. The pain didn't seem as bad now. He maneuvered his body until the net caught on part of their truck, then he rolled easily out. His skin was covered with burns, not to mention the blood from the wound on his head. He made his way to the opposite side of the store, where he had noticed a water spigot as he pumped the gas. The cold water would be welcome on his skin, which still felt like it was on fire.

A sound from the back of the building got his attention, and he crept around the edge slowly to find Sookie. She didn't see him, so he slipped up behind her. "Sookie," he whispered, covering her mouth with his hand so she wouldn't cry out and give them both away. "Sorry. I should have thought of a better way to let you know I was here."

She gave a slight nod and said his name against the palm of his hand. Any other time, he would have relished the feel of her lips on his skin. Now, however, he freed her mouth and stepped back a little.

"We gotta save him," she said urgently.

He cocked his head to one side and stared at her. "Why?" He couldn't imagine which of the two bastards deserved to be saved.

"Because he's getting beaten for our sakes," she replied in an exasperated voice that was almost too loud. "And they're probably gonna kill him, and it'll be our fault!"

Ah, so she meant the gas station cashier. But he didn't know how a robbery could be construed as their fault. "They're robbing the store," he explained. "They had a new vampire net, and they thought they'd try it out on me. They don't know it yet, but it didn't work. But they're just opportunistic scum." Now can we please get the fuck out of here?

"They're looking for us."

He felt a sudden wave of anger from her, so he answered her calmly. "Tell me."

"When they came in the store, they asked for me. Well, not by name, but by description. Those guys weren't just trying out a new net. They were after us, both of us. I never would have gotten out of there if the clerk hadn't lied to them and distracted them for me."

He nodded. Then the man did indeed deserve to be saved. "Give me the shotgun."

"You know how to use one of these things?" she asked, and he could have sworn he saw a smirk tease her mouth.

"Probably as well as you." He was full of shit. He hadn't the first clue how to use a shotgun.

A glint of determination lit her eyes in the dark. "That's where you're wrong."

Before he could argue with her, she ducked down and ran around to the front of the store, with him right behind her. She pointed the shotgun up in the air and fired it, falling back against him from the force of the gun and from the debris that crashed down from the ceiling of the building. She steadied herself and aimed the gun at the attackers, who had the good sense to stop beating up the already very bloodied cashier.

"Let the young man go." There was steel in her voice, and it was sexy as hell.

"You gonna shoot us, little lady?" the bigger man asked with a sneer. They still stood behind the counter, which was on a raised platform.

Sookie moved the gun to point directly at him. "You bet your ass I am."

"And if she misses, I will get you," Eric added. He bared his fangs at the two men who had had the utter stupidity to fuck with him. If he weren't making such an effort to contain himself, they both would have been dead already.

"The vampire got loose, Sonny."

Apparently the big one was Sonny. "I see that," he replied.

While the two attackers stood helplessly looking back and forth at each other, Sookie, and Eric, the cashier made his way away from them.

"I see you found my shotgun," he said to Sookie with a slight smile. He walked behind them, and Eric heard three beeps as he dialed 911 on his cell phone.

Eric laid a hand on Sookie's shoulder. "Before the police get here, Sookie, we need to find out who sent these two imbeciles." He stepped around her and glared at Sonny, who appeared to be the one in charge. "Come down here." The bastard wisely obeyed. "Stay," Eric commanded him. He studied Sonny's face and smirked a little at the coward's trembling lip. "Who sent you here?"

"One of the Hounds of Hell."

He raised his eyebrows. Those damned Weres.

"A member of the motorcycle gang," Sookie murmured.

Eric nodded and stepped even closer to Sonny. "What did they tell you to do?"

"They told us to wait along the interstate," the thug answered immediately. Perhaps he wasn't entirely stupid. "There are more fellas waiting at other gas stations."

"What were you supposed to watch for?" Eric pressed.

"A big dark guy and a tall blond guy, with a blond woman, real young, with nice tits."

Eric snarled and slammed his fist into the bridge of Sonny's nose. "You are speaking of my future lover," he hissed. "Be more respectful. Why were you looking for us?"

It seemed the Weres, at least, had connected him with Bill and Sookie, though they probably didn't know that their "tall blond guy" was Eric Northman. They had seen Leif carry Sookie from Club Dead and leave with her and the other vampires. He hoped that was the only connection they had to go on.

"We were supposed to catch you," Sonny whimpered, tentatively lifting a hand to staunch the flow of blood from his nose. "Take you back to Jackson."

"Why?"

"The gang suspected you mighta had something to do with Jerry Falcon's disappearance. They wanted to ask you some questions about it. They had someone watching some apartment building, seen you two coming out in a Lincoln, had you followed part of the way. The dark guy wasn't with you, but the woman was the right one, so we started tracking you."

Eric listened quietly during this explanation, then turned to Sookie to see if Sonny was telling him the truth. She gave a slight nod.

"Do the vampires of Jackson know anything about this plan?" he asked.

"No, the gang figured it was their problem," Sonny shrugged. "But they also got a lot of other problems, a prisoner escape and so on, and lots of people out sick. So what with one thing and another, they recruited a bunch of us to help."

Eric looked at Sookie, who had been concentrating on both attackers as Sonny answered Eric's questions. "What are these men?" he asked, knowing she would understand him. He didn't want to say too much in front of the human cashier, who doubtless knew nothing about the supernatural world around him.

"Nothing," she replied after a thoughtful pause. "They're nothing."

They're less than nothing. "We need to get out of here. We weren't here," he told Sonny sternly, indicating himself and Sookie, "this lady and myself."

"Just the boy," Sonny said, glamoured into submission.

The other attacker seemed to be under the impression that a vampire had no way of forcing him to open his eyes. Eric smiled, leaned in front of the man's face, and blew. His eyes flew open, and Eric had him under control before he could close them again. "The lady and I weren't here. Just the cashier you tried to rob." Gently, he eased the shotgun out of Sookie's hands and returned it to the young man who had saved her. "Yours, I believe."

"Thanks." The cashier leveled the gun at the attackers and carefully avoided Eric's eyes. "I know you weren't here, and I ain't saying nothing to the police."

Eric smiled. He flipped open his wallet and tossed two twenties on the counter. "For the gas," he told the young man. "Sookie, let's make tracks."

Chapter Text

They were halfway back to the Lincoln when the cashier called out to add, "A Lincoln with a big hole in the trunk does stand out!"

Eric gave the torn metal a glance, but shrugged away the concern. They were close to Bon Temps, and they wouldn't need to stop again. As they climbed into the car, he noticed that Sookie had cleaned off her bloody neck in the convenience store's bathroom. He pulled away from the pumps and turned back onto the frontage road that would reconnect them with I-20. In the rearview mirror, he saw two police cars pull into the gas station's parking lot, sirens wailing.

"He's right," Sookie said.

"I should have taken the truck," he replied easily. It was too late now, and he wasn't very concerned.

"How's your face?"

He lifted a hand to his face, which was no longer in pain. He felt the tiny bumps left behind by the net, but they were fading fast. "It's getting better," he said.

There was a moment of silence, and then she asked carefully, "What happened?"

Another police car with flashing lights sped by them on the opposite side of the median, illuminating Sookie's face in red and blue as he turned to look at her. He shifted his gaze back to the road and told her, briefly, what had happened, up until they threw the net over him.

"Your mind must have been somewhere else," she mused.

He held his gaze straight ahead. "Yes, it was." His mind had been "somewhere else" ever since she came walking into Fangtasia.

"So then what happened?" she asked.

"The heavier one hit me with the butt of his gun, and it took me a small time to recover."

"I saw the blood."

"Yes, I bled," he said, reaching back to touch the spot where the bump had been. He explained to her how he had escaped the net.

"So you got free?"

Her intonation was a prompt to continue, so he told her about going to the spigot and then finding her. He looked at her, but she seemed to have nothing to say in reply. "Tell me what happened in the store," he said at last.

"They got me confused with the other woman who went in the store at the same time I went to the ladies' room," she said. He remembered the other blond who had walked in with her. "They didn't seem to be sure I was in the store," she continued, "and the clerk was telling them that there had been only one woman, and she'd gone. I could tell he had a shotgun in his truck—you know, I heard it in his head—and I went and got it, and I disabled their truck, and I was looking for you because I figured something had happened to you."

Was she asking to get herself killed? And what kind of protector was he if he was the one who needed saving? He set his jaw. "So you planned to save me and the clerk together?"

"Well… yeah," she replied, as if nothing could be more obvious or understandable. "I didn't feel like I had a whole lot of choices there."

He said nothing. The fact that she had no choice – the fact that she had to put herself in that dangerous position – was because he himself had been careless. Even so, she would be impossible to protect if she had such a foolhardy disregard for her own safety.

They sat in silence for about fifteen minutes before Sookie spoke again. "You don't seem too happy about something."

Still he didn't answer her. He didn't know what to say. Apologize for being so distracted by her that he let two bumbling, would-be assassins throw a silver net on his head? Berate her for insisting on saving that store clerk, who was nothing to them? Another half-hour of uneasy silence stretched between them.

"Would there be something wrong with me rescuing the two of you?" Sookie pressed as they passed through Bon Temps.

Her driveway was a disgrace, with deep ruts that could wreak havoc on any car's alignment. He gritted his teeth and cursed under his breath. She was looking at him expectantly, and he knew he couldn't avoid answering her any longer.

"Yes, there is something wrong with that," he told her, though his pride would not allow him to elaborate. He turned off the car. "And why the hell don't you get your driveway fixed?" Oh, well done. Take your anger out on her.

She flung open her car door, and he followed suit. For a moment they stared at each other over the top of the car, then she walked around it to face him, her eyes blazing. They were also tearing up, and he felt immediately sorry.

"Because I can't afford it, that's why!" she said, on the verge of hysteria. "I don't have any money! And you all keep asking me to take time off from my job to do stuff for you! I can't! I can't do it anymore! I quit!"

If only they were fully bonded by blood, he could calm her. If she didn't look so willing to stake him at this moment, he could pull her into his arms and comfort her. He mentioned Bill's name carefully, but that certainly didn't help.

Her eyes narrowed as waves of anger rolled off of her. "He's spending all his money on the freaking Bellefleurs. He never thinks about giving me money." She raised her chin and met his eyes defiantly. "And how could I take it? It would make me a kept woman, and I'm not his whore. I'm his…" Her voice broke. "I used to be his girlfriend." Alone, alone, alone, her blood cried to him, and it was physically painful.

Why couldn't she see that accepting a lover's gift did not make her a whore? If she were his, he would cherish her and shower her with gifts, not as some kind of vulgar payment, but because it would give him pleasure. No doubt Bill was the same. Before he could express this out loud, she had moved on to another subject.

"Where do you get off, telling them that I'm your… your lover?" She flushed pink. "Where'd that come from?"

That topic was not up for discussion at the moment. He answered her in what he hoped was a quiet, calming voice. "What happened to the money you earned in Dallas?"

A tear escaped the corner of her eye, but she seemed not to notice. "I paid my property taxes with it."

He regarded her with a mixture of surprise and swelling affection. "Did you ever think," he said slowly, "that if you told me where Bill's hiding his computer program, I would give you anything you asked for?" I would do that anyway, if you would let me. "Did you not realize that Russell would have paid you handsomely?" She puffed up with righteous indignation, and he smiled down at her. "I see you didn't think of those things."

"Oh, yeah, I'm just an angel," she snapped. "Someone's waiting in my house, Eric."

She walked away from him and reached under an old rocking chair on the porch, while he stood there dumbly, his mind unable to settle on any one thing. But then realization slapped him in the face and jarred him to attention.

"Sookie!" he shouted, already running toward her.

But it was too late. She unlocked the door and someone inside the dark house knocked her out with an object he couldn't make out. He growled, his fangs extending, as she slumped to the ground. He ran towards the house, but he was stopped by the sharp, pinching pain of two bullets as they tore into his leg and chest. Cursing, he ran for the cover of the trees and pulled out his cell phone.

"Master?" Pam answered. "Are you b—"

"Pam, who's near Bon Temps? I need to know now."

She recognized his tone and didn't fuck around. "Well, Bill is. He called a little while ago to see if you were back here. I think he's going straight to Sookie's. Might be there already."

Perfect. Pam wouldn't be offended that he hung up on her, not that it mattered. He shut his phone and shoved it into his pocket. The bullets had fallen out of him, and his wounds were beginning to heal. Bill appeared at his side just as he crept to the dark porch. They nodded at each other, and then Eric threw open the door.

With a roar, he grabbed the first person he saw and ripped the man's throat out. There would be no mercy for any of these fuckers. In a blind rage, he tore apart several more bodies, hardly sparing a glance at their faces. Bill was just as vicious, and their work was accomplished in no time. He was surprised at himself for thinking with relief that this part of Sookie's house wasn't carpeted.

They both rushed to her. She was covered in blood. "Sookie?" he said anxiously. "Sookie?" He pressed his fingers to her wrist. "Do we need to take her to the hospital?" He could detect no feeling – nothing – from her.

Bill felt for the pulse in her neck and looked visibly relieved. "Her pulse is strong. I'm going to turn her over."

He sent a silent prayer to gods who probably didn't exist. "She's alive?"

"Yes."

Eric leaned closer, trying to see her face. "Is the blood hers?" He couldn't see any injuries, and with all the blood spilt around them, it was hard to isolate her pure, sweet scent.

"Yes, some of it," Bill replied as he indicated one nasty cut on her cheek.

He inhaled her scent and relished it. "Hers is different." Nothing like the filth that he could still taste on his tongue.

"Yes, but surely you are full by now."

Even if he drank the blood of every person in Shreveport, he would be hungry for Sookie's blood, but there were things to be done now. He stood up and surveyed the damage they'd done. "It's been a long time since I had real blood in quantity," he remarked.

"For me, too," Bill replied as he prepared to move Sookie. "We'll need to put them all out in the yard and clean up Sookie's house."

"Of course."

He sat beside her, his back to the sofa, as Bill turned her over. Her tears echoed what her blood told him: pain. She looked at each of them in turn, blinking back the tears to see them clearly. What they had done to her attackers wasn't nearly as bad as the fuckers deserved.

"Can you speak?" he asked her gently.

She opened her mouth to answer him, then shook her head.

"She needs a drink," Bill observed, leaving her side to fetch one.

Strands of her hair were plastered with sweat and blood to her face, and he carefully brushed them away. He kept his fingertips light on her bruised skin and masked the rage he felt. Her body ravaged twice in one night – first by her own lover, then by the Weres. If Bill weren't here in the way, he would have given her more of his blood. He wouldn't be surprised if she never wanted to see another vampire again after a night like this one.

Bill returned to her side and lifted her up slightly so she could drink her water.

When she could speak, she said hoarsely, "You killed them all." Eric answered her with a nod, wondering how she would react to the bloody massacre in her own house. But her voice was stronger as she replied with a firm, "Good," and he was unable to hold back a brief smile. "How many?" she asked.

He and Bill looked around the room, though it was hard to tell with so many bodies – and so many pieces – in the dark.

"Seven?" Bill suggested. "Two in the yard and five in the house?"

Eric didn't know how many runners Bill had chased into the yard and killed, but there were definitely six in the house. "I was thinking eight," he said.

Bill turned back to Sookie. "Why did they come after you like that?"

She took another sip of her water through the straw. It was almost gone now. "Jerry Falcon," she said.

"Oh. Oh, yes. I've encountered him," Bill told them, and his face was as dark as Eric had ever seen it. "In the torture room. He is first on my list."

Eric smiled grimly. "Well, you can cross him off. Alcide and Sookie disposed of his body in the woods yesterday."

Yesterday seemed like a week ago. Since they had dumped the body of Jerry Falcon, Sookie had been staked and healed, they had almost had sex, he had given her blood, she had rescued Bill and then had been attacked (and raped?) by him in the trunk of a car, they had escaped the gas station, and now this. It was almost unrelenting enough to be farcical.

"Did this Alcide kill him, or Sookie?" Bill asked, drawing Eric's attention back to the present.

"He says no," Eric explained. "They found the corpse in the closet of Alcide's apartment, and they hatched a plan to hide his remains."

Bill blinked in disbelief. "My Sookie hid a corpse?"

"I don't think you can be too sure about that possessive pronoun," Eric told him. He didn't bother masking his fury at Bill. But there would be another time for that discussion.

"Where did you learn that term, Northman?"

I was speaking this language centuries before you were born, asshole. "I took English as a Second Language at a community college in the seventies," he said instead, casually. He had taken the course, that much was true.

"She is mine," Bill said in a low voice, and Eric saw a flash of fang.

To Eric's surprise and utter delight, Sookie flipped off Bill. With both hands. He laughed loudly and tried to decide what gave him more pleasure: the actual gesture or Bill's horrified exclamation, "Sookie!"

He had enjoyed the laugh, but it was time to be serious again. "I think that Sookie is telling us she belongs to herself." He looked down at her with increased affection, then back up at Bill as he explained his theory that Jerry Falcon's murder was meant to be blamed on Alcide.

"So all this plot might be directed at Alcide instead of us?" Bill asked, frowning as he tried to make sense of it.

"Hard to say," Eric admitted. "Evidently, from what the armed robbers at the gas station told us, what's remaining of the gang called in all the thugs they knew and stationed them along the interstate to intercept us on the way back. If they'd just called ahead, they wouldn't now be in jail for armed robbery. And I'm certainly sure that's where they are."

Bill surveyed the blood mess around them. "So how'd these guys get here?" he asked. "How'd they know where Sookie lived, who she really was?"

The realization came to Eric as he spoke the words. "She used her own name at Club Dead." He met Bill's eyes. "They didn't know the name of Bill's human girlfriend… You were faithful."

But Bill, ever the noble martyr, refused to accept an acknowledgment. "I hadn't been faithful in other ways. I thought it was the least I could do for her."

"So the Weres may not know she was your girlfriend," Eric continued, thinking as he went. "They only know she was staying in the apartment with Alcide when Jerry disappeared." He added that none of the pack, including the pack leader, believed that Alcide had done the killing.

"This Alcide," Bill said thoughtfully, "he seemed to have a troubled relationship with his girlfriend."

"She is engaged to someone else. She believes he is attached to Sookie." It was appropriate that a Were would have a bitch for a girlfriend.

"And is he?" Bill asked. He looked as if he didn't really want to know the answer. "He has the gall to tell this virago Debbie that Sookie is good in bed."

"He wanted to make her jealous. He has not slept with Sookie." This he knew as certainly as he knew his own name.

"But he likes her."

Eric smiled a little. "Doesn't everyone?"

"You just killed a bunch of guys who didn't seem to like me at all," Sookie interjected. "Bill, how'd you get here?"

Bill told them that he had made a deal with Edgington – a smart move – and that his car had been returned to him. The Weres had used the internet to discover where Sookie lived.

Eric shook his head. "These computers are dangerous things." He enjoyed the new technologies as much as any other vampire, but the old ways had definitely been less complicated and worrisome.

"Her face is swelling," Bill observed.

He was right; just in the past few minutes, her cheekbone had turned an ugly purple, and bruises were rising up all over her face. He could only imagine what shape the rest of her was in.

"Eric okay?" she asked in a weak voice.

He reached down again to smooth her hair with his fingertips, touched that she cared. "I will heal," he assured her, "especially since having all that good blood." Her eyes drifted shut. "Sookie?" he murmured.

"Good," said Bill. "She's out. Help me get her into bed."

"I will. Just a minute." He called Fangtasia again and told Pam to send some workers to Sookie's house with cleaning supplies. Pam knew exactly what "cleaning supplies" were.

Bill lifted Sookie into his arms and followed Eric, who kicked bodies and other debris out of the way. He flipped on lights as he went, until they were both in Sookie's room. Though Bill didn't look especially pleased about it, they worked together to remove her bloody clothes, sponge the blood off of her skin, and slip a soft nightgown over her body, which was just as bruised and swollen as her face. Eric pulled back the covers of her bed, then brought them up under her chin after Bill had laid her down. Bill tucked the covers securely around her, and they both found themselves staring silently down at her.

"We better start cleaning up," Bill said at last.

They worked quietly as they removed the bodies and set them outside. Other than a rug, nothing appeared to be ruined or permanently stained. The Fangtasia workers arrived shortly after, and Eric pointed into the house without a word. He and Bill were left alone on the porch.

"Did you rape her?" Eric asked. "In the car."

A long silence. "Yes."

The hard punch in his jaw sent Bill staggering back, but he didn't utter a word of protest. Eric crossed his arms and stared straight ahead. "Go home. I'll see that the mess is taken care of."

His crew were fast and thorough, the benefits of much experience, and an hour later he was on his way back to Fangtasia. Dawn was very near, but he had one more item of business. He would make the phone call and then sleep in the emergency space below his office. The Shreveport phone book didn't include Bon Temps, so he opened his laptop and found the number he needed.

"Randy Burgess," said the man in an annoyed growl.

"Eric Northman. You get something to write with, Randy. I want you to fix Sookie Stackhouse's drive, and I want it done first thing tomorrow. I don't care what orders you have waiting. Am I clear?"

He had hired Randy Burgess before, so the man knew better than to question anything he said. "Y-yes, sir."

"Use the most expensive kind you have, do the whole drive, and make it beautiful. I don't care what it costs. Throw in whatever extras you like, and bill me. Are you writing all this down?"

He could hear the raspy whisper of a pencil on the other end of the line. "Got it," Randy said.

"Don't knock on her door. She's ill, and I don't want her to be disturbed. That will be all."

"I'll take care of everything to your satisfaction, Mr. Northman." Randy was clearly awake now. The promise of money tended to have that effect.

* * *

When he rose the next night, Pam was already in his office. "Finally!" she exclaimed. "Tell me everything that happened."

He obliged her, then chased away her satisfied grin with her orders for the night. "Go to Sookie's house. She may have been able to wash up and take care of herself today, but I doubt it. She could use another woman to help her."

Pam gaped. "You want me to play nurse maid to a human?" He didn't need to reply, because his face told her everything. She knew that look. "I will, Master. Anything else?"

"Bill and I will be there at seven. Make sure she knows we're coming."

He arrived when he said he would, surprised when Bubba answered the door. Sookie was sitting on an ottoman, wearing pink pajamas with a matching robe and slippers. The swelling on her face had gone down a little, but not enough to satisfy him. Bill sat on the chair behind her and was brushing her hair while Pam watched with amusement. He imagined himself in Bill's place, caring for her in this oddly intimate way, and he discovered that he was jealous. It was an emotion he barely remembered.

After Bubba wished them all a good night and left, Eric turned to Pam. "What was he doing here?"

It was Sookie who answered. "Bubba's the one who killed Jerry Falcon." He listened with satisfaction as Sookie explained what had happened, and Pam laughed when the story ended.

"That he followed you to Jackson," she said in wonder, "when his instructions were just for here, for one night... that he kept following his instructions, no matter what! It's not very vampiric, but he's certainly a good soldier."

Eric had to agree, even though Bubba's good soldiering had interrupted their happy interlude two nights before. "It would have been much better if he'd told Sookie what he'd done and why he'd done it."

Sookie rolled her eyes. "Yes, a note would have been nice. Anything would have been better than opening that closet and finding the body stuffed in there."

Pam laughed again. "I can just see your face! You and the Were had to hide the body? That's priceless."

"I wish I'd known all this when Alcide was here today." Sookie closed her eyes and leaned her head back while Eric and Bill both absorbed this information.

"Alcide Herveaux came here?" Eric asked at last, fully aware that he was taking the bait.

"Yeah, he brought my bag," she said. "He stayed to help me out, seeing as how I'm banged up."

Bill had stopped his ministrations on her hair, and Eric caught Sookie smiling at Pam. He also caught Pam's wink. So this would be their punishment, then, his and Bill's. Enduring whatever these two females decided to say.

It was Pam who opened the fun and games. "I unpacked your bag for you, Sookie. Where did you get that beautiful velvet shawl thing?"

"Well, my first evening wrap got ruined at Club – I mean, at Josephine's," Sookie explained. Again she smiled. "Alcide very kindly went shopping and bought it to surprise me. He said he felt responsible for the first one getting burned."

Eric gritted his teeth, determined to say nothing. The Were gave her a shawl. He had given her a new driveway… about which she had so far said nothing.

"He has excellent taste for a Were. If I borrow your red dress, can I borrow the shawl, too?" Pam would pay for this later. She must be counting on it.

"Sure," Sookie replied in a voice that was much too perky for her condition.

"Isn't it nice to get gifts from men?" Pam sighed. "Especially handsome men." Sookie giggled but said nothing. Pam seemed to realize that there was no more fun to be had here, so she stood up abruptly and announced, "I think I'll run home through the woods. I feel like experiencing the night."

Sookie's eyes widened. "You'll run all the way back to Shreveport?"

"It won't be the first time," Pam replied with a shrug. She took a few steps, then turned around again. "Oh, by the way, Bill, the queen called Fangtasia this evening to find out why you are late with her little job. She had been unable to reach you at your home for several nights, she said."

"I will call her back later from my place," Bill said. He had returned to brushing Sookie's hair, and Eric wondered how much more he could brush before it started falling out of her head. "She'll be glad to hear that I've completed it."

During the exchange between Pam and Bill, Eric had been clenching and unclenching his fists. At last, his temper got the better of him. "You nearly lost everything," he said to Bill in a growl. Everything being Sookie, his mind added, seemingly of its own accord, and it only made him angrier.

Pam wisely left, and Sookie looked uneasy.

Bill glared at him. "Yes, I'm well aware of that."

"You were a fool to take up with that she-demon again."

"Hey, guys," Sookie said, waving a hand between them, "I'm sitting right here." No thanks to him, Eric thought. He wasn't going to back down, not now, and from the looks of it, neither was Bill. Sookie stood up. "Okay, I'd hoped to avoid this, but…" She turned to Bill. "Bill, I rescind your invitation into my house."

Eric smiled with real happiness as Bill's feet walked him backwards out of the room. Sookie had chosen, and she was choosing him – the one who had been beside her every step of the way.

Then she looked at him and said his name in that same tone, and he knew that he was wrong. She was rejecting both of them. Just as she had told him in the car, she wanted no more part in what they had brought to her life. And how could she be blamed? He barely heard her speak the words when the irresistible force began to compel him backwards. She regarded them for a second, side-by-side on her porch, then closed the door in their faces.

"Now we've both lost her," Bill said.

Eric turned away from the door and looked out over the brand-new driveway. He had told himself that he wouldn't let her run from him, and he meant it. Whatever was left of his heart, it wanted her, and it wouldn't be refused.

"I haven't," he said, and he took to the air.

Chapter Text

"One of Hallow's girls is here to see you."

Eric looked around the door of the closet in his office to see Pam standing by his desk, her arms folded across her chest. He wore jeans, but he was barefoot, and the shirt he'd selected now dangled in his hand. It was New Year's Eve, always one of Fangtasia's busiest nights, when humans celebrated another year of life and vampires celebrated another year without it. The bar was covered with "Begin Your New Year with a Bite!" banners. He certainly didn't have time for more of Hallow's shit.

She had shown up a few nights ago, demanding half of his business, and he had no idea how he could get around it. Together with Pam and Chow, he had considered the options: in short, they had none. Her threats of sabotaging the club with her witchcraft were nothing to take lightly; either way, it seemed, he would lose a great deal of money. It had been the only thing on his mind lately.

He exhaled an impatient curse. "Show her in," he said. He tossed the shirt aside.

The young witch stepped into his office, followed by Pam and Chow. She looked around for a moment and took a seat. The three vampires leaned back against Eric's desk. Though they must have looked intimidating to any other person, the witch seemed nonplussed.

"Speak," Eric said. If he would be forced to humble himself to a mere lackey, he would at least start the meeting with the upper hand.

"I come to offer you a deal on Hallow's behalf," she said calmly.

Eric cast a brief glance at his partners. This was unexpected. "Continue."

"My mistress says that if Mr. Northman agrees to… entertain her for seven nights, we will satisfy ourselves with a fifth of your profits." She gave them a serene smile. "I think you will agree that this is a good offer, one that requires much less sacrifice on your part."

"No."

Silence blanketed the office, and for a few seconds, Eric didn't realize that he was the one who had given such a ridiculous answer. Pam's mouth hung open in disbelief. No? In his mind he saw Sookie's face and knew that he had, indeed, refused Hallow's generous – if insulting – offer.

The witch still looked calm. "No?" she repeated, as if she were a teacher talking to a child who had given the wrong answer in school.

"I am no whore," he said in a low voice. "Especially not for a witch."

"Eric, we aren't going to get a better offer than this," Pam said. She spoke quietly, well aware that she was on dangerous ground.

Chow had no such qualms. "We're talking millions of dollars!" he exclaimed angrily.

Every sensible, pragmatic part of his mind was now in open rebellion with whatever part of him repeated No like a mantra. "Even if I do this thing," he said, "what is to stop the witch from changing her terms in the future?"

"We can deal with that problem later, if and when it arises." Pam was still looking at him with complete bewilderment on her face. "Master, I don't understand why you refuse this offer."

Neither do I, he wanted to tell her.

The witch rose. Her smile twisted into a smirk as she faced them. "I see that you vampires guard your virtue like a precious gift," she taunted. "My mistress will be so disappointed to learn that the famous Eric Northman is, in fact, a prude. We look forward to owning half of your little business venture."

Eric's fangs ran out, and he growled low in his throat, but it was Chow who leapt at the witch.

* * *

He didn't know what force compelled him to run in the direction he did; he didn't know his own name. He knew only cold, the sting of gravel on the soles of his feet as he ran, and the fact that something nameless clutched at him from the inside and pulled him towards it. The desperation and pain of it would have crippled him if it didn't also demand that he run to it, like a man who flings himself onto spikes because he has to, he wants to, he must.

A car pulled up alongside him, its lights illuminating the road for some distance ahead. "Can I help you?" asked a female voice.

The moment he looked at her face, the pain in his chest swelled almost unbearably, and it drove him even harder. He continued running straight ahead. Behind him, a car door slammed shut and the woman's voice called, "Eric, it's me!"

Was the pain on her account, then? He would kill her, rip her limb from limb. I am vampire, he realized as his fangs extended. He whirled around to face her in an attack stance, baring his fangs at her. And then, just as suddenly and inexplicably as it had come upon him, the compulsion – the pain – vanished, leaving only emptiness in its wake. Somehow the emptiness was worse.

He regarded her for a moment as she stood some yards away. She was frightened. She was also confused. He knew these things as if they were his own feelings. Perhaps they were his own feelings.

"Stay back, woman."

She obeyed him. "What are you doing out here?" she asked.

What kind of creature controls a vampire with agonizing need, only to drown everything in an ocean of nothing? She didn't look supernatural, though she did smell good. He relaxed somewhat.

"Who are you?" he asked her.

"You know darn good and well who I am," she replied. "What's up with you? Why are you out here without your car?"

No, he had no idea who she was. As much as he wanted to know the answer to that question, he was much more interested in the fact that she seemed to know him. She had called him Eric a moment ago, though he didn't know that name.

"You know me? Who am I?"

"Of course I know you, Eric," she said, using the name again. Wouldn't he know if that were his name? "Unless you have an identical twin. You don't, right?"

Siblings, yes, long ago. He couldn't remember them, but he felt that it was so. But they must be gone, unless they were vampires as well. "I don't know," he told her. He straightened to his full height and felt his fangs retracting. The woman relaxed as well; he both saw and felt it.

"You don't know if you have a brother?"

"No, I don't know." He suddenly feared that she would run away from him, taking with her the knowledge of who he was. Until the veil lifted, she was his only anchor. "Eric is my name?" he asked uncertainly.

"Wow," she said. She was shivering in the cold. "Eric Northman is the name you go by these days. Why are you out here?"

He looked around at the dark road, lit only by the beams of her headlights. In both directions he saw only blackness. All he knew was right here, in this patch of yellow light. "I don't know that, either."

"For real?" she asked. "You don't remember anything?"

"For real." The words tasted strange in his mouth, an idiom that he must have learned at some point long ago. He took one tentative step in her direction.

"You know you're a vampire, right?"

That he did know. The teeth… the fact that he didn't breathe… "Yes," he nodded. "And you are not."

"No, I'm real human, and I have to know you won't hurt me." She looked at him for a moment. "Though you could have by now. But believe me, even if you don't remember it, we're sort of friends."

Even if they hadn't been friends before, she was his only friend now, and he needed her. He met her eyes. "I won't hurt you." Somehow he felt that even if he wanted to, he wouldn't be able to.

She hugged her arms around herself, still shivering. "Come get in my car before you freeze."

"I do know you?" he asked after a moment's hesitation.

He sensed her annoyance as if it were carried in his own blood. "Yes," she said. "Now come on, Eric. I'm freezing, and so are you." She ran her eyes from his face to his feet. "Oh my God, Eric, you're barefoot."

All traces of apprehension evidently gone, she walked right up to him and took his hand. The warmth of her skin felt comforting against his palm, and he followed her to the car. She opened the door and motioned for him to sit, which he did.

"Roll up your window," she said, pointing to a handle on the side of the door before she closed it. He stared at it for a moment, then did as she said.

She opened a door on the opposite side of the car and joined him inside. Every time she exhaled, he could see it, a little puff of air that vanished in wisps, and it fascinated him. From behind their seats she withdrew a worn blanket and spread it over him, tucking it behind his shoulders. Then she turned a couple of dials in front of her, and warm air blew out towards them.

They drove for a minute or two when he realized with some surprise that she was feeling lust. A second later, she laughed, and he looked at her with confused interest.

"You're the last person I expected to see," she said by way of explanation. Perhaps she wasn't aware that he had sensed her sexual thoughts. These were usually private, after all. "Were you coming out this way to see Bill?" she asked. "Because he's gone."

That name meant nothing to him. "Bill?"

"The vampire who lives out here?" she prompted. "My ex-boyfriend?"

He wasn't happy about another vampire living near here. If they were enemies, and this second vampire attacked him in this vulnerable state… He answered her with an uneasy shake of his head.

"You don't know how you came to be here?" she asked again.

Again he shook his head. He had already told her he didn't know. Why didn't she believe him?

They sat in silence as she drove the rest of the way to a pretty white house. "Here we are," she said. She parked her car and turned it off. There were lights outside the house, but even so, the woods surrounding them looked dark and ominous. This woman should not live here alone.

"This is where you live?" he asked her.

"Yes." She must have seen the doubt in his face because she added impatiently, "Oh, come on."

She got out of the car, and he followed her example, though he stood close to the vehicle and wrapped the blanket fully around himself as she climbed up the steps to her porch. Reassured by the warm light he saw when she pushed open the door, he joined her on the porch.

"You can come in," she said as she walked in, and he followed her. She closed the door behind him and looked him over. "Oh, Eric."

He felt her pity. It should have shamed him – a human pitying a vampire – but it didn't.

As he watched each of her movements, she found a large pan and set it in the sink under running water. It took a minute, but eventually steam began to rise up from the water. When the pan was full, she turned off the water and set the pan on the table. She turned to him again and pointed to his jeans.

"Pull them off."

He did as she told him, kicking the dirty jeans aside and quickly pulling the blanket back around himself. Again he felt lust from her, and he realized that he must be the object. Were they more than friends, he and this woman? She pointed at one of the chairs. He sat obediently and watched her as she set the pan down and moved his feet into the hot water. It felt better than anything he could remember feeling, and he let out an appreciative groan. The woman fetched soap and a cloth, then returned to him and washed his feet. Her hands were soft and gentle… loving, even, though he wasn't certain what that meant. He suddenly felt very protective of her.

"You were out in the night," he said.

"I was coming home from work," she explained, lifting one wet hand to point at the logo on her shirt, "as you can see from my clothes."

"Women shouldn't be out alone this late at night."

She smiled. "Tell me about it."

Surely someone in this woman's life had cared about her enough to explain the dangers? If they hadn't, he would. "Well," he began, "women are more liable to be overwhelmed by an attack than men, so they should be more protected--"

"No, I didn't mean literally," she interrupted, looking up at him with another smile. "I meant, I agree. You're preaching to the choir. I didn't want to be working this late at night."

He didn't understand which choir he was preaching to, but he was confused about too many other things to ask. "Then why were you out?" he pressed.

"I need the money." She dried one of her hands on the white cloth she'd draped over her knee, and withdrew some money from her pocket. She tossed it carelessly on the table. "I got this house to maintain," she continued, "my car is old, and I have taxes and insurance to pay, like everyone else."

It angered him that no one saw fit to take care of someone so beautiful and good. His life was a blank to him, but he felt sure that such goodness was not the general rule among humans… or his own kind, for that matter.

"Is there no man in your family?" he asked her.

"I have a brother," she said. She turned one of his feet and traced her finger gently down a long, deep cut. "I can't remember if you've ever met Jason."

He couldn't remember, either. He watched as she took the pan back to the sink and added more water. She began to clean the deep cut with the washcloth, and he winced.

"Your brother permits you to do this working?" he asked through gritted teeth.

She frowned up at him. What had he done wrong? "Oh, for goodness sake, Eric, Jason's got his own problems."

Caring for his sister was evidently not one of them.

She dried his feet and stood, pressing one hand to the small of her back. She was tired. Perhaps he could stay here and care for her. They needed each other, after all, and he had nowhere to go.

"Listen, I think what I better do is call Pam," she said. "She'll probably know what's going on with you."

He tried to place the name, but it was no use. "Pam?"

"Your second-in-command," she explained. Was he a person of importance? He was about to ask her when she held up her hand to stop him. "Just hold on. Let me call her and find out what's happening."

Under the circumstances, he trusted nothing and no one. No one but this woman, whose presence was increasingly natural and calming. He knew nothing of any Pam. "But what if she has turned against me?" he pointed out.

"Then we need to know that, too. The sooner the better."

He sat quietly as she made the phone call. He could hear both ends of the conversation. She had heated a TrueBlood for him, and he drank it gratefully as he listened. From the sound of it, his second-in-command, this Pam, was loyal to him and worried about him. He wanted to believe it, but he wouldn't trust it yet. The woman referred to him as mentally damaged, which stung, even though he could hardly deny it. The woman also promised to keep him tonight, and he was flooded with relief. If she let him stay, he could talk to her about his plan to stay and take care of her.

"You get over here at nightfall, you hear me?" the woman was saying. "I don't want to get tangled up in your vampire shit again."

That didn't sound promising. He wondered if he was the cause of her anger at his kind. She hung up the phone and fixed her eyes on his.

"Okay," she said, "here's the deal. You stay here the rest of the night and tomorrow, and then Pam and them'll come get you tomorrow night and let you know what's happening."

He didn't especially want to see "Pam and them," or anyone else for that matter, until he could figure out what had happened to him. At least he would be safe tonight. "You won't let anyone get in?" he asked her.

Her voice was kind when she answered him. "Eric, I'll do my best to keep you safe." She slid her hands down her face and looked at him again from under heavy eyelids. Tired, his blood said, and he had to remind himself that it was her, even though he felt the same. She took his hand as she had earlier, and this time he held onto it more tightly.

He followed her into a warm and comfortable room that smelled strongly of her. Quietly, he stood to the side and watched as she opened a closet, moved some boxes, and lifted a carpet that cleverly disguised a trapdoor. "This is where you can sleep," she said. "When I get up, I'll put the stuff back in the closet so it'll look natural." She smiled at him.

The hole in the closet looked dark and cold, and he found himself unwilling to leave her. She was all he had at the moment. It was too soon to give her up. "Do I have to get in now?" he asked.

She hesitated. "No," she said slowly. "You don't have to. Just get in before sunrise." She frowned and looked worried for a moment. "There's no way you could miss that, right? I mean, you couldn't fall asleep and wake up in the sun?"

Something instinctual told him the answer. "No, I know that can't happen," he told her. "Can I stay in the room with you?"

After a small giggle, which effectively abolished any sense of pride he may have had left, she sighed, "Come on."

Her room felt familiar, but he had no idea why. Perhaps it was the strong scent of her. He sat and watched her every move until she slipped into the bathroom with a bundle of clothes. Apart from running water, he heard nothing. She emerged a short while later in a nightgown that looked as soft and inviting as anything he'd ever seen. Before she got into the bed, she let her hair down, and it fell around her shoulders in beautiful waves.

Without waiting for an invitation, he joined her in the bed. He longed to touch her, to curl himself around her comforting warmth, but he did not. It struck him then that with all the strange names he had heard that evening, including his own, he did not know hers.

"Woman?" he asked quietly. She gave a short murmur in reply. "What's your name?"

"Sookie," she said. "Sookie Stackhouse."

Pam, Chow, Jason, Bill… those names meant nothing. Even "Eric" carried little meaning. Her name was the only one he could associate with someone real and tangible, and he clung to it. "Thank you, Sookie."

"Welcome, Eric."

Eric. When she said it, it sounded true.

To his surprise, she felt under the covers for his hand, and he slid his fingers through hers as their palms met.

* * *

When he awoke the following night, he heard voices. One was Sookie's, the other a male. He pushed up the trapdoor slightly, reached up to slide over the items that Sookie had stacked on top, and then opened the door fully to climb out. Looking down, he realized that he still wore only his red underwear – hardly appropriate if he was about to meet a guest of Sookie's. He looked around the small bedroom and found a brown bathrobe laid out on the bed. It was a little short, but it would serve. He pulled it on and crept cautiously towards the voices. They were talking about him.

"What kind of clothes?" the male voice asked.

"Work clothes," Sookie replied.

"Anybody I know?"

Eric stepped in, holding the bathrobe closed around himself. "Me."

The man stared at him for a moment, then looked at Sookie. "This is your newest man, Sookie?" he asked. "You didn't let any grass grow under your feet. And I need to get him clothes?"

Eric didn't like the way this man spoke to Sookie, as if she were a common slut. But he said nothing. The man did bear a resemblance to her, and he wondered if this was the brother.

"Yes," Sookie told the visitor. "His shirt got torn last night, and his blue jeans are still dirty."

The man looked at Eric again. "You going to introduce me?"

"Better not," she said.

That stung; mentally damaged he may be, but he was nothing to be ashamed of. He extended his hand to the visitor. "Eric," he said simply. What else could he say? That was all he knew.

"Jason Stackhouse, this rude lady's brother." So he had been right about the resemblance, he thought as Jason accepted his handshake. This was the man who didn't pay enough attention to his sister's care and safety. "I'm assuming there's a reason why you two can't go out to buy him more clothes."

Sookie tucked some hair behind her ear and looked at her brother sternly. "There's a good reason, and there's about twenty good reasons you should forget you ever saw this guy."

Eric opened his mouth to protest, but Jason spoke first. "Are you in danger?" he asked her.

"Not yet," she replied, casting a wary glance at Eric.

Jason took a step closer to him. Eric almost backed away before he realized that he was a good deal taller and stronger than this human man could ever be.

"If you do something that gets my sister hurt," Jason said in a low voice, "you'll be in a world of trouble."

Perhaps he had been wrong; perhaps this man did care about his sister. But not enough. Eric nodded. "I would expect nothing less. But since you are being blunt with me, I'll be blunt with you. I think you should support her and take her into your household, so she would be better protected."

Jason gaped at him like a fish, as if he had never heard of the concept of supporting the women in his family. Finally, he cleared his throat and turned back to his sister. "Ten bottles of blood and a change of clothes?"

"Right," she nodded. "Liquor store'll have the blood. You can get the clothes at Wal-Mart." She gave Eric a quick look up and down. "Oh, he needs some shoes, too."

He felt ashamed of himself, standing here like an incompetent child, but he kept his chin high. Jason stepped closer to him again to compare their shoe sizes. His high-pitched whistle was startling.

Jason grinned at Sookie. "Big feet. Is the old saying true?"

Eric tried to recall an old saying about feet, but he came up with nothing.

"You may not believe me," Sookie said with a smile, "but I don't know."

"Kind of hard to swallow." Jason chuckled. "No joke intended. Well, I'm gone."

Eric crossed his arms and stood near the window, watching Jason's truck until it disappeared. Sookie was standing in front of her fire, dangling a hairbrush absently in one hand, and he joined her there. She was thinking about something. The firelight cast a warm glow on her skin. She was lovely.

He looked at her carefully. "I'm sorry I came out where he was here. You didn't want me to meet him, I think."

"It's not that I'm embarrassed to have you here," she said, smiling up at him. "It's that I have a feeling you're in a heap of trouble, and I don't want my brother drawn in."

Whatever trouble he was in, he had no intention of dragging anyone in, much less Sookie and her family. Especially not her. "He is your only brother?" Eric asked her.

"Yes." She swept her gaze over to the fire and stared into it. "And my parents are gone, my grandmother, too." She sighed. "He's all I have, except for a cousin who's been on drugs for years. She's lost, I guess."

Her sadness and loneliness felt like his own, traveling through his blood into every inch of his body. He wanted to tell her that her brother was not all she had, because now she had him – Eric. He would devote himself to her protection and happiness like her brother never did. I have no one else, either, he almost said. Instead he said simply, "Don't be so sad."

"I'm fine."

There was something he suddenly knew about his nature. Something he suddenly knew about her. "You've had my blood." Her body tensed up like an animal in a trap, and he felt her distrust, sudden and strong. "I wouldn't be able to tell how you feel if you hadn't had my blood. Are we…" He stepped closer to her and inhaled her scent. "Have we been lovers?"

Perhaps that could explain why her presence calmed him, the reason he trusted her, the desire he had to hold onto her the way a drowning man clings to a piece of driftwood.

She hesitated, and her face flushed. "No," she said. He knew she was telling the truth.

"This is not your brother's bathrobe," he said, looking down at himself and then back up at her. She shook her head. "Whose, then?"

"Bill's."

She had mentioned that name last night. Bill was the vampire who lived nearby. "He is your lover?"

She gave a short nod. "Was."

Last night she had asked if he was going to see Bill. "He is my friend?"

"Well, not exactly," she said slowly. "He lives in the area you're the sheriff of." She searched his face, apparently looking for some sign that he knew what she was talking about. "Area five?" she prompted.

None of that meant anything to him, so he made no reply. Sookie started brushing her hair, and the static in the dry air caused the yellow strands to rise up around her in a kind of halo. If he could feel her, did that mean that she also knew his feelings? Did she know at this moment that he wanted to be her lover? She smiled at herself and met his eyes in the mirror. Desire, his blood sang; it was hers.

He wasn't sure how to proceed. It wouldn't be proper to make advances on her. She knew their relationship better than he did, and she was a woman, so it must be her place to decide what they did. "Do you need something?" he asked.

Her cheeks were pink now. He knew he'd had her blood before, and now he wished he could remember what it tasted like. She couldn't possibly taste as good as she smelled, could she? He wanted to find out.

"I'm just fine," she said.

She wanted him, but she would not let herself have him. Was this how things always were between them, or was she being careful with him because of his mental state? He convinced himself that it was the latter.

"Your friends will be here soon," she said lightly. "Your jeans are in the dryer, and I'm hoping Jason will be back any minute with some clothes."

"My friends?" he asked.

"Well, the vampires who work for you. I guess Pam counts as a friend." She shrugged. "I don't know about Chow."

Pam and Chow. More names from last night, and they meant as little now as they did then. "Sookie, where do I work? Who is Pam?" If he was a sheriff, he must have an office somewhere.

"Pam works for you at Fangtasia. That's a bar you own up in Shreveport. Chow works there, too. And like I said before, you're a sheriff. You're in charge of this whole area. That's one of the reasons Pam and Chow are so worried about you."

"You don't know much about what I do."

"Well, I only go to Fangtasia when Bill takes me, and he takes me when you make me do something."

He didn't like the way that sounded. In his ordinary state of mind, did he treat Sookie badly? Did he summon her and give her orders and expect her to obey without question? This would explain her unwillingness to act on her desire for him. Then again, she was a human, and therefore not his to command, no matter what his position was.

"How could I make you do anything?" he asked. She had stopped brushing her hair, and he saw in the mirror that his own was a tangled mess. "May I borrow the brush?"

"Sure."

She gave it over and watched him brush his hair for a little while. Her desire for him was stronger than ever, but still she said nothing. After a few minutes, she left his side abruptly. Hoping that she wanted him to follow her into her bedroom, he did just that. He stood a few yards away from her and watched as she pulled her hair up and studied it in the mirror.

"You are tense," he observed, moving closer to her. She let out a little gasp of surprise, and he backed away. "Sorry! Sorry!"

She looked up at him angrily, her eyes narrowed. He didn't know what to say. Fortunately, her face softened, and she shook her head. Before the long silence became too awkward, there was a knock on her door.

Chapter Text

"You stay in here," she told him, pointing at the chair he'd sat in the night before. She left him alone in her room, and a few moments later, he heard her answer the door.

"We are here," a female voice said. He assumed this would be the Pam that Sookie had spoken of.

"Eric, come on out," Sookie called.

If the visitors truly were his friends – his subjects, even – he felt slightly ashamed meeting them in a bathrobe, but there was no help for it. The female had blond hair and a cold, impassive face. The male was covered in tattoos. He searched his mind for some memory of them, but the effort was futile.

The female smiled and bowed her head in respect. "Eric… you're well?"

"Master," the male said, performing a full bow.

He looked back and forth between them. Pam and Chow, a blond female and a tattooed male. Nothing. "I know you," he said aloud, as if he could convince himself of the fact. He would begin by thinking of them with their names.

"We work for you. We owe you fealty," Pam said after she and Chow had given each other a grim look.

From the corner of his eye, he saw that Sookie was backing out of the room, and he looked at her quickly. Even if he did know these two vampires, how could he trust them? Someone had done this to him, after all. Sookie was his bridge between the little he did know and everything else.

"Please don't go."

She turned around, but she didn't look at him. She was staring past him to the two vampires behind him. After a moment, she seemed to make up her mind, and she returned to his side.

He was about to start asking questions when a knock on the front door interrupted them. The vampires – his coworkers, his friends, he reminded himself – crouched into the same attack stance with which he had greeted Sookie the night before. He himself wasn't alarmed; he could see Jason's truck outside the window and knew that Sookie's brother had returned as promised.

Sookie went to the door and laid one hand against it. "Yes?"

"It's your brother," came Jason's voice from the other side.

He sounded different than he had earlier, as if something was wrong. Sookie seemed to sense this as well because she gave Pam a signal to go around to the front of the house. Eric backed away a few steps, surprised when the tattooed vampire – Chow, he told himself firmly – when Chow moved in front of him like a bodyguard.

Pam was quick; in no time at all Jason was yelling from outside. "Open up!" Pam called.

Eric, being much taller, could see easily over Chow's head as Sookie opened the door. He smiled at the sight of Sookie's brother fighting with all his might against Pam's hold on him. The Wal-Mart bags lay at his feet.

"You're by yourself," Sookie breathed.

"Of course, dammit!" her brother said angrily. "Why'd you set her on me? Let me down!"

"It's my brother, Pam. Please put him down."

When Jason was free, he immediately turned on Pam. "Listen, woman! You don't just sneak up on a man like that! You're lucky I didn't slap you upside the head!" Eric smiled again at the thought of a human slapping a vampire "upside the head" and the consequences that would inevitably follow. Pam also smiled, which Eric decided was fortunate for Sookie's brother. Jason flushed and smiled at Pam. "I guess that might be pretty hard." He bent to pick up the bags, and Eric was surprised when Pam helped him. Perhaps she wasn't immune to a handsome human man's charms after all. "It's lucky I got the blood in the big plastic bottles," Jason said, handing the bags over to his sister. "Otherwise, this lovely lady would have to go hungry."

"Thanks," said Sookie. "You need to go now." She looked from her brother to Pam, who appeared to be glamoring Jason. "Pam! Pam, this is my brother."

"I know," Pam replied, still staring intently at Jason. "Jason, did you have something to tell us?" she cooed.

"Yes…" His voice sounded thick and distracted, and his eyes were unfocused for a few seconds when they settled on his sister's face. Then he looked beyond her and saw Chow standing in front of Eric, and he snapped to full attention. "Sookie, are you all right?"

She moved aside a little as he stepped into the house. "Yes, everything's all right," she said in an airy voice that couldn't have convinced anyone. "These are just friends of Eric's who came to check on him."

Jason gave Eric a sharp stare. "Well, they better go take those wanted posters down." He went on to tell them about posters he had seen in local stores, offering fifty thousand dollars in exchange for information about Eric. He sounded a little too interested in the reward.

The response to this speech was silence. Fifty thousand dollars… that must be a good year's salary for most of the people around here. Eric wondered if he himself made so much. What if his own friends turned him in for the money?

He caught Pam's eyes as she looked at Chow. "They're hoping to sight him and catch him," she said. "It will work."

"We should take care of it." Chow nodded his head in Jason's direction, and Eric would have protested if Sookie hadn't done so first.

"Don't you lay one hand on my brother," she said firmly, putting herself in Chow's way. The vampires were staring her down, but she didn't waver. When her brother tried to say something, she stopped him. Her eyes were clear and fearless as she looked from Chow to Pam. "You'll have to kill me, too."

If they so much as touch you, I'll rip them to pieces.

"Big threat," Chow said with a shrug.

Pam seemed more thoughtful; she must like Sookie, or she wouldn't bother. Or perhaps she knew something about Sookie that Chow didn't…?

Sookie had told him that these were his friends, and Pam had said that they owed him fealty. Chow had even greeted him with a bow. It stood to reason, then, that he himself had the final say in this situation. He stepped out from behind Chow and spoke with all the authority he could muster.

"What is this about? Explain…" He picked the one who seemed to know more about Sookie. "Pam."

Pam's expression when she looked at him was that of a subject who is willing and grateful to cede power to her master. She seemed cheered by the fact that he was more like the leader she knew. "Sookie and this man, her brother, have seen you. They're human. They need the money. They will turn you in to the witches."

How could she assume that they would do such a thing? And a better question still was—

The humans asked it for him. "What witches?"

Jason scowled in his direction. "Thank you, Eric, for getting us into this shit." He squirmed away from his sister's hold on him. "And could you let go of my wrist, Sook? You're stronger than you look."

"Jason, please watch yourself," Sookie said in a voice that was oddly calm. She motioned to the sofa, and her brother followed her there to sit.

Pam and Chow seemed slightly less bent on killing the humans, but Eric placed himself at Sookie's feet. If either of them wanted to hurt her, they'd have to get through him first. Mentally incompetent he may be, but he knew he was perfectly capable of tearing off their heads.

Though Chow did not sit, Pam perched on the arm of a recliner. "Your brother must stay and hear this," she told Sookie. "No matter how much you don't want him to know. He needs to learn why he mustn't try to earn that money." She leaned back against the chair. "Several nights ago, we heard at Fangtasia that a group of witches had arrived in Shreveport. A human told us, one who wants Chow. She didn't know why we were so interested in that information."

"So?" Jason asked. "Geez, you all are vampires. What can a bunch of girls in black do to you?"

Pam gave him a withering look, but she kept her voice level. "Real witches can do plenty to vampires. The girls in black you're thinking of are only poseurs. Real witches can be women or men of any age. They are very formidable, very powerful. They control magical forces, and our existence itself is rooted in magic. This group seems to have some extra…" She twirled her forefinger in the air, as if she could coax a word from her head.

"Juice?" said Jason.

Eric had no idea what "extra juice" meant for witches – stronger potions? – but Pam seemed to consider the word suitable. She nodded. "Juice. We haven't discovered what makes them so strong."

"What was their purpose in coming to Shreveport?" Sookie asked.

Chow tipped his head in her direction, though he didn't smile. "A good question. A much better question."

"They wanted…" Pam glanced down at Eric. "They want to take over Eric's businesses. Witches want money as much as anyone, and they figure they can either take over the businesses or make Eric pay them to leave him alone."

He had more than one business? He had access to enough money to pay off a group of powerful witches? He felt a pleasant swell of pride.

"Protection money," Sookie murmured. "But how could they force you into anything? You guys are so powerful."

Eric listened as Pam explained what the witches could do; in short, they could ruin a business.

"So they want protection money," Jason said, as if Sookie hadn't reached that same conclusion minutes before.

Sookie, as usual, was a few steps ahead of her brother. "So how did Eric end up running down the road at night without a shirt or shoes?"

Pam and Chow didn't seem anxious to divulge much information to the humans in front of them. Granted, they could tell him alone, but he didn't want Sookie going anywhere. He wrapped his fingers around one of her ankles before he even realized he'd done it.

Chow folded his arms across his bare chest. "We told them we would discuss their threat. But last night, when we went to work, one of the lesser witches was waiting at Fangtasia with an alternative proposal. During out initial meeting, the head of the coven, Hallow, decided she, uh—" his dark eyes darted to Eric "—lusted after Eric. Such a coupling is very frowned upon among witches, you understand, since we are dead, and witchcraft is supposed to be so organic. Of course, most witches would never do what this coven was attempting. These are all people drawn to the power itself, rather than to the religion behind it." He paused for a moment, thoughtful, then continued. "This head witch, this Hallow, told Eric, through her subordinate, that if he would entertain her for seven nights, she would only demand a fifth of his business, rather than a half."

Jason gave a low whistle. "You must have some kind of reputation."

Eric couldn't help grinning. And why shouldn't he, he reasoned. Best to take pleasure in whatever good news came out of this fucked-up story. He was a good lover, it seemed. Well known for being a good lover. If Sookie would let him, he would show her just how good. He turned and looked up at her, unable to help himself. There was a hint of lust flavoring her emotions, but worry still dominated.

Chow's expression was downright dangerous now as he stared at Eric. "Though some of us thought he might be wise to agree, our master balked. And our master saw fit to refuse in such insulting terms that Hallow cursed him."

However damaged his mind was now, it certainly sounded like he had also been mentally damaged before.

"Why on earth would you turn down a deal like that?" Jason asked.

He wished he knew. Hell, he wished he knew anything more than the names of the people in this room, which was essentially the limit of his awareness. "I don't remember. I didn't know my name until this woman, Sookie, told me it." He shifted slightly closer to her, reminded yet again that she was his only anchor in an ocean of questions.

Jason pressed on. "And how did you come to be out in the country?"

"I don't know that either."

Pam, who had been listening quietly for a while, straightened on the arm of Sookie's recliner. "He just vanished from where he was. We were sitting in the office with the young witch, and Chow and I were arguing with Eric about his refusal. And then…" She made a poof gesture with her hand. "We weren't."

He felt Sookie's fingers in his hair, and for a few seconds, nothing else seemed to matter. Just as suddenly as she'd made the gesture, however, she pulled her hand back. "Ring any bells, Eric?" she asked him. Why would he ring bells? Was this something to do with one of his other businesses? He turned to look up at her in confusion. "Do you recall anything about this? Have any memories of it?"

"I was born the moment I was running down the road in the dark and the cold," he said, speaking only to her. Her eyes were so clear, and her touch had been so gentle. He wished all the others would leave them in peace. Whatever world he had left, he had no desire to return to it now. "Until you took me in, I was a void." Perhaps his whole life had been a void. If anything in that former life mattered to him at all, shouldn't he feel at least a hint of it?

Sookie swallowed and looked up at the other two vampires again. "This just doesn't track. This wouldn't just happen out of the blue with no warning." Her eyes narrowed. "You two did something, didn't you? You messed up. What did you do?"

There was an uncomfortable silence, and Chow looked murderous. Eric wrapped his arms tightly around Sookie's legs. Did she suspect that they had done this to him after all? He sensed her fear, but there was no need for it. He would kill Pam and Chow if he had to.

Finally, Pam said slowly, "Chow… lost his temper with the witch."

Sookie and the others carried on talking about the witch's spell, but he couldn't bring himself to care. He was closer to her than he had ever been; her scent in his nostrils was so strong he could almost taste her. With eyes closed, he pressed his cheek to the material separating his nose and his mouth from the skin of her thigh. This is all I want.

Jason stood up to tend to the fire, bringing Eric back to the present. "You've been in Merlotte's before, haven't you?" Jason asked. Eric stared back blankly; he didn't know anyone named Merlotte. "Where Sookie works," Jason clarified.

Even if he had been there before, he wouldn't know.

"I have, but not Eric," Pam answered Jason.

Jason smiled. "So no one's going to instantly associate Eric with Sookie."

"No, maybe not," Pam said after a thoughtful pause.

"So you're clear as far as Bon Temps goes. I doubt if anyone saw him out last night, except Sookie, and I'm damned if I know why he ended up on that particular road."

Yes, why? he wondered as the others' conversation faded into the background. Why her road? It stood to reason that an angry witch would send him somewhere dangerous, or that she might cast some kind of curse on him. Why send him running towards something that – at this moment, at least – he desired more than anything else?

"Why can't the Shreveport witches just cast a spell to find Eric?" Sookie was asking when he started listening again. Jason was back on the couch.

"They can't find anything of his to use to cast such a spell," Pam explained. "They can't get into his daytime resting place to find a hair or clothes that bear his scent. And there's no one around who's got Eric's blood in her."

Eric tightened his hold on Sookie's legs and cast a quick glance at her face. She was revealing nothing, and neither would he.

"Besides, in my opinion, since we are dead, such things would not work to cast a spell," Chow added.

Pam and Chow seemed to engage in some silent communication, and then Pam looked at Sookie decidedly. "Eric should stay here, where he is." A surge of happiness threatened to betray itself through a wide smile, but Eric forced himself to contain it as Pam continued. "Moving him will expose him to more danger. With him out of the way and in safety, we can take countermeasures against the witches."

"Going to the mattresses," he heard Jason say quietly to Sookie.

If he was suggesting that his sister should sleep with Eric, that was rude. What Eric hoped for, certainly, but not something a brother should say to his sister. But she didn't seem offended; in fact, she ran her fingers through his hair again. Then she did something odd, laying her hands over his ears. Any contact was welcome, though, so he released her legs and laid his hands over hers. Her fingers felt very thin and fragile under his. He could sense her tension and fear.

"Listen, Chow, Pam," she said. "This is the worst idea of all time. I'll tell you why. How am I supposed to protect him? You know how this will end! I'll get beaten up, or maybe even killed."

No, no, he wanted to say. I won't let that happen.

"If my sister does this, she deserves to get paid for it," Jason said. After an uncomfortable pause, the two vampires nodded in agreement. "At least as much as an informer would get if he called the phone number on the poster. Fifty thousand."

"Jason!" Sookie exclaimed.

Eric felt more pressure from her hands on his ears. Surely she knew that her hands couldn't stop him from hearing? And why should she care if he heard? He would pay her a hundred thousand if it were up to him. Even so, he was touched that she took offense to being paid. Some fast negotiating brought them to agree on thirty-five thousand dollars.

"Sookie, I'll bring you my shotgun," her brother said.

"That's really not necessary," she replied with a half-hearted laugh. She knew as well as Eric did that a shotgun was next to useless when certain creatures were involved. "Pam, Chow, is there anything else?"

Again the two vampires looked at each other. "I don't think so," Pam said at last. She rose from her place on the recliner and stood next to Chow.

"If any harm comes to him, you don't get a cent," Chow said.

Before her brother could protest, Sookie nodded. "Fair's fair. True Bloods before you leave?"

Pam and Chow accepted the offer, as did Eric. Sookie and Jason stood up, and Eric followed their example, staying close to Sookie's side as she escorted her visitors to the kitchen. The tete-a-tete didn't last long, since the vampires were eager to leave, and Sookie was just as eager to get rid of them.

Before Pam left the house, she laid a hand on Eric's arm. "We will do everything we can, Eric," she said.

For the first time that evening, he felt an affection for one of his workers – his friends, as Sookie had called them. It was also the first hint he'd gotten that they felt anything for him apart from a sense of duty.

When they all had left, he followed Sookie back to her living room. She added a log to the fire and sat down in front of it. "How did this happen?" she murmured.

He joined her on the rug, longing to reach over and pull her to himself. "I think this happened because you have a greedy brother…" A smile teased one corner of her mouth, and it gladdened him. "And because you are the kind of woman who would stop for me even though she was afraid."

She turned to look at him, her eyes searching his face. "How are you feeling about all this? I mean, it's like you're a package that they put in a storage locker." She gave a wry smile. "Me being the locker."

After a second's consideration, he replied, "I am glad they are afraid enough of me to take good care of me." Two vampires are afraid of me, but you are not.

Her eyebrows joined together, and she seemed at a loss. "Huh."

"I must be a frightening person when I am myself," he mused aloud. Then he smiled at her. "Or do I inspire so much loyalty through my good works and kind ways?" Her derisive laugh was all the answer he needed. "I thought not."

Sookie turned back to the fire. "You're okay." They sat together for several minutes in easy silence before she looked at him again. "Aren't your feet cold?"

"No." No part of him was cold, not with her in front of her fire like this. He weighed the consequences of leaning over to kiss her, but before he could make up his mind, she jumped up. He watched as she took a ratty blanket from the sofa and draped it over him. The gesture was touching, but the blanket was…

"That's truly hideous," he laughed when she had returned to her place beside him.

"That's what Bill said." She lay down on the rug and turned onto her stomach, resting her head to the side in her arms, smiling up at him.

Bill, her former lover. "Where is this Bill?"

"He's in Peru."

"Did he tell you he was going?" he asked carefully.

"Yes."

Her answers were short and to the point. She must not want to discuss this, or perhaps she was trying to appear disinterested. Perhaps both.

He picked his words with caution. He had no desire to hurt her, but if he wanted to win her, he had to know. "Am I to assume that your relationship with him has waned?"

"We've been on the outs," she said casually. "It's beginning to look permanent."

Eric rolled onto his stomach beside her and covered her with half of the blanket. "Tell me about him."

She hunched her shoulders in a shrug. "You know Bill. He's worked for you for quite a while. I guess you can't remember, but Bill's… well, he's kind of cool and calm, and he's really protective, and he can't seem to get some things through his head."

"He loves you?" How could he not?

Tears welled in her eyes. "Well, he said he did," she sighed. "But then when this vampire ho contacted him somehow, he went a-running. He'd had an affair with her before, and she turned out to be his… I don't know what you call them, the one who turned him into a vampire. Brought him over, he said. So Bill took back up with her. He says he had to. And then he found out that she was just trying to lure him over to the even-darker side."

She watched him with the expression of someone who's telling an exciting story to a captive audience – which, of course, she was. He didn't know what she meant by the "even-darker side," though. "Pardon?" he asked.

"She was trying to get him to come over to another vampire group in Mississippi," Sookie explained, "and bring with him the really valuable computer database he'd put together for your people, the Louisiana vamps."

He wondered what the valuable computer database consisted of, but he was too involved in her story to encourage a digression. "What happened?" he prompted.

"Well, Lorena – that's her name – she tortured him. Can you believe that?" No, he couldn't. "She could torture someone she'd made love with? Someone she'd lived with for years? Anyway, you told me to go to Jackson and find him, and I sort of picked up clues at this nightclub for Supes only. Its real name is Josephine's, but the Weres call it Club Dead. You told me to go there with this really nice Were who owed you a big favor, and I stayed at his place. But I ended up getting hurt pretty bad."

"How?" he asked, hoping it wasn't something he had caused.

"I got staked, believe it or not," she said. She smiled a little.

"Is there a scar?"

"Yeah," she said calmly, "even though…"

"What?" he pressed when it appeared that she wasn't sure if she should continue.

Her face flushed. "You got one of the Jackson vampires to work on the wound, so I'd survive for sure, and then you gave me blood to heal me quick, so I could look for Bill at daylight."

She was embarrassed, and he thought he knew why. Vampires didn't give blood to humans often; when they did, it was usually during love-making. But he and Sookie hadn't been lovers, and it sounded like he had shared his blood with her for practical reasons. Why should that be embarrassing?

That could be thought over later. He encouraged her to finish her story. "And you saved Bill?"

Sookie smiled. "Yes, I did. I saved his ass."

Still smiling, she rolled over to her back, and his blood pounded through him as she lifted her shirt. Was she…? No, she was showing him her scar. He shook his head to clear it and reached out to touch the faint pink line on her side. With all his will, he stopped himself from exploring more of her skin. She lowered her shirt again, much to his disappointment.

"And what happened to the vampire ho?" He didn't know precisely what the word "ho" meant, but her use of it gave him a good idea.

"Well, um, actually, I kind of…" Sookie looked up at him uneasily. "She came in while I was getting Bill untied, and she attacked me, and I kind of…" She averted her eyes. "Killed her."

He stared at her until she met his eyes again. "Had you ever killed anyone before?"

"Of course not!" she exclaimed, and he felt the truth of her words as strongly as anything he'd felt from her. "Well, I did hurt a guy who was trying to kill me," she went on, "but he didn't die. No, I'm a human. I don't have to kill anyone to live."

The small dig hit home. He wondered how many people he had killed. He wondered how many Sookie knew about. "But humans kill other humans all the time," he pointed out to deflect her. "And they don't even need to eat them or drink their blood."

"Not all humans."

He couldn't argue with that. "True enough. We vampires are all murderers." The thought bothered him.

"But in a way, you're like lions."

"Lions?" he repeated, looking down at her in confusion.

"Lions all kill stuff. So you're predators, like lions and raptors. But you use what you kill. You have to kill to eat."

In fact, that wasn't true. Only the very youngest vampires made "mistakes" when feeding, and even that was rarer now that bottled blood was available. He knew these things as instinctually as he'd known that he was a vampire and that he had given his blood to the woman beside him. Besides, most predators didn't feed on their own kind like cannibals.

"The catch in that comforting theory being that we look almost exactly like you, and we used to be you. And we can love you as well as feed off you." His gaze fell to her lips, then back up to her clear eyes. "You could hardly say the lion wanted to caress the antelope."

He had thought – and hoped – that he might reawaken the desire he'd felt from her earlier, but instead he detected fear and suspicion. He didn't know what to make of that.

Sookie frowned. "Eric, you know you're my guest here. And you know if I tell you to leave, which I will if you're not straight with me, you'll be standing out in the middle of a field somewhere in a bathrobe that's too short for you."

"Have I said something to make you uncomfortable? I'm sorry. I was just trying to continue your train of thought." Her eyes still searched his face for something he didn't know, so he changed the subject. And in his desperation, he rambled three possible topics in quick succession. "Do you have some more True Blood? What clothes did Jason get for me? Your brother is a very clever man."

"Yeah, Jason brought more True Blood for you," she replied, throwing the blanket off her so she could get up. "I haven't even looked at the clothes yet. Hang on." She made no reply to the last observation.

She returned with a plastic bag and a bottle of True Blood just as he finished folding the blanket and laying it over one arm of the sofa, where he'd seen her get it. While he sipped the blood, she pulled a blue sweatshirt from the bag and held it up in front of her. It had a big red "T" over a white outline of the state of Louisiana. He didn't know what it meant, but he nodded. She draped the shirt over one arm and took out the jeans.

"I hope they fit," she said, as much to herself as to him.

Eric shrugged. "If they don't, I can wear my old ones, the pair you washed for me."

He finished the blood and went to the kitchen to rinse out the bottle. When he returned, Sookie was sitting on the sofa with her legs curled underneath her. His new clothes were folded on the chair where Pam had been sitting.

She looked up at him and smiled. "Do you ever watch TV, Eric?"

"I don't remember."

He sat beside her and looked at her, thinking again of the lion and the antelope. No, a lion could never want an antelope, or any other prey, in this way. Sookie's sudden deep blush made him realize that he was staring, and he averted his eyes to the blank television screen across the room.

"What might I have watched on TV?" he asked.

"Oh, I don't know. Buffy, maybe." She laughed. He wished she would do that more often because he loved the sound of it.

"It is a funny program?"

"Not really," she said, "but you would think it's funny." She jumped up. "I actually have some tapes of it. Hang on."

She found what she was looking for and pushed a tape into her VCR. A few minutes later, he found himself watching Buffy the Vampire Slayer. It might have been offensive to him if it weren't so funny. As amusing as the show was, he could barely pay attention to it once Sookie returned to the sofa and curled up next to him, pulling the ugly blanket over them again.

"Why is that vampire's head doing that?" he laughed at one particularly ridiculous scene.

Sookie giggled. "They do that when they want blood."

"I take it this show was made before you humans knew we were real."

"Yeah, it was."

"What did you think when you first learned it?" he asked, looking at her curiously. "Were you frightened?"

She looked thoughtful for a few seconds. "I think we were all a little scared. But more than anything, it was exciting. I wanted to see a real vampire so badly, and I finally did when..."

"Yes?" he urged.

"Bill was the first vampire I ever met. That was last year." She kept her eyes focused on the television screen, but he could tell she wasn't watching it. "I'm kind of tired," she murmured. "I'm going to bed. You feel free to stay in here and watch the show."

Though the exploits of the vampire murderess continued to be amusing, he turned off Sookie's television when the first tape finished. She was rooms away, but he could feel that she was still awake. In the darkness of her bedroom, he shrugged off the robe that had belonged to her former lover and slipped into the bed beside her as he had done the night before.

She didn't open her eyes. "Cold?"

"Mmmhmm."

He shifted over until he was right next to her, and he wrapped his arm around her. The position felt very familiar; somehow he knew that he had done this before. It only took a minute for her to relax and fall asleep, leaving him alone in the quiet dark.

He silently thanked the witch who had given him this, and he hoped his friends would fail in their efforts to undo it.

Chapter Text

The following night he awoke to the sound of Sookie's voice calling his name. Once again taking care not to topple the items piled on top of the trapdoor, he climbed out of the hiding place. In the early hours of the morning, he had left Sookie's bed, watched some more of the show about the vampire killer, and brought his new clothes into the guest room where the trapdoor was hidden. Now he heard Sookie speaking to someone on the phone. He stepped out of his underwear since he didn't want to wear them another night without washing them, then reached for the jeans. Just as he pulled them up, he heard an audible gasp behind him.

After zipping and buttoning the jeans, he turned around to see Sookie standing by the door, her eyes squeezed shut. He stepped closer to her and laid his hands on her shoulders. "Sookie, are you all right?"

Yes, she was all right, he realized before she said anything in reply. His blood told him everything: she wanted him, and the desire was much more powerful than it had been the night before. It raced through his blood like lightning.

"Excuse me… I didn't mean to walk in on you." She swallowed and looked to the side. "I should have knocked."

This had not been her reaction the other night when she helped him. He had stood before her then in nothing but his underwear. "You have seen all of me before," he said.

"Yes, but intruding wasn't polite."

"I don't mind," he said honestly, studying her face. "You look upset."

"Well, I have had a very bad day. My brother is missing, and the Were witches in Shreveport killed t-the vice president of the Were pack there, and her hand was in the flowerbed. Well, someone's was. Belinda's in the hospital. Ginger is dead. I think I'll take a shower."

Though she didn't raise her voice, she said all this in a hysterical rush. Were witches, a hand in a flowerbed, two names he had never heard before. He didn't know which question to ask first, but she was already gone. A shower, she'd said.

He walked to her bedroom and removed his jeans, kicking them into a corner. Her lust for him was palpable, but just as obvious was her need for someone to comfort her and take care of her. She wanted to feel good, and he could certainly help with that.

He stepped into the bathroom and pulled back the shower curtain a little. Sookie stood under the spray while her hand fumbled around for the soap. His imagination hadn't done her justice. Perhaps he had seen more beautiful women in the life he'd forgotten, but he didn't think it was possible. His plan to begin this in a completely innocent way was now severely hampered by the fact that he was fully aroused, but there was no help for that now. She took a sharp, quick breath when he pulled the curtain back further and stepped in with her. The water was hot, rising in steam around them and thickening the air.

"I'll do that for you," he said before she could order him out.

Her lust was winning over her restraint. He took the soap from her and set about the task of washing her, though he carefully avoided touching her breasts. Despite his aching want, he would not make this more than it was unless she made that decision.

Her skin felt even softer as his soapy hands slid up and down her arms and over her stomach, caressing her. And her sides curved into her waist and flared out again into her hips with perfect symmetry. Being with her in this way was new to him, but somehow his hands knew the line of those graceful curves. He had to ask again.

"Have we ever made love?" She answered with a shake of her head as she stared up at him. "Then I was a fool. Turn around, lover." The word tasted sweet on his tongue, almost as sweet as he imagined her skin would taste.

She did as he said, and he took in the rest of her that he had never seen. He massaged the soap into her shoulders and back with gentle but firm pressure. He still felt the conflict between her lust and her indecision. No matter; he had time. He reached for the shampoo and poured some of it into his palm.

As he washed her long hair, he felt her shaking slightly. So many of her emotions were swirling through his blood that he couldn't tell which one he was dealing with. "Are you trembling because you are frightened of me?" Because you want me? Because you are frightened of wanting me?

She still hadn't replied when he finished rinsing out her hair. But suddenly there was only one emotion coming from her, and it was the one he had been hoping for. She turned around in his arms and took the soap. Neither of them had any doubts about what would happen now. He gasped when she touched his length and moved it so she could get closer to him. She wrapped her arms around him and slid her hands over his bottom, and he gave her a deep, rumbling sound of appreciation. Eventually her warm, soapy hands found their way back to his front. With eager sounds of approval, he leaned into her touch.

She seemed to know just when she needed to stop, and she slid her hands up to his chest, latching her mouth onto one of his nipples. When she sucked, he could imagine that she was drinking from him, and he groaned, reaching up with both hands to hold her to him.

"Bite a little," he said, his voice raspy with want, and she did.

He couldn't stop touching her after that. He stroked and caressed and explored every inch of her within reach, and she responded with gasps and sighs of pleasure that only aroused him more. Wrapping one arm around her waist to hold her steady, he bent his mouth to the breasts he had been aching to touch and taste. He slid his free hand down between her legs and into her warmth. She cried out as he moved his fingers in her, and he smiled against her skin when she clenched the flimsy shower curtain in her fist and tore it off several of the rings.

He straightened, turned off the water, and reached for one of the towels on the nearby rack. She took another one, and they set about drying each other in desperate haste. Eventually he dropped his towel carelessly to the floor and pulled her close for a kiss, his hands combing her wet hair back from her face and neck. He had never kissed her before… or had he? Just this, he thought, he could never tire of. Fuck whatever businesses he had left behind, fuck everything else.

"The bed," he gasped. He picked her up and was about to lay her on the bed when she reached one arm down to pull back the covers. "Sookie…" he said impatiently.

"Cold."

They fell into the bed, and he pulled the covers over them before he continued kissing her as he had before. She murmured his name a lot, which only made him more hungry for her. As he trailed his lips and tongue down her throat, his hands wandered over the rest of her. He jerked with a shock of pleasure when he felt her hand wrapped around his length. Resting on one elbow, he positioned himself over her, looking down at her face as she touched him again to guide him home.

Nothing of his former life was clear to him, but he didn't see how he could have cared about or wanted anything more than this woman. It couldn't have been chance that compelled him to run to her that night. Heart's desire… dear one…

"My lover…"

She gave a loud gasp when he pushed into her, and though her face was flushed with pleasure, he sensed that she wasn't quite ready for him yet. Her eyes were shut when he leaned down to kiss her.

"Don't close your eyes," he whispered. "Look at me, lover."

When she opened her eyes to meet his, they were hungry, and she returned his kiss eagerly, tracing his fangs with her tongue. But her body was still too tense. He could fix that.

He nipped her earlobe with his teeth and whispered, "Watch me."

Ignoring her protests, not to mention those of his own body, he pulled out of her. He kissed the soft skin just under her ear and continued down. The hollow of her collarbone was something he had wanted to taste, and he did. And her breasts… he would never, never tire of those. He lavished his attention on them as she arched herself into his palms and his lips. He could smell her blood through the thin veins under his tongue, and he heard her heart thumping madly under his lips.

"Eric," she breathed, "please…"

He kissed his way down to where she most wanted him, inhaling the heady scent of her arousal. The taste of her was even better than he'd imagined. He used his fingers and tongue to bring her to the edge, then raised his head to meet her eyes. They were still on his. He pressed his lips to the pulsing artery in her thigh, darting out his tongue to taste the skin there. She cried out his name when he bit, and she climaxed as he drank her blood and resealed the wound with his tongue.

Her chest was still heaving and her mouth still slack when he slid back up her body to kiss her hungrily. When he pushed into her this time, her gasp was from pure pleasure. She wrapped her legs around him, and they moved together only a minute or two before she came again, taking him with her. Whatever bond they had, it intensified his pleasure because he felt both his and hers.

"Min älskade!" he cried out, falling over her heavily. Her heart pounded through both of their chests, and he stayed very still for a moment as he enjoyed the sensation. He lifted his head and stared down at her face as she ran her fingers through his hair and brushed it back. Though he wanted to say something, nothing seemed adequate.

She smiled up at him. "I wish I could save orgasms in a jar for when I need them, because I think I had a few extra."

His intense happiness fed the laugh he gave her, and he rolled them over so that she straddled him. Looking up at her this way, he found her even more beautiful. Her hair, still damp from the shower, hung around her shoulders in messy strands. He slid his hands over her hips, up her sides, and around to her back.

"If I had known you would be this gorgeous with your clothes off," he told her, "I would have tried to do this sooner."

When she smiled, it lit up her whole face. He loved that. "You did try to do this sooner." She reached down to touch his jaw with her fingertips. "About twenty times."

"Then I have good taste." If he really had tried to make love to her before – and so many times – and if they never had, there must be more to their relationship than she had told him. "Tell me about us," he said softly, stroking her back. "How long have I known you?"

She studied his face for a moment, then shivered. "I'm cold." They arranged themselves until they lay side by side under the blanket. His head rested on the pillow, and she propped herself on her elbow to look down at him. "Let me think," she said when they were settled comfortably. "I met you last year at Fangtasia, the vampire bar you own in Shreveport. And by the way, the bar got attacked today. Last night." She winced. "I'm sorry, I should have told you that first, but I've been so worried about my brother."

That bar – Fangtasia – was an abstract that had no meaning for him. He knew he should care that it was attacked, but he didn't. If he had his way, he would never need to care about it again. "I want to hear about today, but give me our background first. I find myself mightily interested."

"You are the sheriff of Area 5," she said, and he remembered her saying something to that effect before. "And my former boyfriend, Bill, is your subordinate. He's gone out of the country. I think I told you about Bill."

"Your unfaithful former boyfriend, whose maker was the vampire Lorena." The vampire ho.

"That's the one. Anyway, when I met you at Fangtasia, you learned about my… my gift." A realization seemed to strike her. "You don't remember my gift, do you?" He shook his head. "I can read minds. Human minds," she added quickly.

He raised his eyebrows. "That is quite a gift."

"Well, you learned about it. And you started making me do jobs for you. Find a thief at Fangtasia, go to Dallas and find a kidnapped vamp."

"I made you do these things against your will?"

"Yes." She looked off over his shoulder, then at his face again. "Sort of. And the whole while, you flirted with me and tried to convince me to go to bed with you. Even when I was with Bill."

"I have not treated you as you deserve," he said grimly. "It's no wonder that we weren't lovers until tonight."

"You aren't that bad. Maybe I made you sound worse than you really were. You've also protected me and helped me. You were always there when I needed you." She smiled and leaned into him, slipping her arm around his waist to stroke his back with her fingertips. "And after tonight, I'm starting to think maybe I should have given in to your seductions."

Their laughter faded fast as their mouths and hands found more urgent occupations. "Your body is…" He kissed her as he thought. "…Glorious."

She blushed a mouth-watering shade of pink, then gasped and moaned as he closed one of her nipples in his mouth. One of his fangs must have pricked the delicate skin because he tasted her blood on his tongue. With a low growl, he sucked on the small wound.

"Eric," she gasped again, her body jolting under his hands.

He lifted her leg, laid it over his hip, and pushed into her. They were in no hurry this time, moving their hips together in an easy rhythm as they kissed.

"I love your mouth," he said. "I love the way you taste." Her head fell back, and she shut her eyes when he slipped one hand between them to help her along. "Look at me, Sookie. I like to see the pleasure in your eyes."

He brought her to completion twice before he allowed his own pleasure to overwhelm him. When they finished, he laid her head on his shoulder and closed his eyes, listening to her heart and her breath.

She turned to press her lips to his throat. "You are so beautiful," she murmured.

Her voice in the silence startled him. "What?"

She tightened the arm she had wrapped around his waist and draped one of her legs over his, nestling closer to him. "You've told me you thought my body was nice," she said. "I just wanted you to know I think the same about you."

"What part do you like best?" he asked her with a small laugh.

There was no hesitation. "Oh, your butt."

Now he was surprised. "My… bottom?"

"Yep." She burrowed her nose into his neck.

He smiled up at the ceiling. "I would have thought of another part."

"Well, that's certainly… adequate."

After letting the silence hang for a moment, he repeated, "Adequate?" He unclasped his fingers from the hand he held and guided it down to touch him. With her hand under his, he stroked up and down a few times until her fingers wrapped around him. For a moment he closed his eyes and absorbed the feeling, then said, "This is adequate?"

Still stroking him, she lifted her head and smiled down at his face. "Maybe I should have said it's a gracious plenty."

"A gracious plenty," he echoed shakily. "I like that."

He was already desperate for her, and he lifted her over him again. But she leaned down to him, kissed him fully on the mouth, and began to slide down the length of his body, trailing kisses along the way. She reached her destination and took him into her mouth, and he clenched her sheets in his fists, repeating her name in a ragged moan. He tore his eyes off her face and squeezed them shut as he braced his body for release.

When she had him on the edge, she lifted her head and said softly, "Eric…" He responded with an incoherent sound that he hoped conveyed his need for her to finish. "Eric, watch me."

Her use of his own words only magnified his pleasure when she lowered her mouth back to him, her eyes on his, and it wasn't long before the orgasm shuddered through him. She crawled back up to kiss him, letting out a little squeak of surprise when he rolled her over, still kissing her, and slid his hand down to return the favor.

She was truly exhausted after that – exhausted and sated – her body a warm, langorous weight in his arms.

"You are the best lover I've ever had," he said quietly.

Her body shook as she laughed a little. "How do you know?"

"Because I would remember something that good if I had ever felt it."

"Oh, Eric," she sighed, but her voice was sad. She propped up on her elbow and gave him a brief, soft kiss. "You're the best lover I've ever had, too. I wish…" She blushed and let her gaze fall from his eyes to his lips. "I wish you knew how good that felt. How much I needed it."

But he did know because he had felt her pleasure as vividly as his own. "I am happy," he said. "You make me happy."

She laid her head down on his shoulder again. "You have lots of other things that make you happy. You'll see."

They lay in silence for a long time before he answered. "Even if there are such things, I was running away from them. I was running to you."

But she was already asleep.

Chapter Text

She was gone when he woke, so he took a hasty shower – smiling as he did so, remembering the night before – and dressed himself in the clothes Jason had brought from Wal-Mart. There was nothing to do then but wait for her. When he heard her car outside, he ran to meet her halfway on the steps. He caught her in his arms and turned them around at vampire speed. He was giddy, he realized with some surprise. What should he touch first? Her legs were already wrapped around him, which was an excellent start.

"Eric, you shouldn't be—"

He stopped her warning with a kiss, reveling in the desire and relaxation that began to replace the tension he had felt from her at first. It didn't last. She leaned her head back to break off their kiss, but he simply used the opportunity to trail his lips over her jaw line and down her neck.

"Listen, Eric," she breathed.

"Shhh." She was perfectly safe here with him; didn't she know that? The outside world couldn't touch them.

"No, you have to let me speak," she protested. "We have to hide."

Hide? However blank his former life seemed, he felt fairly certain that he was not one to hide. He kissed his way up from her throat to her ear. "From whom?" Her shiver made him smile against her skin.

"The bad witch, the one that's after you, she came into the bar with her brother, and they put up that poster."

"So?" He watched and listened to the rapid pulse in her neck. Perhaps he would bite there tonight.

"They asked what other vampires lived locally," she hurried on. "And of course we had to say Bill did. So they asked for directions to Bill's house, and I guess they're over there looking for you."

He failed to see the significance. "And?"

"That's right across the cemetery from here!" She sounded both frightened and exasperated. "What if they come over here?"

So she did expect him to run and cower like a little human child, instead of face the danger – protect her – like the powerful vampire he knew rather than remembered himself to be. "You advise me to hide?" he asked her, wounded. "To get back in that black hole below your house?"

"Oh, yes," she said, touching his cheek. "Just for a little while. You're my responsibility. I have to keep you safe."

She meant to keep him safe? It didn't do wonders for his dignity, but it was endearing. He knew he ought to be offended. Instead he felt touched by her earnest belief that she could protect him… and pleased that she wanted to protect him. He was excited now at the prospect of facing the danger head-on, as much to restore his pride as to ensure her faith in him.

"Come on, lover," he said easily. "Let's have a look."

He kissed her – a promise of more to come – tightened his arms around her waist, and leapt from the porch. With one quick movement, he shifted her around to his back and hooked his arms under her knees. Then he ran for the first time since she'd found him the other night. The air was sharp and cold on his skin. Delicious. Invigorating. Sookie's apprehension was fading into enjoyment, and he smiled.

He stopped beside an old, tall tree with a thick trunk and leaned back slightly so that his lover's feet could find the ground. Turning to face her, he pressed his body against hers to pin her flat against the bark. She held onto his wrists as if she could ever stop him from doing something he chose to do. There were voices from the direction of the house, which was only a tall, shadowy shape in the darkness.

The witch's voice pulled at something invisible inside him; he knew it immediately. I curse you, he heard just as clearly as if she stood next to him and whispered it in his ear.

Sookie flinched, jerking him back from his reverie, and he pressed her more tightly against the trunk. She had no reason to be afraid; he would protect her.

The witch was casting some sort of spell, but he couldn't understand the words. He could, however, feel Sookie's fear coursing through his veins. The weres had sensed their presence and were shifting into their filthy canine forms all around them, their bones snapping and realigning.

Sookie clung to him tightly and whispered an apology in his ear. What was she sorry for? He would have asked her if he could speak. He was the one who had brought her out here, ignoring all her pleas. If any harm came to her because of this, he would be sorry. But being here with her in the middle of such excitement? Learning more about the witch who had cursed him? He wasn't sorry at all.

The wolves and shifters were no danger to him or to Sookie. If he and his lover had been the targets, they would already have been attacked. The real danger – the witches – were escaping. He had heard their car doors shut. With vampire speed, he left Sookie to hide behind another tree, and then another. He couldn't let the witch escape, not when she had the power to return his life to him. Not that he wanted the old life, since Sookie hadn't been his. It was his memory he wanted. Sookie couldn't be expected to stay forever with a half-wit.

The witches started the car and peeled out of the gravel driveway, and he followed close behind, moving from the shelter of one tree to another. As the car sped down the narrow lane, it slammed into one of the shifters – a female, who yelped in pain. She did not interest him. He followed the car as far as he could, but to no avail.

He shot up into the air, flew back to the house, and landed in the middle of the now-illuminated yard. Wolves. They smelled of shifter and wet dog.

"I followed them to the road, but they went too fast for me there," he said to Sookie, smiling to reassure her. She stood on the steps leading up to the large, open porch, and her fear was tangible. There was no denying the excitement of a hunt, even if it led to nothing. He heard a growl and looked down to see a small dog snarling up at him. He waved the dog away. "Shoo."

The animal obeyed him and went to Sookie, who sat down, hugged the dog to herself, and praised it. Eric wrinkled his nose in disgust. One of the wolves approached her and led her to the spot where the broken, bleeding, and naked body of the female Were lay. Eric followed a little behind, not expecting any danger but ready to snatch her away from the first sign of it.

She turned and met his eyes. "Go get my car."

Something in him rebelled at obeying a command like any mindless lackey, but he sensed her worry and desperation. He lifted one hand to catch the car keys she threw over, then shot into the sky. The January air was cold even for him, and he was grateful when he landed beside her old car. He heard the Weres howling in the distance. Had their female died already?

He opened the car door and managed to fold all of his long limbs inside the small space. Then he stared at the levers and buttons before him. I know this. He felt to the right of the wheel and saw the hole for the key. When he turned it, the engine came to life. Now reverse… no, the lever didn't move. Why not? He frowned at it. Brakes first. He pressed his foot against one of the pedals, but that had no effect apart from making the engine growl. The other pedal, then… yes… and move the lever… The car began to inch backwards. There was no letter for "Forward." D for Drive. Within seconds, he was speeding down Sookie's gravel driveway and out onto the road.

The Weres – including a naked old man who had evidently shifted – surrounded Sookie and their fallen bitch in a protective arc as he steered the car as close as possible to the two women at the center of the circle. He slammed his foot down on the brake pedal and remembered to shift back into park. With some amusement he watched the Weres pace outside the car door, glaring and growling. If he wanted to, he could break all their necks in a matter of seconds.

"It's my car, it's okay," Sookie told them.

Surely the wolves could smell by now that he was the vampire who had just left them. Whether they could or not, he wasn't afraid of them. He flung open the car door, slightly disappointed when every one of them managed to avoid getting hit. "I'll put her in," he called to Sookie as he opened the back car door on his side.

His offer was greeted with unfriendly barking, and the naked one volunteered himself to lift the female. He doubted the old man would have the strength. Fucking Weres, preferring that a weakling lift their wounded friend instead of a strong vampire.

Just as the old one bent to lift the girl in Sookie's arms, he stopped. "Maybe we should call the ambulance."

Sookie immediately shook her head and motioned to the unusual tableau. "And explain this how? A bunch of wolves and a naked guy, and her being up here next to a private home where the owner's absent?" She shook her head again, more vehemently this time. "I don't think so!"

"Of course," the old man agreed. To Eric's surprise, he lifted the girl easily and carried her toward the open back seat of the car.

In a flash Eric was at the door on the other side, and he helped the Were situate the injured girl. She cried out in pain, stirring his pity. If she hadn't been surrounded by her stupidly aggressive comrades, he might have offered his blood to her. Sookie was in the driver's seat by this time, and Eric hurried to join her. He was about to close the door behind him when Sookie laid a hand on his arm.

"You can't go," she said firmly.

He stared at her in disbelief. "Why not?"

"I'll have twice the explaining to do if I have a vampire with me," she explained. But he didn't move. She needed help and protection, and he didn't care how much extra "explaining" it cost her. "And everyone's seeing your face on the damn posters," she went on, seeing that he had no intention of leaving her. "I live among pretty good people, but there's no one in this parish who couldn't use that much money."

It wasn't so much about explaining, then. It was about protecting him. Again. He was angry with himself, angry at the situation, angry at the bleeding girl on the back seat. Without another word, he climbed out of the car and slammed the door.

He heard the window unroll behind him, and Sookie called, "Turn off the lights and relock the house, okay?"

Sookie drove away, leaving him alone with the Weres, whom he ignored as he walked to the house. Before he switched off the lights, he looked around the house. It looked gloomy and smelled of age. He couldn't imagine Sookie having a lover who lived in such a place. He didn't have a key to lock the door with, but he saw quickly that it could be locked from inside. Bolting it was impossible.

The naked man approached him on the house steps. "Thank you for helping us," he said, offering one hand.

Eric stared at the extended hand for a moment, then accepted it. "I did it for Sookie," he said frankly.

"Whatever the reason," the Were replied with a slight smile, "we are grateful. I can see that you're Eric Northman."

Eric nodded. "Yes."

"Sam," he said, motioning to the collie that Sookie had hugged earlier, "has given us permission to hold a meeting at his bar if necessary. Considering tonight's events, it is necessary. Will you join us? I think we'll have to work together if we want to get rid of these witches."

"I agree," Eric replied, trying to look as authoritative as possible. This man, naked as he was, seemed to be a leader of the Weres and shifters. Eric knew that his own position must be similar. Greater, even, since he was a leader of vampires. "I will call some of my associates in Shreveport." He wondered if Pam would obey him in spite of the condition he was in. She had appeared to respect him the other night. "I will meet you at the bar."

"Sounds like a plan," the Were said.

The problem, he realized as he flew back to Sookie's house, was that he didn't know how to reach Pam. Nor did he know the location of the dog's bar. One thing at a time.

But when he landed in front of Sookie's porch, Pam and another male were already there. To his surprise, Pam ran to him and embraced him. Just as quickly, she stepped back and looked down.

"Sorry." She looked up at him again. "When we got here and found you and Sookie gone, I thought the worst. Where—"

"The witch was at Bill Compton's house. Sookie and I went to explore."

Pam's thin eyebrows knit together. "As much as we're paying her to look after you…"

Eric returned her frown with one of his own. "I am not a child to be looked after. I went because I wanted to." Properly chastened, Pam looked down again. "Why are you two here?" His gaze flickered to the male standing behind her.

"Clancy is missing."

He didn't know who Clancy was, and he assumed she knew that, but it made little difference. One of their own was missing, and that was all he needed to know. "The witch?" he asked.

"Yes, that seems certain," she nodded.

"Where is Chow?" It was the only other name he knew, so he thought it wasn't a stupid question.

"He's closing the bar, but he's on his way. Gerald here agreed to come with me right away."

He gave a stern nod, even though he wanted to smile at her. From all that he'd seen, Pam was the best and most trustworthy of followers. He liked the no-nonsense way she had about her. "Very well. Right now I need you to drive us to the shifter's bar." He saw the "Why?" forming on her lips and answered before she could voice it. "The Weres are joining us in this fight against the witch. We are meeting them there. Sookie had to take one of them to the hospital, but she will join us as well."

He heard the authority in his own voice, and he could see that Pam and Gerald would not presume to question him. Equally to his relief, she knew where to go. Fortunately, the animals had arrived at the bar in human form. And clothed. Their leader, the old man, nodded in Eric's direction but did not approach him. The three vampires were given TrueBloods by the man who had been the collie; Eric knew him immediately by his smell. While they waited, Pam called Chow and told him where to meet them.

Sookie arrived there only a few minutes after they did. He felt her presence before the door opened to reveal her. She was exhausted. Remembering the sweet taste of her, he touched his tongue to his lips. Later. But then something even sweeter twined itself through his consciousness, and his eyes fell on the tall woman who accompanied Sookie. She smelled like pleasure wrapped in bliss, tied with a bow of rapture. Beside him, Pam and Gerald both straightened on their stools and eyed the orange-clad dessert.

"Claudine, what brings you here?" the old Were leader asked.

It had a name. Claudine. He licked his lips again.

"My girl here fell asleep at the wheel," the dessert replied. "How come you aren't watching out for her better?"

"Ah… uh…"

Claudine frowned disapprovingly and shook her head at the Were. "Should have sent someone to the hospital with her."

Eric felt pride forcing itself up from the fog of hunger and lust. "I offered to go with her. She said it would be too suspicious if she went to the hospital with a vampire."

The creature – what was she? – eyed him with obvious appreciation. "Well, hello, tall, blond, and dead," she cooed. She gave him a coquettish smile. "You in the habit of doing what human women ask of you?"

He narrowed his eyes at her and would have replied, but his attention was diverted when one of the Weres folded Sookie in his arms. And who was this, holding Eric's lover as if she were his own? He swallowed an angry growl.

"Who are you?" the Were leader asked the mysterious female.

Claudine gathered her black hair in her hands and raised it to show off her pointed ears. "I'm Claudine the fairy. See?"

The Were holding Sookie was clearly surprised. "Fairy."

fairyfairyfairyfairyfairy

Eric set down his bottle of TrueBlood. He had to save room for every drop of blood in the orange fairy. He couldn't remember what a fairy was, exactly, but at the moment it seemed reasonably clear. Fairies were delicacies.

Another one of the Weres, a young one, grinned. "Sweet. For real?"

Claudine nodded. "For a while. Sooner or later, I'll go one way or another."

I know exactly which way you will go. A few minutes from now, behind this bar, with my teeth in your neck.

The young Were was still grinning. "You are one mouthwatering woman."

Eric narrowed his eyes at the oblivious animal. No Were would have the fairy when a vampire – the Sheriff vampire at that! – wanted her.

"Thanks!" said Claudine cheerfully. She cast some sort of spell on herself and reappeared in a long, white formal gown. The neckline accentuated her long neck with its sweet blood pulsing underneath.

"Sweet," the young Were repeated.

The old Were leader interrupted. "Claudine, now that you've shown off, could we please talk about something besides you?"

Eric had absolutely no interest in anything besides Claudine, so he returned to his TrueBlood, keeping his eyes fixed on the fairy and ignoring everything else.

Some time later, Sookie directed her attention to their table. "And why are you here?" she asked, looking curiously at Pam.

Pam finished her TrueBlood and set down the bottle. "We have something to report, too. Evidently, we have the same goals as the Weres. On this matter, anyway." Eric realized that both Pam and Gerald had turned to him, waiting for him to take over. But he didn't know what to say. Pam seemed to be searching for something in his eyes, and she sighed when she didn't find it. She turned back to Sookie. "Our nest mate Clancy didn't return to us last night."

"What do you think has happened?" asked the Were who had taken Sookie in his arms.

Gerald answered this time. "We got a note. The note said that the witches plan to drain one of our vampires for each day they have to search for Eric."

"But why?" Eric asked immediately. Why should any other vampire have to die for him? "I can't understand what makes me such a prize."

Silence hung in the air briefly; apparently no one else understood that, either. It wasn't a good feeling. He might have known that Sookie would be the one to realize what he was worth.

"How much blood can be got from one of you?" she asked.

"Let me see…" Pam did some mental calculations. "Six quarts."

Sookie nodded. "And how much blood do they sell in those little vials?"

"That's…" Again she trailed off to calculate. "Well, that would be less than a fourth of a cup. So Eric contains over ninety-six salable units of blood."

"How much you reckon they could charge for that?" Sookie pressed.

"Well, on the street, the price has reached $225 for regular vampire blood. For Eric's blood…" She glanced at him. "He is so old…"

"Maybe $425 a vial?"

Eric couldn't help but be chilled at the matter-of-fact way they discussed his value. Not even his value. His blood's value. To drug dealers.

"Conservatively," Pam said.

"So on the hoof," Sookie went on slowly, "Eric's worth…"

"Over forty thousand dollars."

No, he was worth more than that. Pam and Chow were willing to pay thirty-five thousand for Sookie to protect him, after all. But he said nothing.

When Pam named the price, it had elicited a small gasp from the fairy, and he redirected his attention to her. He was surprised to realize that at some point, he had slipped off his stool and taken a few steps closer to her. He wasn't the only one; Pam and Gerald stood right beside him.

"So do you think that's enough motivation?" Sookie was saying. "Eric spurned her. She wants him, she wants his stuff, and she wants to sell his blood."

"That's a lot of motivation," a female said from somewhere in the room. Eric had eyes only for the fairy.

Claudine laughed, clearly unaware that she was about to be drained. "Plus, Hallow's nuts."

"How do you know that, Claudine?" Sookie asked.

"I've been to her headquarters."

"Claudine, have you gone over?" The old Were leader's voice was stern, almost angry.

"James, shame on you!" the fairy replied. "She thought I was an area witch."

The old Were – James – did not sound pacified. "It would have saved us a lot of trouble if you'd told us that earlier than tonight, Claudine."

"A real fairy… I've only had one before," Gerald murmured to Pam and Eric.

Pam took a step forward. "They're hard to catch."

If either Pam or Gerald thought they would have the fairy instead of him, they were sorely mistaken. He pushed past them both.

"Now, now, anything with fangs, take a step back!" Claudine was still smiling, but there was an edge of worry in her voice.

Eric had no intention of taking a step back. He took another few steps towards her. In a flash, Sookie had placed herself between him and the fairy. She snapped her fingers, waving them in front of his face. "Eric, snap out of it!"

He licked his lips. The fairy's smell got sweeter with every step. He would have sex with her before he drained her. It would be a waste not to. "What?" he said absently in response to Sookie.

"She's off limits, Eric." His eyes fell to Sookie's frowning face. She laid a hand on his chest, and he felt her worry, her jealousy. "Hi, remember me? I don't know why you're in such a lather, fella, but you need to hold your horses."

He didn't know what most of that sentence meant, but he got the general idea. He kept his eyes on Sookie's. "I want her." How could he explain to this human what that fairy smelled like? The fierce hunger and desire she stirred?

Sookie bit her lower lip for a moment. She was hurt. Why? "Well, she's gorgeous, but she's not available. Right, Claudine?"

No, she had misunderstood entirely. The fairy could have been a warty, snaggle-toothed crone for all he cared. He wanted her blood, nothing more. He wanted to kill her, drink her, and never think of her again. With Sookie… he wanted all of her. All of her, every night. He wanted to make her eternal like himself.

"Not available to a vampire," Claudine told Sookie. "My blood is intoxicating to a vampire. You don't want to know what they'd be like after they had me."

Eric stepped closer. If Sookie would only let him have the fairy, they could move on much more quickly to the important matters at hand. It wouldn't take him long to drain her. Not long at all.

"Claudine," said Sookie over her shoulder, "I guess we need you to step outside now."

The fairy eyed the three vampires, nodded, and allowed James to escort her out. Everything became clear suddenly, and Eric blinked. What the fuck had that been about? He sought out Sookie's eyes again. Had he really…? Yes, he had. He would make it up to her later.

"Just like a big petit four," said Pam longingly. Eric didn't know what that was, but it must be something good.

"Vamps really like fairies, huh?" Sookie gave a slight smile, but he could feel her hurt and anxiety.

"Oh, yeah," Eric replied, echoed by Pam and Gerald.

Sookie frowned at them, lingering on Eric. "You know, she saved my life, and she's apparently helping us out on this witch thing."

She was still looking at him with disapproval when James returned. "Claudine was actually quite helpful," he told them.

Disinterested, Eric wrapped his arm around Sookie. She should have no doubts that she was the woman he wanted. Her displeasure with him was melting as she relaxed a little against him. He squeezed her shoulder, then trailed his hand down her back and over her round backside. Fairies, witches, Weres, all manner of things he cared nothing about. Perhaps he could convince her to leave all this, go home, and let him make love to her. He had several places in mind.

The conversation around him was completely lost until – much to his disappointment – Sookie took a step away from him and asked, "Claudine didn't say anything about prisoners who might have been there?"

"No, I'm sorry, Miss Stackhouse," James told her. "She didn't see anyone answering your brother's description, and she didn't see the vampire Clancy."

The others continued talking as Eric berated himself for being so flippant about this meeting. He may not remember anything about Clancy, but this was a man who worked for him, who was possibly even a friend. And Sookie's brother, too, was missing. Surely he hadn't become a Sheriff by brushing aside problems that got in the way of how he wanted to spend his time. He straightened his back and resolved to do his part to put an end to the witches.

It wasn't as if they had to reverse the spell on him before they died.

"It was the vampires that started it," came the ugly voice of a female Were.

Before any of the vampires could protest, Sookie came to their defense. "That is so untrue!"

"Vamp humper."

One second later, the Were bitch was flat on her back, and Eric was poised to bite. He snarled down at her, letting her get a good luck at the fangs that were about to end her life. But before he could rip out her throat, he felt two sets of strong arms pulling him away.

"Don't, Eric," Pam whispered. "Please."

Some of the Weres were already advancing on him, but he didn't care. He could kill them all with the help of Pam and Gerald.

"Silence!" the Were leader shouted. He was obeyed immediately. Eric respected this man, though it was a shame he was such a low breed. "Amanda, you will be polite to our allies, and you will keep your damn opinions to yourself. Your offense cancels out the blood he spilled." He nodded in Eric's direction. "No retaliation, Parnell!" he said angrily to a Were who was still curling his lip at Eric. The old man took one of Sookie's hands and patted it. "Miss Stackhouse, I apologize for the poor manners of the pack."

Eric still felt inclined to kill the sniveling bitch on the floor, but Pam hadn't stopped her whispered pleas for him to calm down. He realized that he was still straining against her and Gerald, and he relaxed his body.

"Y'all are having a party without me."

Another shifter sauntered into the bar, and her entrance prompted a tide of anger in Sookie.

Eric glanced swiftly at his lover, looking for any sign that he should kill the new arrival. She didn't look at him, which was slightly disappointing. His bloodlust was at fever pitch.

The woman joined the Were who had been embracing Sookie. "Hey, baby."

Eric heard Gerald's slightly accented voice behind him. "We'll call you if anything more happens in this meeting."

"Will you go with Sookie, Master?" Pam whispered. "I think she needs you, and there is nothing more she can do here."

He knew when he was being gotten rid of, but he didn't care. Sookie did need him, and he did want to take her home and forget everyone and everything in this room, if only for the night. He went along with Gerald and bared his fangs at the new Were when she called Sookie a bitch.

Chow had arrived and was waiting for them outside. He pushed Eric into the car like a bodyguard and shut the door behind him. Eric heard Chow tell Sookie to go home, and then she joined him in the car.

He felt weak and helpless, frustrated that he couldn't be the leader that Pam and the others seemed to expect. Their drive back to Sookie's house was quiet. He could feel her weariness and tension and anxiety.

"Why are vampires so hated by Weres?" he asked to break the silence.

She brought the car to a near stop as deer crossed the road in front of the car. There was a third behind the trees, but Sookie evidently couldn't see it, because she continued on her way after two had run by in graceful leaps.

"I don't know," she mused. "Vamps feel the same about Weres and shifters. The supernatural community seems to band together against humans, but other than that, you guys squabble a lot, at least as far as I can tell."

He let the subject drop and silence fell once again.

"Um… Eric?" Sookie said after a few minutes. He looked over at her. Her cheeks were flushed. "I appreciate your taking my part when that Amanda called me a name," she continued slowly. "But I'm pretty used to speaking up for myself when I think it's called for. If I were a vampire, you wouldn't feel you had to hit people on my behalf, right?"

But you aren't a vampire. You are fragile and mortal. Suggesting that he not defend her was like asking him not to feed. It was a compulsion as well as a pleasure. And he would not stand by while someone insulted her. "But you're not as strong as a vampire," he said at last. "Not even as strong as a Were."

"No argument there, honey," she said, laying one hand on his. The simple endearment made a warm pressure build inside his chest until it ached. "But I also wouldn't have even thought of hitting her, because that would give her a reason to hit me back."

He pondered this for a moment. "You're saying I made it come to blows when I didn't need to."

"That's exactly what I'm saying." She squeezed his hand.

He turned away and watched the dark trees scroll past him. "I embarrassed you."

"No!" Then she paused, and he felt her uncertainty. "No," she said again, firmly this time. "You didn't embarrass me. Actually, it made me feel good that you felt…uh… fond enough of me to be angry when Amanda acted like I was something stuck to her shoe. But I'm used to that treatment, and I can handle it." She sighed. "Though Debbie's taking it to a whole different level."

"Why are you used to that?"

She didn't answer, and her blood gave him no hint of what she felt. He watched her as she parked the car and turned it off. Her eyes darted around the yard, though he could have told her that they were completely alone. Together they walked up to the back door of her house. Eric inhaled her scent as she unlocked the door, and all memories of the fairy were lost.

She locked the dead bolt and remained still, facing the door. "Because I'm used to people not thinking much of barmaids," she said in a soft voice. After a moment's confusion, he realized that she was answering his question. "Uneducated barmaids. Uneducated telepathic barmaids. I'm used to people thinking I'm crazy, or at least off mentally. I'm not trying to sound like I think I'm Poor Pitiful Pearl, but I don't have a lot of fans, and I'm used to that."

He was ready to show her exactly what he thought of her. He had been thinking of little else since he rose for the night. "That confirms my bad opinion of humans in general," he said lightly as he removed her old, worn coat. She deserved much better. He draped it on a chair and turned around again to face her. As he smoothed her hair back behind one ear, he looked at her lips – he loved that bottom one, so soft and plump between his teeth – then into her eyes. "You are beautiful." Blood flooded her face, and it was intoxicating. She bowed her head and waved her hand in dismissal. "You are smart," he continued, sliding his hands down to rest on her hips. "And you are loyal." He took a step backwards to lean against the kitchen table, pulling her along with him. "You have a sense of fun and adventure."

She pushed half-heartedly against his chest with her palms, and he knew very well that she wanted to be right where she was. "Cut it out."

Smiling, he turned so that she was the one leaning against the table. "Make me." He toyed with the bottom edge of her shirt. "You have the most beautiful breasts I've ever seen." He saw the laugh in her eyes before he actually heard it. "You're brave." Still laughing, she laid her fingers over his lips. Never one to waste a good opportunity, he tasted them with his tongue, and he heard her breath catch in her throat. Her body was becoming more and more supple in his arms as her tension melted into arousal. "You're responsible…" he continued as she wrapped her arms around him. She grasped the material of his t-shirt with both hands, either for support or in passion. Perhaps both. "And hardworking."

With a short sound that was half-laugh, half-moan, she kissed him hungrily. All of her fatigue seemed to have melted away. Somehow her mouth tasted even better than he'd remembered; was it simply because he wanted her even more? She was breathless, cheeks flushed, eyes as dark as blue could be, when he drew back slightly.

He smiled. "There." He kissed the perfect bow of her upper lip. "You're creative, too."

After a flurry of arms, shed clothing, kisses, and sounds of impatience, she was on the kitchen table with her legs wrapped around his waist. "Eric, please," she said, reaching between them.

He caught her hand in his. "Patience, my lover. I don't often get to dine at a human's table. I want to enjoy every course." Though she tried to hold him up with her legs and, when that failed, her arms, he knelt down and looked up at her face, grinning. Then he lifted her foot to his mouth and worked his way up.

By the time he finished with her, they were on the living room floor, once again in front of her fireplace. All that remained were the ashes from before, but he knew that she was in no danger of being cold, even with his cool body pressed against hers. She was tracing her fingers over his skin, humming quietly to herself, while he lay there without a word. The tastes of her were still delicious in his mouth, and her body was warm and damp. The air was so thick with her scents – sweat, blood, sex – it made him heady.

She nuzzled against him. "Thank you," she murmured, her breath hot on his skin.

He lifted her chin with his finger so he could see her face. "No. You took me in off the road and kept me safe. You're ready to fight for me. I can tell this about you." He saw his reflection in her eyes: a man who looked happy. "I can't believe my luck. When this witch is defeated, I would bring you to my side. I will share everything I have with you." No more of this allowing people to look down on you when you are better than all of them. "Every vampire who owes me fealty will honor you."

She smiled, but she didn't believe him. Even if her blood hadn't told him, he would have seen it in her eyes. She lowered her head back to his chest, and he felt the brush of her eyelashes against his skin.

"You've made me very happy," she said, and her blood pulsed with it in her veins and in his.

Chapter Text

She was already at home when he rose the next night; he could smell her as well as feel her. And he smelled other things. He frowned and walked, still naked, to her bedroom, feeling that familiar, warm pressure in his chest when he saw her curled up in bed, sound asleep. Careful not to wake her, he eased into the bed beside her, touched his nose to her neck, and inhaled. Not just shifter, but many shifters. Unusual ones at that.

Her heart rate picked up, and he felt her consciousness. "Sookie, what is this? You smell of the woods, and you smell of shifter. And something even wilder." He inhaled again, trying to place the scent.

"And Were," she added sleepily.

"No, not Were. More than one kind of shifter." He pressed his lips to the pulse in her neck. "What have you been doing, my lover?" Endangering herself, no doubt. He didn't like it

Sookie's body tensed, and all remains of sleep were quickly washed away by sadness and discouragement. "I was in the search party for my brother, in the woods behind his home."

He pulled her closer to him and stroked her hair back from her face as he stared up at the ceiling. "I'm sorry. I know you are worried." He could help her forget about that worry for a while. Forgetting, it seemed to him, was a blessing not enough appreciated by the world in general. It had made him happier.

"Let me ask you something."

He savored the warmth of her breath as her lips moved against his skin. "Of course."

"Look inside yourself, Eric," she said slowly. "Are you really, really sorry? Worried about Jason?"

"Of course!" he said immediately, answering her first question. Of course he was sorry. Of course he cared that she was anxious and hurting. As for Jason, on the other hand… "Not really." He paused, wondering if he should have lied about that. She might not like him if she knew that he didn't give a fuck about her brother. But lying to her was more abhorrent to him than anything. "I know I should be," he went on in an attempt to soften the unkind truth. "I should be concerned about your brother because I love having sex with you, and I should want you to think well of me so you'll want sex, too." But I won't lie to you to have sex with you. I won't sink that far.

"But you'll listen, right?" she asked. For some reason, she was feeling relief and fondness; he didn't understand why. Perhaps truth was more important to her than meaningless assurances. "If I need to talk? For the same reason?"

Because he was sorry? Because he wanted her to think well of him? Or because he wanted to have sex? The answer was the same to all, so it mattered little. "Of course, my lover."

"Because you want to have sex with me." He thought he heard a smile in her voice, but there was also disappointment.

"That, of course, but also because I find I really do…" He couldn't say love, could he? Not truthfully. He hadn't known her long enough. But he couldn't remember what love felt like; maybe what he felt – this heady mixture of hunger and happiness – was what they called love. "I find I have feelings for you," he said at last. What those feelings were he couldn't say.

"Oh…"

She hadn't expected that. She hadn't known already, from the way he made love to her, that he cared about her. He would have to fix that. They lay quietly for a little while, Sookie making idle circles on his skin with her fingertips as he thought more about what name to assign what he felt for her.

Her voice when she spoke was so soft that it seemed almost a continuation of the silence. "Eric, I almost hate to say this, but I have feelings for you, too."

He knew her feelings, especially right now, when her consciousness was flooded with them: affection, a desire to protect him, an unexplainable sadness. No trace of love. But again he wondered if love was something he could even identify. Maybe it wasn't a feeling at all, but an action. How else to understand the phrase making love?

He lifted her fully over him, slid her shirt up over her arms, and tossed it aside. The other obstacles would have to be torn because he wanted her to stay right where she was. He pulled her down to kiss her while his hands removed every shred of fabric in his way.

"Not love exactly," he mumbled, kissing his way down her neck.

She unclasped her bra. "No… but something close." She held his mouth to her breasts with both hands and made a small sound of protest when he abandoned them to return to her lips. As he kissed her, she slid one hand down to grasp him, and he jerked beneath her. "We don't have much time, Eric," she murmured. "Let's make it good."

Not much time? What did she--

She was raising her hips to take him in, but he stopped her. "Kiss me," he said, indicating the part in question. He wanted her mouth on him almost as desperately as he wanted his mouth on her. She smiled and started to slide herself down his body when he stopped her again. He made a twirling motion with his hand. "Turn this way. I want to kiss you, too."

Her face turned red, and he could actually feel the heat of the blood under her skin. They rearranged themselves until they were comfortable; he knew from her blush and her nervousness that she had never done this before. It wouldn't take long to make her forget her unease. As she wrapped her lips around his length, he glided one finger inside her, stroking gently, then began to explore her with his tongue. Occasionally one of his fangs would graze her tender skin, and she would shudder – not with pain, but with a pleasure that set alight every blood cell of hers until he could feel all of them inside his own veins.

He wanted to see her eyes, he wanted his body to be inside hers, he wanted to feel her breasts against his skin. With vampire speed, he sat up and pulled her into his lap, biting her neck as their bodies joined. She cried out, and her head fell back as if her neck could no longer support it. A few sweet drops of her blood, that was all he allowed himself, though it took all of his restraint to close the two red wounds on her neck. Sookie raised her head and kissed him greedily, all the while moving with him. She wrapped her arms around his neck and held herself to him as he guided her hips with his hands.

"Will you drink from me?" he asked.

She slowed her movements and gathered her breath. "But I'm not hurt or anything."

"Not for that. A lovers' exchange."

She nodded, her eyes dark, and bent her mouth to his neck. Her teeth pierced his skin swiftly and cleanly, and he held onto her body as hard as he could without crushing her bones to dust. She drank from him until his body healed itself, and when she returned her lips to his, he tasted his blood on them.

Never separating their bodies or their mouths, he rolled her onto her back, pushed into her one last time, and climaxed at the very moment she did. He stared down at her, leaning in briefly to kiss her. Now she could have no doubt that he cared about her; he had held back none of his passion, none of himself – not even his blood – as he made love to her. As far as he was concerned, he was hers.

Why, then, did he feel fear and grief from her? Why weren't her eyes as happy as he knew his own to be?

He still hovered over her, careful not to rest his weight on her. "What's happened? I can tell something is frightening you."

He saw tears forming in her eyes, but she blinked, and they were gone. "We have to go to Shreveport now. We're already past the time Pam said on the phone." She blinked again. Loss, her blood mourned. "Tonight's the night we face off against Hallow and her witches.

"Then you must stay here."

Her fingers slid gently over his jawline. "No. No, baby, I have to go with you."

No one had ever called him a baby, but he gathered from her tone that it was an endearment. He leaned to kiss her one more time, then helped her up from the bed. Her fear he understood, but why the sadness?

She took his hand and led him to her shower, where they washed each other in silence until he asked, "It isn't just fear that's bothering you. What's wrong?"

"I don't like the thought of losing you," she said softly. She turned off the water, pulled back the torn curtain, and reached for a towel.

He slipped his arms around her waist and kissed her shoulder. "Nothing is going to happen to me, my lover."

After a moment, she turned around and smiled up at him. "No. You're gonna be just fine."

Why did she still look so sad?

* * *

"Could you check the map and tell me which exit to take?" she asked, motioning to the folded paper stuck between their seats.

They had been on the road for almost an hour, and they hadn't spoken since they left Sookie's house. He didn't know what to say to her. Every passing minute increased her tension and sadness. He had reached for her free hand at one point, but she very quickly put it on the steering wheel and kept it there.

He unfolded the map and stared at the green, blue, and red lines. None of it made sense. "I don't know the meaning of any of this," he said, feeling rather stupid.

"Oh. I guess you wouldn't, since you don't remember any of the street or city names. It's okay."

She pulled over and parked the car, and Eric watched her as she knit her brows together and ran her forefinger over the map. Every time a big truck flew past them, the small car shook. At last she seemed to be satisfied, and she carefully pulled back onto the highway.

He wanted to make her smile. "Your word of the day was annihilate."

"Oh," she said with no smile in sight. "Thanks for checking. You're sounding pretty excited about all this."

He had to admit that he was, a little. He was excited about the prospect of going somewhere and doing something about his situation. No more hiding. No more forgetting. If all went well, he would be returning with Sookie as a lover more deserving of her.

"Sookie, there's nothing like a good fight," he said.

Her knuckles on the steering wheel were white. "That depends on who wins, I would think."

When they finally parked beside a very normal-looking house, he reached for her hand to stop her from leaving the car. She had already opened the door and now it hung slightly ajar. She looked at him with a question in her eyes, and he answered it by kissing her.

His fingers rested against her neck as he met her eyes. "We could go back. We could go back to your house." He brought his other hand up to her cheek. "I can stay with you always." He kissed her again, relishing her. "We can know each other's bodies in every way, night after night." Another kiss. "I could love you." Her eyes were shining with tears now, and he could feel her strong desire to do exactly what he was suggesting. "I could work. You would not be poor. I would help you."

She smiled a little through her tears. "Sounds like a marriage."

Yes. "Yes."

She lowered her eyes, raised them to his again, looked to the side. Then she pulled away. She left the car without answering him, which was answer enough. If he did survive this night, then, she didn't want him. The affection he'd felt from her was nothing more than the affection one might feel for a lost puppy. He met her in front of the car without a word.

"I'm an idiot," she murmured.

I'm the idiot.

Sookie knocked when they reached the front door, but no one answered. She tried the knob, which was unlocked. "Hello?"

They went in together through a few rooms before they saw the crowd gathered. As everyone stared, they took their places in the only two empty chairs available.

Pam raised one eyebrow. "We expected you earlier."

"Hi, good to see you, too, thanks for coming on such short notice," Sookie mumbled to herself, clearly annoyed.

The crowd seemed to be waiting for him to do or say something, but Eric knew nothing about what had been planned. It was Pam who took over the meeting. He was increasingly glad to see her leadership skills on display since she would be taking his place if he had his way. Everything she said was matter-of-fact and sensible. Their plan seemed to be wisely constructed.

And then she said: "Sookie will go in first."

Eric didn't realize that he'd reached for Sookie's hand until he felt her warm fingers in his. He was squeezing it tightly.

"Why?" asked a voice from the crowd.

Eric did not bother to see who had voiced his own question; he was frowning at Pam.

Pam crossed her arms. "Because Sookie is human, and she's more of a natural phenomenon than a true Supe. They won't detect her."

She was also more fragile. One gunshot, one spell, and she could be lost to him forever. He may be brain-addled, but he was still their leader. But before he could protest, Sookie spoke.

"What am I supposed to do when I get there?"

"Read the minds of the witches inside while we get into position," Pam explained. "If they detect us approaching, we lose the surprise of it, and we stand a greater chance of sustaining serious injury." She cocked her blond head at Sookie. "Can you count them? Is that possible?"

"Yes, I can do that," Sookie nodded.

Pam smiled, but it wasn't a pleasant expression. "That would be a big help, too."

"What do we do when we get in the building?" asked one of the Weres.

"We kill them all." She looked around at her audience. "What else would we do?"

The tattooed one, Chow, agreed with her. "They'll do their best to kill us. They only made one attempt at negotiation, and it cost Eric his memory and Clancy his life." Chow met Eric's eyes, then added darkly, "They delivered Clancy's clothes to Fangtasia this morning."

If they were that dangerous to vampires, what could they do to Sookie, breakable as she was? Sookie laid her free hand over his. Calm. This was what she felt, but it was also as if she were projecting the feeling into him, willing him to be so. It was that strong. He remembered their blood exchange and allowed her peace of mind to become his.

"Someone needs to go with Sookie," said another Were, the one who had embraced her the night before. "She can't go close to that house by herself."

Of course she wouldn't be alone, Eric was about to say. He would be with her.

"I'll go with her."

Eric searched for the one who had spoken and found himself looking at a very familiar face, though he couldn't exactly place it.

"Bubba!" Sookie explained with genuine pleasure.

Bubba gave her a lopsided grin. "Pleased to see you, Miss Sookie. I'm wearing my Army duds."

"I see that," Sookie replied, smiling. "Looking good, Bubba."

"Thank you, ma'am."

Eric didn't like placing Sookie's protection in the hands of someone he didn't even know, but she seemed to regard this "Bubba" with affection and trust. He was doubly reassured when Pam looked on the situation with approval.

"That might be a good idea. His… The mental broadcast… the signature… You all get what I'm telling you?" No, Eric thought, but he seemed to be the only one. "It's so… atypical that they won't discover a vampire is near."

"Where's Bill, Miss Sookie?" Bubba asked.

Eric frowned. Her ex-lover, the one who had lied to her and betrayed her.

"He's in Peru, Bubba," Sookie said. "That's way down in South America."

"No, I'm not. I'm back."

Eric, along with the others in the room, followed the voice to the doorway. Sookie's feelings were dancing erratically through his blood. Happiness – hurt – self-consciousness – relief – confusion – guilt – pleasure – anger. He tightened his hold on her hand before he even realized he had done it. I am your lover now. I am the one who wants to marry you and give you everything.

A conversation followed – a conversation that did not interest Eric – about a woman who had tried to torture Bill. Eric decided quite callously that she could have him, for all he cared.

"All right, then," said Pam when the lovers' quarrel was over. "Bubba will lead the way with Sookie. She will do her best to do whatever it is that she does, and she'll signal us." There were nods all around, and Pam continued. "Sookie, a recap: We need to know the number of people in the house, whether or not they are all witches, and any other tidbit you can glean. Send Bubba back to us with whatever information you find and stand guard in case the situation changes while we move up. Once we're in position, you can retire to the cars, where you'll be safer."

"This sounds okay," said Sookie with a nod. "If I have to be involved at all."

Eric squeezed her hand and smiled at her. She would be safe. Then they could return to her house and be together… assuming that was what she wanted. He wasn't so sure.

"But what will happen to Eric?" Sookie asked, surprising him.

Pam looked puzzled. "What do you mean?"

"If you go in and kill everyone, who'll un-curse him? If Hallow's coven dies, do their spells die with them, or will Eric still be without a memory?"

I'm not without a memory. I have many memories of the past few days.

One of the witches answered Sookie's question. "The spell must be removed. If it is removed by the one who laid it in the first place, that's best. It can be lifted by someone else, but it will take more time, more effort, since we don't know what went into the making of the spell."

"So you're thinking we need to save Hallow to take the spell off Eric?" asked Pam grimly.

"No, her brother, Mark. There is too much danger in leaving Hallow alive. She must die as quickly as we can reach her."

There were a few more loose ends to tie up, but at last Pam announced, "All right, let's go." She checked her makeup, then smiled brightly at Sookie. "Sookie, my friend, tonight is a great night."

"It is?"

"Yes." Pam went to Sookie and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, and now they both faced Eric. "We defend what is ours! We fight for the restoration of our leader. Tomorrow, Sheriff," she continued more seriously with something like humility tinging her triumph, "you will be back at your desk at Fangtasia. You'll be able to go to your own house, your own bedroom. We've kept it clean for you."

He stared at her wordlessly for a moment. Return to his desk at Fangtasia? Return to his own house… his own bedroom? No, he would not. His place was elsewhere now, and she would be the leader. She had certainly proven herself so far tonight. But they could discuss that later, after the battle.

"If I die tonight," he told Pam, laying his hand on Sookie's shoulder, "pay this woman the money that was promised her."

Pam bowed her head. "I swear. Chow and Gerald will know, too."

He regarded her again, searching her face for something he couldn't find. "Do you know where her brother is?"

Sookie flinched away from them and looked at Pam in disbelief.

"No, Sheriff," said Pam immediately. Her surprise was just as palpable as Sookie's.

He nodded, satisfied. "It occurred to me that you might have taken him hostage to ensure she didn't betray me."

Pam gave him an odd smile. "I wish I'd thought of that. I wouldn't have minded spending some time with Jason as my hostage. But I didn't take him." She turned to Sookie. "If we get through this, Sookie, I'll look for him myself. Could it be Hallow's witches have him?"

"It's possible," Sookie replied with a shrug. "Claudine said she didn't see any hostages, but she also said there were rooms she didn't look into. Though I don't know why they would have taken Jason unless Hallow knows I have Eric. Then they might have used him to make me talk, just the way you would have used him to make me keep silent. But they haven't approached me. You can't use blackmail on someone who doesn't know anything about the hold you have on them."

She was so clear-headed, even under the fear and anxiety this evening would bring. Pam seemed to appreciate this in Sookie as much as he did.

"Nonetheless, I'll remind all those who are going to enter the building to watch out for him," Pam assured her.

"How is Belinda? Have you made arrangements to pay her hospital bills?" Sookie sighed at the blank expression on Pam's face. "The waitress who was hurt defending Fangtasia? You remember? The friend of Ginger, who died?"

Pam still seemed nonplussed, and Chow answered instead. "Of course. She is recovering. We sent her flowers and candy. Plus, we have a group insurance policy."

"Good," Pam nodded. "You have to keep them happy." She looked at all of them, lingering on Eric's face. "Are we ready to go?"

"I guess so," said Sookie, sounding more resigned than excited. "No point in waiting."

Pam stepped away, and Eric was about to lead Sookie off to a corner where he could talk to her. He wanted to restate his offer, assure her that he meant it. But the ex-lover approached them.

"How was Peru?" she asked him. Her feelings were a void. Perhaps she was feeling so many at once that they all canceled each other out.

They chatted for a few minutes before Eric decided that this ex-lover should know that Sookie was no longer his to betray. "This is Bill, your former mate?" he asked her, though his eyes were narrowed on Bill's.

"Uh, this is… well… yes, sort of," she faltered.

He slid his hands over her shoulders in what he hoped was a reassuring way. She had no reason to regret this fool before her.

Bill frowned at Eric. "You really don't remember me." He sounded surprised. "Truly," he said, talking to Sookie now, "I thought this was an elaborate scheme on Eric's part to stay in your house so he could talk his way into your bed."

You fucking son of a bitch. This Bill could say whatever he liked to Eric, but how could he dare insult Sookie by implying not only that she was a whore, but a stupid, naïve one at that? He felt his fangs straining painfully at his gums, but he held them in check. Now was not the time.

Sookie turned in his arms and laid a hand on his chest. "We need to get in the car."

The strange vampire, Bubba, was riding with them, it seemed. He was Sookie's protector, so that only made sense. Sookie said nothing as she guided the car through the dark, empty streets of the suburbs, but Bubba was humming a song that Eric recognized, even if he couldn't place it.

Occasionally, he touched her cheek or her hand, trying to remind her of his presence. Trying to remind her that he cared about her and wanted her more than anything he might win back or earn tonight.

"This is a crappy car," he said to break the silence.

She didn't smile; there was no expression on her face at all. "Yes."

He touched her shoulder. "Are you afraid?"

"I am," she said with a short nod.

They rounded another block, and Bubba still hummed in the back seat.

"If this whole thing works, will you still see me?" He watched her face as it fell alternately into shadow and light with each lightpole they passed.

"Sure," she said, too quickly, too dispassionately.

He said nothing.

They parked near a convenience store and walked wordlessly to the corner where they were to separate. If he lived through this, he might never experience her the way he did now, as the center of his consciousness, his lighthouse in the fog, his lover. He pulled her to him and kissed her, trying to pour into her everything he felt. It was like making love without the act itself.

"You're not supposed to be kissing on anybody else, Miss Sookie," said Bubba. "Bill said it was okay, but I don't like it."

If the bastard hadn't been Sookie's protector, Eric would have killed him. Instead he separated himself from Sookie slowly and turned to Bubba. "I'm sorry if we offended you." Then his eyes were on Sookie again. "I'll see you later, my lover."

She touched his cheek and smiled at him, but her eyes belied what her lips tried to convey. "Later."

It was she who left him, and he watched her walk away until she rounded the corner.

Chapter Text

He joined the others who were awaiting Sookie's signal at the back door. Energy coursed through him the way it had when he ran with her to find the witch across the cemetery. He knew this about himself: he loved to fight. When Sookie invited them into the house, he plunged into the fray, tearing through flesh and bone with abandon. This was what he was created for! He licked the blood from his lips and smiled at each victim with what he could only imagine was wicked glee.

Without warning, a thick fog seemed to envelope everything and everyone. Eric couldn't see the body of the man he'd just killed as it hit the floor. His eyes did fall on the scorned shifter, Debbie. Sweeping his tongue over his fangs, he followed her through the haze and took her by the throat. But before he could kill her, he was attacked by someone that would require his full attention. That person took the brunt of his frustration and anger and was soon little more than a pile of bones and flesh on the ground.

As if the indoor cloud hadn't been strange enough, it then began to rain. He didn't know much about witches, but he was learning a new respect for their power. The rain felt good, and he shook his head, grinning as his long, wet hair whipped around his face, throwing drops of water and blood all around him.

Their enemies were dead now, all except the witch. He felt a keen sense of disappointment. Killing had unlocked a part of him that he didn't know was there. A part of him that he liked very much.

Pam came to him with her head bowed. "We found Clancy alive, but Chow has fallen," she said.

They went to Chow's body, and he followed her example in kneeling. His companions seemed to be waiting for him to speak, so he said softly, "We bid farewell to our colleague and friend." He hoped it was enough. They knelt in silence for a few minutes longer, and Eric tried to feel something besides detachment.

"The witch is bound, Master," Pam said as they rose. "Very soon, you can return to us."

He was going to explain to her that she was now the leader of this region, but Sookie appeared at his arm. "Is the curse gone?" she asked Pam. Then, turning to him: "Do you feel any different?"

"I feel no different," he said. Nothing has changed, my lover. She looked disappointed. Was she really so eager to be rid of him?

He rejoined Pam and Gerald, who had gone to the witch, and he watched as they questioned her relentlessly, demanding that she release him from the spell. He was silent as he stood behind them. Hallow looked up at him and smiled calmly.

"How do you know he wants to be released?" she asked, her eyes still on his. "The spell is an unusual one."

"I have had enough of your games, you fucking bitch," Pam hissed, and Eric looked at her, surprised.

"You think your maker has found something that will steal him away from you?" Hallow's smile never faded as her gaze flickered from Pam to Eric. "Or someone?"

Sookie. He looked around for her and realized with a rush of panic that she had left him. Without a word to his companions, he raced out of the house and saw Sookie in the distance, walking away. He would not give her up so easily. He ran to her with vampire speed and stopped in front of her. With a soft gasp of shock, she took one step back, and her hand flew to her chest. He stepped closer and put his hands on her shoulders, staring down at her, willing her to believe that this night's actions changed nothing.

"You weren't there. I just looked around, and you weren't there." She lowered her eyes. "Where are you going?" he asked as he slid one hand down from her shoulder to take her hand. "Why didn't you tell me?"

She pulled her hand from his and held it up between them. "Please. Please."

He touched her face. "Let me go home with you. I don't know them." All I know is you, and all I want is you.

She sighed, so exhausted and drained that it made his own blood seem to slow. "Sure, come on."

Without another word, he lifted her into his arms and held her close to his chest as he walked back to their shadowy parking place. She was crying. Her trust in him was so weak that she could believe he would leave her, just like that. Even after he had given himself to her.

"You have blood all over you," he whispered as he helped her into the car. He didn't want to upset her further, but he also didn't want her to get stains in her car, pathetic as the vehicle was.

She sniffed and swiped her fingers roughly under her eyes. "Yes, but don't get excited about it. It doesn't do a thing for me. I just want to shower."

It didn't do a thing for him, either. It was filthy blood – witches and shifters and who the fuck knew what else. Her own intoxicating scent was almost completely stifled by the mess. She started the car, and he turned to smile at her.

"You'll have to get rid of this coat now." He plucked the sleeve of the worn jacket.

"I'll get it cleaned." Her voice was hollow, and he decided to say nothing else.

When she finally parked the car at her house, he felt relieved to be home – and then he felt a keen pleasure at the idea of having a home, and of that home including her. He waited as she unlocked the door, thinking about how he would make love to her tonight. Perhaps he would bathe her…

He smelled the shifter before he saw her, and he flung himself in front of Sookie a split-second before he heard the gunshot. He fell to the floor hard, shocked that pain could be so blinding. But he had to get up. He had to kill the bitch before she took another shot at Sookie. Had to… he was losing blood fast. He searched for Sookie with his eyes and saw her grab a gun of her own. She bit her lip and fired it, and Eric smiled as his eyes drifted shut.

"Eric!"

Her voice was distant and near at the same time. That seemed impossible. Is this the end of the spell? He opened his eyes to see her face.No, this spell will never end.

"Drink." He knew he had spoken the word, made the request of her, but his own voice seemed unfamiliar.

She left his side before he could protest. She would not give him her blood? When she returned, she knelt beside him and offered a warmed bottle of TrueBlood. He took it, staring at her in confusion.

"Why not you?"

She grasped his free hand and squeezed it. "I'm sorry. I know you earned it, sweetie." She glanced over her shoulder, then back at him. "But I have to have all my energy. I've got more work ahead."

While he drank, Sookie carefully pulled back his clothing to look at his chest. She seemed amazed at what she saw, and he smiled slightly. Surely she knew that vampires could heal?

"Another drink?"

"Sure." She took the empty bottle and brushed some hair back from his face. "How do you feel?"

"Weak."

He sipped from the next bottle as he sat up beside her. His eyes fell on the remains of the shifter bitch, and overwhelming pride in Sookie surged through him. His eyes held nothing but admiration when they returned to her face.

"I know, I know!" she cried, covering her face with her hands. "I did terrible! I'm so sorry!"

Surely she didn't blame herself for the bullet he had taken. He would do it again… every night if need be. Taking care of her was his new mission, and he accepted it gladly.

"You might have died of the bullet, and I knew I wouldn't," he said reasonably, setting aside the empty bottle and touching her shoulder. "I kept the bullet from you in the most expedient way, and then you defended me effectively." And bravely, and decisively.

His words did nothing to banish the horror from her face. "I killed another human."

A human? "You didn't. You killed a shifter who was a treacherous, murderous bitch, a shifter who had tried to kill you twice already." He frowned. "I should have finished the job when I had her earlier. It would have saved us both some heartache…" He raised his hand absently to the spot where the bullet had struck him. "In my case, literally."

"But Christians don't murder," she murmured.

He took her hands away from her face and met her eyes. "I was never a Christian, but I can't imagine a belief system that would tell you to sit still and get slaughtered."

A smile won its way onto her face, though she still didn't look convinced. "Thank you, Eric." She leaned forward and pressed her lips to his cheek. Too briefly, not enough. "Now you go clean up in the bathroom while I start in here."

"And leave you to do this alone?" He swept his hand around them. "I will not." He was on his feet in a flash, extending his hand down to help her up. He pulled his ruined shirt all the way off and balled it up. The first piece of garbage. Now for the largest and ugliest.

Remains of the shifter were everywhere. He gathered the big pieces into a neat pile around the body and packed everything into trash bags. Occasionally he heard Sookie give a soft sob as she crawled over the floor with sponges and towels and water. He hated the dead bitch almost more for this than for the attempted murder.

He slung the bags over his shoulder and carried them deep into the woods. Here, away from Sookie, he ripped the body into pieces and scattered them in several deep holes, miles apart. No one would ever leave flowers at Debbie Pelt's grave.

When he returned to Sookie, he felt energized by the running, the flying, and the destruction of something foul. She still looked distraught, so he tried to hide his excitement, but it was little use.

"Eric, do you think you could find Debbie's car?" she asked, wiping her sweaty forehead with her forearm. Her hands were bloody and filthy… not that that kept him from wanting them on him, all over him.

Locating the car took no more than a minute. He levitated high above Sookie's house until he spotted the vehicle on a rough, narrow trail near the entrance to her driveway. She frowned when he reported this to her.

"What should we do with it? Do you think we could push it to--"

Before she could finish, he fished Debbie's keys from his pocket and held them up. "Leave it to me, my lover."

She smiled. "Well, at least one of us can still think clearly. How about I follow you, and that way you can ride back here with me?"

"No," he said. He put his arms around her and kissed her forehead, then her lips. "You are going to stay here and have a good shower. You are going to take care of yourself while I finish this job."

He allowed himself one more kiss, then ran at full speed to the abandoned car. He had seen a junkyard on the drive to and from Shreveport, and he drove there well above the posted speed limit signs. Now it was simply a matter of ripping the car apart. This was much cleaner and easier than tearing apart a body, and it took him little more than an hour to stow parts of the car all around the junkyard. He added the tires to a large pile of others.

Sookie was in bed when he returned to her, but there was no time to do any of the delicious things he had been hoping to do. There was no time even to lie beside her and enjoy her warmth for a little while. Dawn was very close.

He knelt beside her bed, smoothed some hair behind her ear, and kissed her cheek. "All done," he murmured.

"Thanks, baby," she said, her lips curving into a small smile.

"Anything for you. Good night, my lover."

Her lips moved again, but she had already fallen asleep. He padded softly to the guest room and changed into clean clothes to sleep in. Then he lowered himself through the trapdoor and stared up into the darkness until everything disappeared.

* * *

Something was wrong. This wasn't his bed or his coffin or even his backup resting place under the bar. He sprang up from the hole to find himself in a small bedroom that smelled of--

There was a light knock on the door, and he whirled around to see Sookie standing there. Her eyes were wide as she took in his attack stance and his extended fangs. She opened her mouth to speak, then closed it again.

"Sookie… am I in your house?" He obviously was in her house, but that made no sense at all.

She blinked. "Yes. You've been here for safekeeping." She looked around the room, everywhere but at him. "Do you know what happened?"

He remembered the witch's demands. He remembered getting dressed to work at Fangtasia the night before. He remembered Pam coming into his office to say that one of Hallow's messengers was there to see him. "I went to a meeting with some new people," he said slowly, squinting as if he could see the scene right there in front of him. "Didn't I?" These weren't the clothes he had been wearing. There were clothes that no one should be wearing. "When did I buy these?"

Sookie still looked stunned, as if someone had slapped her. "I had to get those for you." She sounded just as confused as he felt, if that was possible.

He patted his hands down his chest, over his hips. He seemed to be in perfect condition. What the fuck? "Did you dress me too?" He grinned at her and noted the way she flushed. One day he would have that beautiful body under his. Or over his. He didn't care where it was in relation to his, as long as they were having sex.

She swallowed. She still wouldn't look at him. "No."

"Where is Pam?"

"You should call her." Sookie folded her arms and finally met his eyes. "Do you recall anything about yesterday?"

Only one thing. "Yesterday I had the meeting with the witches."

"That was days ago," she said, shaking her head. "You don't remember last night after we came back from Shreveport?"

So she had visited Fangtasia, had taken him home with her? He smiled. "Did we make love? Did you finally yield to me, Sookie? It's only a matter of time, of course." But if they had been together last night, wouldn't he remember it? He sure as fuck hoped so.

Sookie didn't look amused at his flirting, as she usually did. She looked depressed. She was depressed, because he could feel it. She went to sit down on the bed behind him, and he turned to face her again.

"Something's wrong, Sookie," he said, frowning. "What happened while I was…" While he was what? "Why don't I remember what happened?"

Her eyes were welling up. "I bet Pam will be here any minute," she told him with forced lightness. "I think I'll let her tell you all about it."

"And Chow?" he asked. What had he missed?

"No," she said softly. "He won't be here. He died last night. Fangtasia seems to have a bad effect on bartenders."

The fuck? No one would kill Chow and live for much longer. He clenched his fists. "Who killed him? I'll have vengeance."

"You've already had." Her voice unsettled him. It was too unlike her. This voice sounded sad and defeated instead of sweetly confident. Or even angry and resistant, which he liked almost as much.

"Something more is wrong with you." Someone had hurt her, he could tell that much. Someone had hurt her very deeply.

"Yes, lots of stuff is wrong with me." She shrugged and glanced at the window. "And I think it's going to snow."

"Snow, here?" He grinned, willing her to shake off her gloomy mood. Most of these people in the South loved snow because it was such a novelty. "I love snow!" His grin widened. "Maybe we will get snowed in together." He imagined her in hat and gloves, making snow angels. Her long hair would be damp with snow, and her skin would be flushed and cold. He imagined himself subsequently warming her up in front of the fireplace.

She laughed, and it cheered him. "As if you'd ever let the weather stop you from doing what you wanted to do." She shook her head and rolled her eyes as she stood up from the bed. "Come on, I'll heat you up some blood."

He followed her down to the kitchen and sat at her table. Looking around the room, he couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. It was as if his mind could see things that should have been there, but instead there was nothing. Vague shapes. Memories of colors. A pressure in his chest that he had never felt before and couldn't place. It was an empty, painful pressure that strained against his ribs and threatened to push them apart.

Sookie seemed scattered. She would reach out to do something, and then decide against it. She dropped something, and she had never been clumsy.

"I have to get ready for work," she announced after a while.

She swept out of the room as he finished the TrueBlood she'd given him. He washed the bottle in the sink and threw it away, then he leaned back against the table. Something was missing, something important. He paced through her living room and back to the kitchen. He walked through the rooms again and again.

The minute Pam arrived, he led her into the kitchen and pointed at the chair across from him. "What the fuck is going on? Who killed Chow? Why am I here? Why don't I remember a fucking thing about anything?"

"I better get to work," Sookie mumbled. She grabbed her purse and slipped out quietly. If she thought he was done questioning her, she was sorely mistaken. But for now, he needed Pam.

"Pam?" he said, raising one eyebrow.

"You remember Hallow?" she asked.

"Of course. But we can decide later what we'll do about that." He waved his hand dismissively. "I may have to negotiate a smaller share of the bar or--"

"No," Pam interrupted with a shake of her head. "She's ours now. But back to what happened. Do you remember the night her messenger came to see us?"

"Yes."

"Chow attacked her, and she… We don't know exactly what happened, but you vanished. I heard from Sookie later that night. You had come here."

"Why?"

Pam kept her gaze steadily on his. "I don't know."

"Continue."

"Chow and I came over here the next night and arranged for Sookie to keep you hidden. Master, you remembered nothing. You didn't know me. You didn't even know who you were."

He nodded slowly, absorbing this. "You say that Hallow is ours now."

"Yes. We captured her last night when we attacked the witches. I used my unique methods of persuasion to force her to undo the curse."

"I can imagine," he said with a short laugh. "Is there anything else I need to know?"

"We'll have to give Sookie thirty-five thousand for this. Her brother was there the night we arranged everything, and he took advantage of the situation."

"Is that all you agreed to pay her?"

She looked taken aback. "All?" she repeated. She removed the bar's checkbook from her purse and showed him the first check, which she'd already made out to Sookie. "This isn't enough?"

"She deserves more," he said, taking the checkbook. He ripped out the check and tore it into pieces, then wrote out a new one, which he set in a safe place on the table between them. He put the Fangtasia checkbook into his own pocket. "I'm sure there's much to be done. First, I want Hallow's place searched. I want to know what spell did this." Pam nodded. "Next, I want to be told with complete certainty that her allies are either dead or far away. I want you to contact Chow's maker and let him know of Chow's death. We will pay him whatever recompense he is owed. We've wasted enough time here. Let's go."

"Master?" Pam said with a genuine smile as they stepped outside the house and into the winter air. "It's good to have you back."

* * *

His office was the same as he'd left it, but he couldn't shake the feeling that something was either missing or out of place. He drummed a pencil on the desk, staring across the office at the closed door. Pam joined him about an hour before dawn. She had changed out of her black leather costume into a pale yellow sweater set, and she carried a book under her arm.

"I think we found the spell, Eric," she said. She walked around the desk and sat on it, facing him. She flipped through the book to a marked page and held it out to him.

The name of the spell was simply "Loss." His eyes flew up to Pam's, studied her inscrutable expression for a moment, then returned to the book. The victim's memory will be erased. He will seek out his heart's desire but never know it if he finds it. Often leads to madness and/or death.

"But I did know it."

Pam leaned in closer. "What?"

"What did I say?" Eric blinked and tossed the book on his desk. "The spell doesn't make sense. What could possibly be Hallow's reason for casting it on me?"

"My guess is that it seemed to be the most permanent method of getting you out of the way. If you were off looking for something you could never find, with no idea of who you were, she would be free to waltz in and take everything we have."

"But you would have stopped her," Eric smiled. "She didn't figure you into the equation." Pam looked pleased. "Now. What was the 'heart's desire'?"

Pam stood up and smoothed her skirt. "I told you where you were found," she said, then left the office.

* * *

He drove to Bon Temps as soon as the sun surrendered to the early winter evening. Sookie's drive looked good with the new gravel. He parked across from the turnoff, near a worn hiking and four-wheeler trail, and stared down the drive. The aching pressure in his chest had returned. He still couldn't rid his mind of the flashes of nothing that persisted. He set his jaw and drove down the short road to her house.

Sookie answered his knock and stared up at him with an expression he simply couldn't place. She was tired and sad – her blood told him that much. And, he found, it was clearer than he could remember. She had taken more of his blood. Why?

"I find myself troubled."

Sookie raised her chin in that defiant way he loved. "Then I've got to drop everything so I can help you out?"

None of your coyness tonight, my darling. I want answers. "I'll be polite and ask if I can come in." Politeness always worked with her.

Sure enough, she stood outside and made a welcoming gesture with her hand. "Yes, you can."

"Hallow is dead," he informed her as she closed the door and turned again to face him. He smiled. "Having been forced to counter the curse on me, obviously."

Her expression was absent, her mind clearly elsewhere. "Pam did a good job."

"It was Hallow or me. I like me better."

"Why'd she pick Shreveport?"

He told her the same story that Pam had told him; she looked as little interested in hearing it as he felt in telling it. Both of them knew that other things had to be said. One of them wanted those things said. The other clearly didn't.

"Pretty good reason to have it in for the supernaturals of Shreveport," Sookie said when he finished.

But he was finished with that. "They say I was here for several nights."

She smiled the fake smile he could recognize so easily. "Yes."

"And in that time, we never…?" He allowed his words to trail off. She knew what he meant.

"Eric, does that seem likely?"

So they had. She would have denied it immediately otherwise. What had made her do it? Perhaps she preferred him when he didn't know anything about himself, but that seemed too easy an answer. Too far below someone of her quality. What, then? He took a few steps closer to her and didn't miss the catch in her breath. They had fucked, exchanged blood. What an unfortunate thing not to remember.

"I just don't know," he said in a low, smooth voice, "and it's making me a little aggravated."

"Are you enjoying being back at work?" she asked brightly.

She was choosing to ignore it, then, what had happened between them. What had happened between them?

"Yes," he said. "But Pam ran everything well during my absence. I'm sending lots of flowers to the hospital. Belinda, and a wolf named Maria-Comet or something." He had never sent flowers to a Were before, but this week had been nothing if not eventful.

"Maria-Star Cooper," Sookie corrected. "You didn't send any to me."

"No, but I left you something more meaningful under the saltshaker." He knew as well as she did that money was cold, impersonal, unfeeling. And – for him, at least – easily gained and spent. "You'll have to pay taxes on it. If I know you, you'll give your brother some of it. I hear you got him back."

"I did. And your point is?"

"It won't last for long."

"What's your point?" She was being difficult. "I can tell you have one, but I don't have an idea what it might be."

He wanted to know if he owed her more. He wanted to know—"Was there a reason I found brain tissue on my coat sleeve?"

Her face turned to ash, and she sank onto the sofa behind her. He was beside her in an instant with her hand in his. Touching her, he knew that she had given herself to him. "I think there are some things you're not telling me, Sookie, my dear." He rubbed his thumb gently over the back of her hand.

Tell me why you had sex with me. Tell me what you felt. Tell me what you feel now.

She turned her face away from him. "I liked you a lot better when you didn't remember who you were."

Then she didn't have sex with him. She had sex with… Not Him. He wished he didn't know. Not having her was better than knowing that she'd given herself to a false version of him.

"Harsh words," he said at last. He released her hand.

A loud knock on her front door interrupted them, and Sookie jumped up to answer it. Eric recognized the Were from past business dealings.

"I'm on official business today," she said, not bothering with a greeting, "so I'll be polite." Too late, Eric thought. "Glad to have you back in your right mind, vampire," she added to him.

Eric raised an eyebrow. Just how many people had seen him in his… altered state? He didn't like it.

"And good to see you, too, Amanda," said Sookie.

"Sure. Miss Stackhouse, we're making inquiries for the shifters of Jackson."

Sookie was panicking; he wouldn't have known it from her outward appearance, which was calm. "Really?" She gave her fake smile and gestured to the sofa. "Won't you please sit down? Eric was just leaving."

Nice try. "No," he interjected with the most innocent grin he could summon. "I'd love to stay and hear Amanda's questions." Brain tissue, a missing shifter, a Sookie who seemed very unlike herself. He would love to stay and hear the questions.

Sookie was really struggling with herself now. Fear and confusion and guilt were washing over her, but she was maintaining the exterior of a perfect, polite hostess. "Oh, by all means, stay. Please sit down, both of you." She glanced at the clock on the wall, and Eric knew that only he could discern her desperation. The Were had no idea. "I'm sorry, but I don't have a lot of time before I'm due at work."

Amanda nodded, business-like. "Then I'll get right to the point. Two nights ago, the woman that Alcide abjured – the shifter from Jackson – the one with the new haircut…" She paused to make sure that Sookie knew the person she meant. "Debbie. Debbie Pelt."

The woman who had shut Sookie in the car trunk with Bill. The woman who had gotten Sookie raped and almost killed. He felt fairly sure that the woman was dead, and that her brain tissue had been on his coat sleeve. He smiled.

"Alcide abjured her?" he asked the shifter bitch.

She rolled her eyes. "You were sitting right there!" Oh, wait, I forgot. That was while you were under a curse." Fuck you, Eric thought pleasantly, never losing his smile. "Anyway," she continued, "Debbie didn't make it back to Jackson. Her family is worried about her, especially since they heard that Alcide abjured her, and they're afraid something might have happened to her."

Sookie was all wide-eyed innocence. "Why do you think she would have said anything to me?"

"Well, actually, I think she would rather have eaten glass than talked to you again," said the shifter frankly, "but we're obliged to check with everyone who was there."

He felt her relief and became even more certain of what he knew. If there had been brain matter on his own coat… He stood without warning and strode through the kitchen and to the back porch, where he knew Sookie had hung her coat. It was clean, but he could smell the traces of blood on it. That meant little; Sookie's own blood was shed more times than he liked to consider. But shifters and Weres would be able to smell it, too; they might even be able to detect the scent of one of their own. It was one of the most ragged coats he had ever seen. He lifted one sleeve, let it fall again.

"She drove off in her own car," the shifter was telling Sookie when he returned to the living room.

"Has her car been seen?" he asked with feigned indifference.

"No, neither hide nor hair. I'm sure she just ran off somewhere to get over her rage and humiliation." The woman shuddered. "Being abjured… that's pretty awful. It's been years since I've heard the words said."

Weres and their ridiculous rituals. "Her family doesn't think that's the case?" he pressed, sitting down again. "That she's gone somewhere to… think things over?" Wherever she was now, she wasn't thinking anymore. Rather difficult to think with one's brain matter on a vampire's coat.

"They're afraid she's done something to herself." Both women scoffed at that idea. "She wouldn't do anything that convenient," the shifter added with callous honesty.

"How's Alcide taking this?" Sookie asked, and Eric looked at her quickly.

Surely she hadn't killed Debbie Pelt for Alcide? No. No, he knew that couldn't be true. The increased connection of his blood to hers was all the proof he needed.

"He can hardly join in the search since he's the one who abjured her," the shifter said. She didn't look very concerned. "He acts like he doesn't care, but I notice the colonel calls him to let him know what's happening. Which – so far – is nothing." She announced her readiness to leave by standing suddenly and heading for the door. Sookie followed her. "This sure has been a bad season for people going missing. But I hear through the grapevine that you got your brother back." She glanced over at him. "And Eric's returned to his normal self, looks like. Now Debbie has gone missing, but maybe she'll turn up, too. Sorry I had to bother you."

"That's all right," Sookie said lightly. She was nothing if not a good actress. "Good luck."

She closed the door behind the shifter, turned, and leaned back against it. Eric left the sofa and walked towards her. Perhaps he could convince her to call in to work and spend the evening with him. Tell him the truth. Allow him to prove that his real self was what she wanted and needed.

But the wave of relief that swept through his blood was undeniable. "You're going?" she asked, stepping away from the door.

He forced a slight smile and quickly rearranged his hopes. "Yes. You said you had to get to work."

"I do," she nodded.

He motioned to a light jacket that she had draped over one of the kitchen chairs. "I suggest you wear that jacket, the one that's too light for the weather," he told her softly, meeting her eyes. "Since your coat is still in bad shape." Talk to me, damn it. Don't you trust me? Her face gave away nothing, and he swallowed his frustration as he opened the door and paused. "In fact, I'd throw it away entirely. Maybe burn it."

With that, he left her alone. He drove back to Shreveport with the windows down and no music playing. Pam was expecting him back early to review the past week's business, but he found himself instead at the Dillard's in Mall St. Vincent. He browsed through the women's coats, found the one he wanted. It would look striking on her. His cell phone vibrated in his pocket as he walked back to his car, and he flipped it open to answer Pam's call.

"I am here," he said briskly.

"Oh," she replied, and he heard her sigh of relief. "I'm sorry for disturbing you. After what happened this week, I just--"

"It doesn't matter," he said. He settled himself in the car and stared straight out of the windshield before he turned the key. "What was I like when I was under that curse?"

"Like?" she repeated. "Well… you were just yourself, only you didn't remember anything. I guess you were more fearful, more nervous. You were confused. But all of that was just because you didn't know any of us. You were still you."

"I see." He was about to end the conversation, but Pam was still musing aloud.

"You were more you, in a way. I know!" He heard her snap her fingers. "Here's how you were. You were the human version of you. Make sense?"

The pressure in his chest pushed against his ribs, and he tried to imagine himself in Sookie's bed, with her body beneath his, with her lips breathing his name.

"Yes," he told Pam. "That makes sense."

Chapter Text

Hallow's book of spells contained nothing about restoring the victim's memory. When he had slammed the book shut in frustration and said this to Pam, she had only looked at him strangely and asked why the victim would want to remember time spent under a curse. Only a couple of weeks had passed, but still Pam seemed to skirt around him with an odd sort of deference – perhaps even suspicion. Of what, he didn't know. He had spent most nights in his office, having no patience for the usual parade of tourists and fangbangers. So many centuries of memories. Why should it bother him so much to lose a few days?

He had heard nothing from Sookie. Only she could tell him what had happened to him, but she seemed to have no intention of doing so. He wanted to know what he had done, what he had said. He wanted to know what he had felt. It was important; he knew that because of the empty pressure in his chest that had never gone away. It was the absence of something, a vacuum that she refused to fill.

And this newly arisen shit from Hot Rain…

He was leaning back in his desk chair, frowning up at the ceiling, when Pam strode in to tell him that Sookie wanted to see him. "On business," she stressed, cocking an eyebrow at him.

Business, of course. He would see her out in the bar. If he had her alone in his office, he might hold her skull between his hands and squeeze until she told him what he wanted – needed – to know. He might pin her to his desk and ask why she had fucked a false version of him, whenhe wanted her so desperately.

He sat down in a corner booth and watched her as she left the bar, where she'd been chatting with the new bartender, and approached him. She looked good. Her new coat was on her arm, and the sight of it pleased him, as did the nail polish she had evidently chosen to match it. He realized that the pressure was gone, replaced with a calm contentment. She was happy to see him.

He stood to meet her and lowered his head to kiss her cheek, breathing in the scent of her skin. "What pretty nail polish," he murmured as he drew back slowly.

She fought back a smile, but her happy blush gave her away. "Thank you," she said. "How you been doing?"

Did she really want to know that he was slowly going mad? Probably not. "Just fine," he told her, motioning to the booth.

She sat down, and he followed suit. "Had any trouble picking up the reins?" she asked as she laid her coat beside her and picked up her drink.

He shook his head. "Like riding a bicycle." To his surprise, he detected stirrings of lust in her. What was she thinking about? Remembering something he had lost, something she wouldn't share? "I did receive a call from Long Shadow's sire," he said conversationally. If he allowed his frustration and anger to get the better of him, she might never tell him the truth. "An American Indian whose name seems to be Hot Rain. I'm sure you remember Long Shadow."

"I was just thinking of him. What did Hot Rain want?"

He wanted to know why she had been thinking of Long Shadow, decided it could be because she had been speaking to the new bartender, and answered her question. "To let me know that though I had paid him the price set by the arbitrator, he didn't consider himself satisfied." He spit out the last word with all the disgust he felt.

"Did he want more money?" Sookie asked, frowning.

"I don't think so. He seemed to think financial recompense was not all he required. As far as I'm concerned, the matter is settled, and so is my little amnesia episode." He smiled. "The crisis is over, the witches are dead, and order is restored in my little piece of Louisiana. How have things been for you?" He was curious about her, and since they seemed to be having an actual conversation, he wanted to make it last. Before she remembered that she had come to him on business.

"Well, I'm here on business."

And there it was, apparently too pressing for her to talk to him for a minute longer about her own life. He swallowed his frustration. "What can I do for you, my Sookie?" The small endearment escaped his lips before he even realized he was saying it, but Sookie either missed it or ignored it.

"Sam wants to ask you for something."

Eric leaned back and regarded her for a moment. "And he sends you to ask for it. Is he very clever or very stupid?"

"Neither. He's very leg-broken," she said sharply. "That is to say, he got his leg broken last night. He got shot."

He leaned forward again, resting his elbows on the table. If another killer was in Bon Temps, there could be little doubt that Sookie would somehow become a target. She was a magnet for it. "How did this come about?"

"Sam and I were outside talking after work. It was just us, and it was so quiet." She swallowed shakily. "Arlene was just out of the parking lot. She went on home without knowing a thing. The new cook, Sweetie, she'd just left, too." Her eyes found his. "Someone shot him from the trees north of the parking lot."

Shot at him, or at you? "How close were you?"

"Oh, I was real close. I'd just turned to…" Her eyes were welling now as she remembered. "Then he was… There was blood all over…"

"What did you do?" he pressed.

"Sam had his cell phone in his pocket, thank God, and I held one hand over the hole in his leg, and I dialed 911 with the other."

Eric nodded at her with approval. "How is he?" He didn't actually care about the shifter, but it was the appropriate thing to ask, after all.

"Well… he's pretty good, all things considered. But of course, he's down for a while, and so much… so many odd things have been happening at the bar lately…" She seemed increasingly hesitant, and he knew that they were coming to the "business" that had brought her to him. "Our substitute bartender, he just can't handle it for more than a couple of nights. Terry's kind of… damaged."

"So what's Sam's request?" he asked, though he already knew.

"Sam wants to borrow a bartender from you until his leg heals."

He raised his forearms from the table to steeple his fingers, still watching her. "Why is he making this request to me instead of the packmaster of Shreveport?"

"Someone's gunning for the shifters and Weres in Bon Temps," she explained, speaking softly. "There--"

They were interrupted by a human who wanted Sookie's attention – a man who hovered beside their table for a moment and poked her, actually. "Hey, you."

Eric gritted his teeth. Any signal from Sookie, and this intruder would be out of the bar and lucky to be still alive.

She was clearly annoyed, but she turned to the man and smiled. Eric would know that forced smile anywhere. "I don't believe I know you.

The man glanced at Eric and squared his shoulders before addressing Sookie again. "You shouldn't be sitting with a vamp. Human girls shouldn't go with dead guys."

A growl died in Eric's throat as Sookie's hand slid smoothly across the table and rested over his. "You should go back over there to your friends, Dave," she said. She squeezed Eric's hand a little and pulled away again. "You don't want your mama to get a phone call about you being killed in a bar fight in Louisiana. Especially not in a vampire bar, right?"

"How'd you know my name?" the man asked, narrowing his eyes.

Eric smiled and shook his head. He liked people – especially women – who could take revenge with humor. Pam was a master at it.

"Doesn't make any difference, does it?" Sookie smiled coyly and looked up at the man from under her eyelashes.

"How'd you know about me?" the man asked again.

"I have x-ray vision. I can read your driver's license in your pants."

Eric looked at her, biting back a laugh, but she was careful to keep her eyes away from him. She wanted to laugh; he saw it in the tightness of her lips, as if a magnet was trying to pull back the corner of her mouth against her will.

The fucker still wasn't done. "Hey," he said with a wink, "can you see other stuff through my pants?"

"You're a lucky man, Dave," Sookie replied with the wickedest grin Eric had ever seen on her face. He wanted to kiss her senseless. "Now, I'm actually here to talk business with this guy, so if you'd excuse us…" She raised her eyebrows and nodded in the direction he'd come from.

"Okay," he said hastily. "Sorry, I…" He gave a nervous laugh.

"No problem at all." Again she signaled to him that he should get the hell away, and he finally did.

Eric watched the bastard leave, then cast his gaze over the entire bar, promising death to anyone who interrupted them again. "You were starting to tell me something when we were so rudely interrupted," he said, turning back to Sookie.

He leaned back slightly as a waitress gave Sookie a new drink. She took a sip and set the glass aside. "Yes." Her voice was still low and confidential. "Sam isn't the only shape-shifter who's been shot in Bon Temps lately. Calvin Norris was shot in the chest a few days ago. He's a werepanther. And Heather Kinman was shot before that." She sighed and shook her head. "Heather was just nineteen, a werefox."

A pack of injured animals with no bearing on the matter at hand. "I still don't see why this is interesting," he said frankly.

"Eric, she was killed." He raised an eyebrow, and Sookie looked exasperated. Why should she? A nineteen-year-old werefox had nothing to do with bartenders, however pitiable her death might be. "I'm trying to explain to you why Sam doesn't want to ask another shape-shifter or Were to step in to help. He thinks that might be putting him or her in danger. And there's just not a local human who's got the qualifications for the job, so he asked me to come to you."

Her flare of anger had stirred something in him, and once again he remembered that she had tasted his blood while his memory was lost. He kept his eyes very steadily on hers. "When I stayed at your house, Sookie…"

"Oh, Eric, give it a rest!"

She was a fool if she thought he would let it go. If a man lost his right hand, he wouldn't stop searching for it until he found it. Those few days of lost time seemed just as vital. He looked away from her, trying to swallow as much of his anger as possible. "Someday I'll remember."

"Yes. Someday, I expect you will remember."

He heard the defeat in her voice and felt the sadness in her blood. The silence between them lingered as he tried to detect something, anything, more. He didn't give a fuck about the shifter's bar, but if he sent one of his people, it would ease Sookie's mind as well as give him a way to protect her. And keep an eye on her.

"Sam was clever to send you to ask me. I'll spare someone." He cast his eyes around to see who was there. Bubba wasn't, unfortunately. He would have been perfect. There was Charles, of course. An unknown commodity to an extent, but genial enough, and strong. Eric turned back to Sookie. "What if I send Charles?"

"Or Pam, or anyone else who can keep their temper."

"Charles is the least temperamental vampire I've ever met," he assured her, "though I confess I don't know him well. He's been working here only two weeks."

She shrugged. "You seem to be keeping him busy here."

"I can spare him." He raised an eyebrow at her, curious as to why she seemed hesitant for Charles to do the job.

"Um…" She glanced in the bartender's direction, then nodded. "Okey dokey."

"Here are the terms. Sam supplies unlimited blood for Charles and a secure place to stay." Preferably with you. "You might want to keep him in your house as you did me."

That ruffled her feathers. "And I might not! I'm not running any hostel for traveling vampires."

Is that what you were doing, Sookie? Just putting me up for a few nights like a stray dog? "Oh, of course, I forgot," he said stiffly. "But you were generously paid for my board."

"That was my brother's idea," she said, looking wounded. It pleased him that she took offense; it was evidence that his time with her had meant something. If only she would tell him what it had meant. "But he was absolutely right," she went on. "Why should I have put a vampire up in my house without getting paid?" She looked away. "After all, I needed the money."

"Is the fifty thousand already gone? Did Jason ask for a share of it?" If she needed more, he would give it to her. He couldn't think of anything he would deny her.

She raised her chin and pursed her lips. "None of your business."

He searched her eyes, allowed his gaze to wander over her mouth and a stray hair that wisped along her jaw. Back to her eyes. "I wish that I could read your mind as you can read the minds of others," he mused aloud. "I wish very much that I could know what was going on in your head. I wish I knew why I cared what's going on in that head." I wish you would tell me.

She only smiled. "I agree to the terms," she said briskly, steering him back to the business of her visit. "Free blood and lodging, though the lodging won't necessarily be with me. What about the money?"

"I'll take my payment in kind," he replied, returning her smile. "I like Sam owing me a favor."

"Okay, then," she said. She reached over to her coat and withdrew a cell phone from the pocket. He watched her as she pressed some keys and took a sip of her drink while she waited for an answer. "Sam? Hey, it's me. I just talked to Eric, and he's going to send a bartender." She paused, listening. "Yes. Yeah." Another sip. "You have to provide all the blood he needs, and he'll also need a place to stay. And um… you're gonna owe Eric a favor." The shifter agreed – not that he had any choice – and Eric heard him ask when Charles would be coming. "When can he come?" Sookie asked.

"Right now." Eric motioned to the waitress who had brought Sookie's drink. "Tell Charles to come here," he told her.

She went through the silly ritual of bowing and saluting that so amused the customers. "Yes, Master."

Charles wasted no time in obeying, and he bowed to Sookie before he gave his attention to Eric.

"This woman will tell you what to do," said Eric, nodding across the table at Sookie. "As long as she needs you, she is your master."

"No, Eric!" Sookie protested. "If you make him answerable to anyone, it should be Sam."

Some other time he could explain to her that vampires were never answerable to shifters or Weres. "Sam sent you," he told her firmly in a voice he rarely used with her. Usually he didn't mind when she argued; often he enjoyed it. But this was a point on which he would not give way. "I'm entrusting Charles' direction to you."

Charles looked back and forth between them, then said cheerily, "Let me get my coat, and I'll be ready any time it pleases you to leave." He gave her a theatrical bow and a wink before he left them alone again.

A new song came on the radio station, and Eric looked across the table at Sookie. "Will you dance?" he asked.

She seemed hesitant as she looked out at the empty floor, but then she looked back at him and nodded. "Thank you."

He left his side of the booth and offered her his hand as she stood to join him. He led her out onto the floor a few steps, then took her waist in his free hand. Her white sweater was soft, and the sliver of skin between it and the top of her jeans was even softer. Her hair smelled good, as it usually did, and for one happy, distracted minute, he imagined her in the shower. All those smells rising up around her naked body in the steam…

She was happy in his arms. Though she seemed very deliberately to be avoiding eye contact, her blood could not lie to him. The song was much too short. He didn't want to let her go quite yet, and he didn't.

"Holding you seems very familiar, Sookie." Tell me about when I held you. Let me have that back.

She flushed, still not meeting his eyes, and pulled her hand out of his. "You wish." She backed away slightly. "By the way, have you ever run across a kind of mean-looking vampire named Mickey?"

In a flash her hand was in his again, though he loosened his grip when she cried out. He knew about Mickey, oh, yes. "He was in here last week. Where have you seen Mickey?" If the bastard laid a finger on Sookie, he would not be around to rise another night.

"In Merlotte's." Her eyes were wide with surprise and worry. "What's the deal?"

"What was he doing?" Eric pressed, ignoring her question for the moment.

Sookie shrugged. "Drinking Red Stuff and sitting at a table with my friend Tara. You know, you saw her at Club Dead in Jackson?"

Yes, he remembered Club Dead. He remembered the stake in her side. He remembered her dance with Tara. "When I saw her, she was under the protection of Franklin Mott."

"Well, they were dating," Sookie explained. "I can't understand why he'd let her go out with Mickey. I hoped maybe Mickey was just there as her bodyguard or something." He stood still, watching her intently as she walked back to the booth to get her coat. She returned to him with the coat draped over one arm. "So what's the bottom line on this guy?"

Eric laid a hand on her shoulder and willed her to listen to him for once. "Stay away from him," he said, emphasizing each word. "Don't talk to him. Don't cross him. And don't try to help your friend Tara. When he was here, Mickey talked mostly to Charles." Eric glanced at the bartender, then returned his intent gaze to Sookie. "Charles tells me he is a rogue. He's capable of…" Raping you, torturing you, draining you, killing you. "Things that are barbarous. Don't go around Tara." She raised her empty palms in a silent question. "He'll do things the rest of us won't."

"I can't just ignore her situation," Sookie protested with the headstrong virtue that could be the death of her. "I don't have so many friends that I can afford to let one go down the drain."

Better her than you. "If she's involved with Mickey, she's just meat on the hoof." He knew it was callous. He knew she wouldn't like it. But maybe it would make her think. He took her coat and held it up as she turned and slid both arms through the sleeves. Seeing her in it gave him pleasure. As she closed the front, he massaged her shoulders, craving any contact with her. Again she moved away from him. She turned around to face him, and he smiled down at her. "It fits well."

She nodded. "You got my thank-you note?"

"Of course." Eric, thank you so much for the coat. It's really beautiful, and I love it. "Very, ah… seemly." He wished she hadn't sent one at all. "I still wonder…" he said slowly, keeping his eyes on hers, "why your old coat had bloodstains on it." Her eyes flew up to meet his, and he felt her panic. "What did we do, Sookie? And to whom?" Did I kill Debbie Pelt? Did you?

"It was chicken blood. I killed a chicken and cooked it."

He had to smile. At least her lie was entertaining. "Sookie, Sookie." He shook his head at her, still smiling. "My bullshit meter is reading that as a false."

She stared at him a second, speechless, then gave in to laughter. But no further answer was forthcoming. "Goodbye, Eric," she said, shoving her hands into her coat pockets. "And thanks for the bartender."

He leaned to kiss her cheek as he had done before; perhaps his body would start to remember what his mind couldn't. "Drive safely and stay away from Mickey. I need to find out why he's in my territory." He glanced up at Charles, who was waiting for Sookie by the door. He was doubly glad now that Charles was going with her; Charles knew Mickey by sight. "Call me if you have any problems with Charles."

She smiled and nodded, but he knew as well as she did that she wouldn't abandon her friend. This was a woman who safe-guarded mentally damaged vampires in her home.

After Sookie left, Pam came to him with a pink "Missed Call" slip from Hot Rain. He crumpled it and threw it in the trash to join the others.

The next night he called Charles. "I trust all is going well so far," he said, not bothering with a greeting.

"Yes. Mr. Merlotte has provided me with blood, and though my sleeping quarters are uncomfortable, I--"

Eric growled low in his throat. "You aren't staying at Sookie's house?"

"She didn't want that. I was there when she told Sam. Was I supposed to stay at her house?"

"That is what I prefer, yes," Eric told him, leaning his head back and closing his eyes. Sookie had never made it easy to take care of her. "I want you to speak to the shifter and tell him that the arrangement isn't satisfactory." He paused while he decided how much to tell Charles. "I'm sure you must know that I didn't agree to this because I have any interest in helping Sam Merlotte."

A brief silence. "I suspected as much, sir," Charles finally replied.

"You remember Mickey, the vampire you told me about?"

"Yes."

"He has been seen in Bon Temps, and I don't want him anywhere near Sookie. I don't want her harmed in any way. So much as a papercut, and I will hold you personally responsible. You will, of course, be paid. Is that understood?"

"Understood, Mr. Northman. I will not allow any harm to come to your woman. You have my word."

He considered correcting Charles and explaining that Sookie was not yet his woman, but that seemed pointless. If the Englishman with his stilted gallantry thought of Sookie in this way, he would probably protect her all the more.

* * *

He was putting in a merchandise order when the fairy called. It had fallen on Pam to answer the phone because Eric had no interest in talking to Hot Rain, so it was she who opened his office door and told him to pick up the call from Claudine.

"Claudine?" he repeated.

Pam laid her manicured fingers over the receiver. "A fairy who knows Sookie. You met her while you were… you met her."

He frowned and picked up the phone on his desk. "Eric Northman." How did Sookie know a fairy?

"Good evening to you, Mr. Northman. Still as gorgeous as ever?"

"I certainly hope so. Tell me why you are calling."

"I think you should know that I had to save Sookie Stackhouse from a fire at her house last night," the fairy woman said. "I'm telling you this because there was a vampire staying there with her. I assume he was placed there to guard her. Am I wrong?"

"No. What were you doing there?"

Claudine gave an airy laugh. "Oh, that's nothing to concern yourself with, Sheriff. But I do suggest that you speak to Sookie's bodyguard. Good night!" She hung up on him before he could ask anything else.

Fucking pirate. Eric slammed the phone down, opened his office door to signal to Pam that he was leaving, and flew out. Rather than tempering his rage, the time it took to fly to Bon Temps only exacerbated it. When he landed at Merlotte's, he was furious. He barely glanced at Sookie when he entered. Charles was behind the bar, flirting with a fat woman in a too-tight dress.

"A word," Eric hissed through his already-extended fangs.

Charles straightened and moved away from his customer. "Master?"

"Where the fuck were you last night when she almost got burned alive? I was told that a fairy had to save her. A fairy, for fuck's sake."

"I – I was in the yard, sir. I ran out to catch the person who set the fire." Charles smiled slightly to show that his fangs were out as well. "And I did. I caught him and killed him."

"Perhaps you could tell me what purpose that would have served if my… if Sookie had died?"

"She was questioned by some investigators yesterday."

"What does that have to do with--"

"Hi, Eric!" came Sookie's voice from beside him. He didn't look at her, keeping his eyes narrowed on Charles. "How you doing?" she asked with feigned lightness. He felt her anxiety. "Is there anything I can help you with?"

He finally looked at her and was relieved to see that she seemed unharmed. "Yes. I need to talk to you, too."

"Then why don't you come with me? I was just going to step out back to take a break." She laid her hand on his arm, and he followed her outside, still seething. He was going to ask her if she had been hurt in any way, but she went on the attack. "You better not be about to tell me what to do. I've had enough of that for one day, and Bill's in here with a woman, and I lost my kitchen. I'm in a bad mood."

You're in a bad mood? "I care nothing about your mood," he snapped. "I pay Charles Twining to watch you and keep you safe, and who hauls you out of the fire? A fairy." He poured all of his disgust into the word. "While Charles is out in the yard, killing the fire setter rather than saving his hostess' life." He took a few paces back from her. "Stupid Englishman!"

Sookie cocked her head to the side and looked at him with confusion. "He's supposed to be here as a favor to Sam," she said slowly. "He's supposed to be here helping Sam out."

"Like I give a damn about a shifter," Eric scoffed. Are you really that blind? You can't be that blind. "There's something about you." He focused his eyes on hers as if he could see through them to her mind. "There is something I am almost on the verge of knowing about you, and it's under my skin, this feeling that something happened while I was cursed, something I should know about." He stepped close to her again and laid his hands on her shoulders. "Did we have sex, Sookie?" he asked, searching her face. "But I can't think that was it, or it alone. Something happened. Your coat was ruined with brain tissue. Did I kill someone, Sookie? Is that it?" Realization suddenly set in. "You're protecting me from what I did while I was cursed?" I don't care if I killed someone. I don't want protection from what I did. I don't want protection from what I felt or what I said.

She swallowed hard and stared up at him. "Eric, you did not kill anyone at my house that night." She started to say more, but she pressed her lips together and looked away.

"You have to tell me what happened," he said softly, almost pleading now. "I hate not knowing what I did." He slid his hands from her shoulders to her arms and drew her a little closer to him. "I've had a life longer than you can even imagine, and I remember every second of it, except for those days I spent with you."

"I can't make you remember. I can only tell you that you stayed with me for several days, and then Pam came to get you."

"I wish I could get in your head and get the truth out of you. You've had my blood. I can tell you're concealing things from me." Why, Sookie?She was shaking her head, refusing to acknowledge what he was saying to her – what he was asking of her. "I wish I knew who's trying to kill you." He frowned. "And I hear you had a visit from some private detectives. What did they want of you?" Were they looking for Debbie Pelt, the woman I – you – we killed?

"Who told you that?" she demanded, her eyes flashing.

He ignored her question. "Is this something to do with the woman who's missing, that bitch the Were loved so much?" Her face betrayed nothing, but her blood was telling him that he was on the right track. "Are you protecting him? If I didn't kill her, did he?" He tightened his grip on her arms without even realizing it. "Did she die in front of us?"

"Listen, you're hurting me!" she said, trying to shake him loose. "Let go!"

He eased his hold on her. "Tell me now." He knew as well as she did that he couldn't force his will on her. That he would never do it. But if she would allow herself to see his desperation…

There were tears shining in her eyes now. "You were so sweet when you didn't know who you were."

His hands fell away from her shoulders as he absorbed this. All I want is to know how I was, for fuck's sake! Now you throw it in my face while you still refuse to tell me? He gritted his teeth against the flood of anger that nearly overpowered him. Finally, he forced a smile. "Sweet?" he repeated.

She nodded and smiled, though her tears rather ruined the intended effect. "Very. We gossiped like old buddies," she said wistfully. Oh, Sookie, tell me... "You were scared and alone," she went on, "and you liked to talk to me." I have always liked to talk to you. You are the one who tries to avoid talking to me. "It was… fun having you around."

"Fun. I'm not fun now?"

"No, Eric," she sighed. "You're too busy being…" She waved her hand to indicate his person. "Yourself."

No being, human or vampire, could hurt him the way she could. It was this power she held over him that he found himself both hating and embracing. He brushed aside the insult, hoping that she would reveal more about their time together. "Is myself so bad?" he asked gently. "Many women seem to think not." That was an understatement. But she wasn't "many women." She was the only woman.

She smiled a little. "I'm sure they do."

Before he could reply, Sam Merlotte emerged from the building, limping with the help of his cane. "Sookie, are you all right?" he asked.

"Shifter, she doesn't need your assistance." Eric tore his eyes away from Sookie to look at Sam, who was regarding him silently. As much as he looked down on the animals, he had to acknowledge that Sam had a polite dignity that deserved respect. "I was rude," he admitted. "I'm on your premises. I'll be gone." He turned back to Sookie, who was wiping her tears with the back of her hand. "Sookie, we haven't finished this conversation, but I see this isn't the time or place."

She nodded. "I'll see you," she murmured.

He flew straight up into the air and returned to Fangtasia, where Pam was waiting in his office. Her raised eyebrows asked a question that he ignored.

Chapter Text

Eric closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, cursing Long Shadow and Hot Rain under his breath. The latter had sent yet another email with ridiculous demands that Eric had no intention of satisfying. He raised his head again and stared at the message, written in all capital letters, his finger hovering to click the "delete" button. Instead he clicked "reply" and stared at the empty box where his message – one which he would struggle to word in a polite way – would soon appear.

Merciful distraction came in the leather-clad form of Pam, who tapped briefly on his office door and let herself in. "Eric," she said with a shit-eating grin, "do you know what Sookie is telling me? Someone shot her." He knew by her manner that it was nothing serious. Pam was much too smart to make light of any real harm befalling Sookie. She laughed at Sookie's reply, then said, "Here is the man."

He took the phone and motioned for Pam to leave. "It can't be critical, or you wouldn't be talking to me," he said. And Pam would be staked instead of strutting out of the office in her three-inch heels.

"Eric… I need a favor."

"Really?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. He allowed himself to hope that she wanted his blood to help her heal, or that perhaps she would let him replace her car. Anything, everything, he would deny her nothing. He waited for her to elaborate, but she didn't. "Really?" he repeated. Another long pause, and he couldn't stop himself from laughing with heartfelt pleasure. "Gotcha."

He listened to her directions for her temporary apartment, hung up the phone, slammed his laptop shut, and flew to her. Rain was falling hard and fast, but it felt good. It struck him that she might need money to rebuild the parts of her house destroyed by fire. Even if she only wanted her hair combed, he was giddy at the prospect. Not only was she giving him the satisfaction of helping her; she was giving him the leverage to find out what he wanted to know. And he would use that leverage. Oh, yes.

She answered his knock promptly and looked up at him, puzzled, when he didn't enter. "New building," he explained. He could see that she was unharmed apart from a bandage on her shoulder, so it appeared unlikely that she wanted his blood.

Her mouth formed a silent "Oh!" as she stepped aside. "You are welcome to come in." She shut the door. "Can I get you a drink? I'm sorry, I don't have any TrueBlood, and I'm not supposed to drive, so I couldn't go get any."

What, then, did she intend for him to drink? It didn't matter. "Not important."

She motioned to the sofa. "Please sit down."

The couch was cheap and hard, but he made himself as comfortable as possible. He couldn't stop smiling. "What's the favor you need, Sookie?" he asked.

She half-sat, half-leaned against a mismatched chair across from him. "It's about Tara and Mickey," she began, hesitating when she saw his frown. "Franklin… gave her to him in that way you vamps do, and I just know he's going to kill her, Eric. It's only a matter of time."

"She could leave during the day, and she doesn't."

Sookie folded her arms across her chest. "Why should she leave her business and her home? He's the one should leave. Tara would be looking over her shoulder for the rest of her life if she tried to shake him loose by running."

She was right, of course. He studied the creases in her forehead as she frowned at him. So this was the favor. A favor for someone else. An easy favor because Franklin and Mickey were breaking the law.

"I've learned more about Franklin since I met him in Mississippi," he told her. "Franklin has an outdated mindset. Vampires used to pass willing humans around. When our existence was secret, it was convenient to have a human lover, to maintain that person…" He paused, searching for the right words. "That is, not to take too much blood. And then, when there was no one left who wanted her—or him – that person would be… completely used." Not to put too fine a point on it.

Her mouth twisted. "You mean drained."

"Sookie," he said gently, leaning forward, "you have to understand that for hundreds – thousands – of years, we have considered ourselves better than humans, separate from humans." How to put it in terms that could make sense to her? "Very much in the same relationship to humans as humans have to, say, cows. Edible like cows…" He grinned at her. "But cute, too."

Anger ripped through his blood like a wildfire; it was hers. "I'll just go to Bill," she snapped. "He knows Tara, and she rents her business premises from him, so I bet he'll feel obliged to help her."

"Yes, he'd be obliged to try to kill Salome's underling," Eric told her calmly. "Bill doesn't rank any higher than Mickey, so he can't order him to leave." He fixed his gaze on hers. "Who do you think would survive the fight?" Her anger cooled, replaced by fear, and he knew that she understood. He smiled at her in triumph. "No, I'm afraid I'm your best hope here, Sookie. I'll talk to Salome and ask her to call her dog off. Franklin is not her child, but Mickey is. Since he's been poaching in my area, she'll be obliged to recall him." His smile widened. "And since you're asking me to do this for you, of course, you owe me."

She rolled her eyes. "Gosh, I wonder what you want in return?"

I want what I should never have had to beg you for: the truth. "Tell me what happened while I was staying with you." He was nervous, he realized, and it made him feel foolish. It wasn't an anxious or fearful apprehension, but a giddy twist inside that made it difficult to sit still. "Tell me completely, leaving out nothing. After that, I'll do what you want."

She uncrossed her arms and rested her hands in her lap. They suddenly interested her very much because she wouldn't meet his eyes. "All right," she murmured.

Easy question first. "Did we have sex?"

"Eric, we had sex in every position I could imagine, and some I couldn't." A smile teased the corners of her mouth, and her face flooded with color. "We had sex in every room in my house, and we had sex outdoors. You told me it was the best you'd ever had." Now she allowed the smile to have its way. "Too bad you can't remember it."

Words failed him. Thoughts failed him. He didn't know how long he sat there in silence, staring at her. Was she toying with him? Taking advantage of an unpleasant situation, having a bit of fun? But he knew they had slept together; he knew there was more.

He waited for her to look at him, and he asked calmly, "Is there anything else I should know?"

"Um…" She swallowed. "Yes."

"Then perhaps you'll enlighten me." He knew his voice was cold, but it was the only safe emotion.

Sookie bit her lower lip, and again he lost her gaze as her eyes flitted away. "You offered to give up your position as sheriff and come to live with me and get a job."

The victim's memory will be erased. He will seek out his heart's desire but never know it if he finds it. Now he understood. The curse wasn't meant to be permanent. The curse was in the breaking of it, in the second loss of memory – the loss of the heart's desire. The pressure in the chest, the vacuum, the madness of trying to find what would fill the emptiness. Loss.

"Ah," he said at last. He threaded his fingers together. "Anything else?"

"Yes," she nodded, exhaling slowly. "When we came home that last night, the night we'd had the battle with the witches in Shreveport, we came in the back door, right, like I always do? And Debbie Pelt—you remember her." Oh, yes. "Alcide's… oh, whatever she was to him. Debbie was sitting at my kitchen table, and she had a gun and was gonna shoot me. But you threw yourself in front of me." She had found his eyes, and now she reached out to touch his knee, as if he were an obedient dog. "And you took the bullet," she continued, "which was really, really sweet of you. But she was going to shoot again, and I pulled out my brother's shotgun, and I killed her." Her breath caught on a gasp or a sob, and she raised her hand to her mouth. "I killed her." And rightly so, he was about to say when she motioned for him to let her finish. "We gathered up the body and bagged it, and you took it and buried her somewhere while I cleaned the kitchen. And you found her car and you hid it. I don't know where." She shook her head, still crying. "It took me hours to get the blood out of the kitchen. It was on everything."

"And now someone else has shot at you and I wasn't there to take the bullet. You must be living wrong." He was teasing her, but his voice was gentle. "Do you think the Pelt family is trying to get revenge?" he wondered aloud.

"No, they hired private detectives, and as far as I know, the private detectives didn't find any reason to suspect me any more than anyone else." She shrugged and launched into a rambling explanation that he didn't listen to.

"You're talking too much," he told her, not unkindly, when she paused for breath.

It struck him suddenly that Sookie had lost just as much as he had – perhaps even more, since she actually remembered it. Her reluctance to tell him the truth had not been cruelty, but a defense. He watched her in silence until she stopped crying. This version of himself that she had cared about and taken to her bed… how different was he, really? And if she had cared about him, why had she refused his offer to stay with her? Or did she refuse?

"I told you I would leave everything for you?" he asked. Her only reply was a short, derisive laugh, which he ignored. "And how did you respond?"

"You couldn't just stay with me, not remembering," she said in a quiet voice. "That wouldn't be right." She had held him in the palm of her hand, but she had refused the power of taking his life away. "Sooo…" she trailed off, looking tired and sad. "I did your favor. Now you do mine."

If he had one virtue, it was being true to his word. He called Salome, whose human secretary answered. No, he didn't have just one virtue. He had at least two. Being true to his word, and charm. He laid it on thick and without shame. The business was done in a matter of minutes, and he couldn't keep from grinning as he idly juggled his phone.

Sookie was frowning. "You knew Mickey and Franklin were doing something wrong to start with. You knew their boss would be glad to find out they were breaking the rules, since her vamp was violating your territory. So this won't affect you at all."

Sookie, this has affected me in more ways than you will ever know. He held on to his grin. "I only realized that when you told me what you wanted. How could I know that your heart's desire would be for me to help someone else?" He spoke the words "heart's desire" without thinking, and it caused him physical pain. He hadn't expected that.

"What did you think I wanted?" she asked, her lips turned into something very much like a pout.

My blood, my assistance. Me. "I thought maybe you wanted me to pay for rebuilding your house, or you would ask me to help find out who's shooting the Weres… someone who could have mistaken you for a Were. Who had you been with before you were shot?"

"I'd been to visit Calvin Norris."

Filthy shifters. Especially filthy in Hot Shot. "So you had his smell on you."

"Well, I gave him a hug goodbye, so yeah," she nodded, tucking some hair behind her ear.

"Had Alcide Herveaux been there?" Now that his bitch was dead, no doubt he would try to win Sookie. Let him try.

Again she nodded. "He came by the house site."

Jealousy, an emotion so foreign to him for so long that he didn't immediately recognize it, clawed at him. "Did he hug you, too?"

"I don't remember. It's no big deal."

It is for me. "It is for someone looking for shifters and Weres to shoot," he pointed out. "And you are hugging too many people."

She ignored that. "Maybe it was Claude's smell. Gosh, I didn't think of that. No, wait, Claude hugged me after the shooting, so I guess the fairy smell didn't matter."

A fairy? "A fairy." He licked his lips. "Come here, Sookie."

She turned her nose up at him. "No. I told you what you wanted, you did what I asked, and now you can go back to Shreveport and let me get some sleep." She lightly touched her injury. "Remember?"

No, I don't remember. I don't remember the feel of your body against mine, I don't remember the way you said my name when I moved in you, I don't remember feeling something so strongly that I wanted to give up everything for you, I don't remember hiding Debbie Pelt's car, I don't remember what made you the best I ever had.

He ran his tongue over his fangs. "Then I'll come to you." An instant later he was at her feet, his body against hers, his nose pressed to the curve of her neck. He was still wet with rain, but she didn't seem to mind. He smelled all of them on her, the three men who had touched her today. "You reek. You smell of shifter and Were and fairy. A cocktail of other races." Other men. He raised his head slightly until his mouth was next to her ear. Only an inch, and he could have her earlobe between his teeth. He closed his eyes. "Should I just bite you and end it all? I would never have to think about you again." If only it were that easy. He wasn't a fool. "Thinking about you is an annoying habit, and one I want to be rid of." The blood pounding through her neck was fast and strong, full of desire. She wanted him. "Or should I start arousing you?" he murmured, allowing his lips to brush the shell of her ear for less than a second, "and discover if sex with you was really the best I've ever had?" He knew which option he preferred, and he set about doing it.

Her voice caught in her throat, and she laid a hand on his chest. "Eric, we need to talk about something," she breathed.

"No," he said, kissing her temple. Then a spot on her neck, just below that delicious earlobe, called to him. "No." And then the earlobe itself… he kissed it, too. "No." Don't fight me, Sookie.

"Eric," she said again, and he knew that this time she was serious. "Someone's watching us."

Fuck. "Where?" he asked, his lips still brushing her ear.

Her desire was fading rapidly into fear. "It's a vampire," she whispered.

He slid his arms around her and held her to him, torn between his desire for her and his desire to rip off Mickey's head. No reason he couldn't do both. He smiled, even though he knew she couldn't see him. "You're so much trouble."

The hand she had placed on his chest to stop him before now curled as her fingers grasped his shirt. "Mickey…" she said, still in a whisper.

"Salome moved more quickly than I thought." He had to admire her efficiency. "He's too angry to obey her, I suppose. He's never been in here, correct?"

"Correct," she replied.

"Then he can't come inside."

She tightened her grip on his shirt. "But he can break the window--"

As if to prove her point, the window closest to them was shattered when a rock came hurtling through. Eric's head was still to the side of hers, and the rock slammed into his temple. He rocked back from Sookie slightly, dazed, then fell to her other side, in front of the chair. The room was spinning, but he held on to consciousness.

"Invite me in," Mickey snarled.

Eric struggled to focus his vision as Sookie knelt beside him. She was looking up and over the back of the chair. "Of course not," she said to the angry vampire outside.

"I'll kill her if you don't let me in."

So the bastard had Sookie's friend with him. Eric heard thunder and a woman's desperate cries. Blood. He needed blood. He grabbed Sookie's nearest arm with both hands.

She didn't look at him, but he knew she was talking to him. "Do it," she said under her breath.

No time to take pleasure in it for himself; no time to make it pleasant for her. He sank his fangs deep into her wrist and tore the flesh back a little. To her credit, Sookie barely flinched, and she held her wrist still as he sucked her blood desperately. Her sweet, rich blood.

"Let her go!" she demanded, glaring out at Mickey.

"I'll let her go when you let me in. How's your tame vamp doing?"

Eric growled low in his throat and sucked harder.

"He's still out. You hurt him bad." She looked down at him, her eyes full of genuine fear. A few more moments, my Sookie. "I can see his skull! He can't even open his eyes!" She was quite the actress, and he met her eyes in an effort to convey his pride in her. He could feel that she was about to pull her arm away.

Taking his mouth away from her torn skin, he rasped, "Not yet…"

But at the moment he spoke the words, Sookie was saying, "Fine, come in, just let her go!" She met his eyes again. "Oops."

Shit, he thought as he quickly sealed Sookie's ugly wound with his tongue. His body still wasn't obeying yet. Too much blood lost. He could only watch and listen helplessly as Mickey stormed in and dropped Sookie's friend on the glass-covered floor.

Sookie had risen slightly, bracing herself on the chair. "What do you want?"

"Your head, bitch. Get down on your knees to your betters!"

Mickey hit her hard, and Eric watched with enraged helplessness as she fell back against the sofa where he'd been sitting earlier. Then she sank to the floor in front of it. He barely heard her soft moan of pain. Mickey crossed the room like lightning and threw himself on top of her, his hand at the fly of his pants.

No, Eric thought, fury engulfing every other thought. NO.

Mickey was sneering down at Sookie as he tried to force her hands up over her head. "This is all you're good for!"

Eric blinked slowly and held on to his consciousness like a drowning man to a life raft. He felt the wound at his temple closing – about fucking time – and his head was clearing from the blood loss. Mickey had approximately one minute left to enjoy his undead life. It would ruin Eric's friendly relationship with Salome, but it was entirely worth it.

But Sookie had never been a damsel in distress. "No! No!" Her chest rose up from the floor as she breathed in deeply. "Your invitation is rescinded!"

And backwards Mickey went. Eric raised himself to his elbows as the other vampire tried to grab Tara on his way out, but Sookie had jumped up and thrown herself at her friend, holding on to her as Mickey was pulled out of the window and back into the rain. He vanished. For a moment the only sound was the storm outside, now louder because of the broken window. Then Sookie's breaths started coming in gasps. Her friend was still passed out.

Eric rose to his full height and looked down at Sookie. "That was clearer thinking than most humans can manage. How are you, Sookie?" He offered his hand to help her up, and she accepted it, though she didn't answer his question. "I myself am feeling much better." She still looked very shaken, so he smiled at her fondly. "I've had your blood without having to talk you into it, and I didn't have to fight Mickey. You did all the work."

"You got hit in the head with a rock."

"A small price to pay." He meant it. Now to tell Salome that her little boy had been naughty. He called her again, explained briefly, and repocketed his phone.

Sookie rubbed her hands briskly over her arms. "Salome'll catch him?"

He nodded. "And she can do things to him more painful than anything I could imagine, though I can imagine plenty right now." The thought of that fucker on top of Sookie…

"She's that… uh, creative?" she asked, eyes wide.

"He's hers," Eric replied simply. "She's his sire. She can do with him what she wishes. He can't disobey her and go unpunished. He has to go to her when she calls him, and she's calling."

A wry smile tipped the corners of her mouth. "Not on the phone, I take it?"

"No, she won't need a phone. He's trying to run away, but he'll go to her eventually." He retracted his fangs and glanced at the broken window. "The longer he holds out, the more severe his torture will be." His eyes found hers again. "Of course, that's as it should be."

Sookie shivered and knelt down by her friend, gingerly touching the angry wounds on Tara's neck. "Pam is yours, right?" she asked.

"Yes. She's free to leave when she wants, but she comes back when I let her know I need her help." In truth, Pam didn't want to be anywhere else. She had sounded delighted on the day he called her to join him in Shreveport.

At his feet, Tara was stirring and coming back to consciousness. Sookie touched her friend's cheek. "Wake up, girl. Tara?" She started to move away. "I'm gonna call an ambulance for you."

"No!" Tara grasped Sookie's arm. "No…"

"But you're bad hurt," Sookie protested.

Tara shook her head. Strands of her wet hair were plastered to her bloody face. "I can't go to the hospital. Everyone will know."

Oh, for fuck's sake.

"Everyone will know someone beat the shit out of you when you can't go to work for a couple of weeks, you idiot," Sookie said sternly.

"You can have some of my blood," he heard himself say. Where that came from, he didn't know. An impulse to help Sookie? An impulse to please her?

"No." Tara's face twisted with disgust. "I'd rather die."

The bitch clearly had no idea what she had just refused so rudely. If she hadn't been Sookie's friend…

"You might," Sookie told her. "Oh, but you've had blood from Franklin or Mickey."

No, Sookie, she hasn't. Vampires like Franklin and Mickey did not share their blood with humans – especially not humans as ordinary as Tara appeared to be. Did Sookie still not understand what it meant when he gave his blood to her? What it had meant just now for him to offer it to Tara?

He couldn't decide if Tara looked more repulsed or shocked at Sookie's assumption. "Of course not!"

"Then you have to go to the hospital," said Sookie resolutely. Tara shook her head again and began trying to sit up. Eric refused to help her. "I'm scared for you to move…"

She managed to prop herself against the wet wall like a rag doll while Eric continued to glare down at her. Because of this pathetic piece of trash, Sookie had almost been raped. She could have been killed.

Unable to bite back his anger any longer, he said, "Tara, listen to me. Your greed and selfishness put my..." What was she, exactly? His…? Simply his. Everything. "My friend Sookie in danger. You say you're her friend, too, but you don't act like it."

Sookie's mouth gaped, and he felt her anger. "Eric," she hissed, "this isn't any of your business."

This is entirely my business. You are my business. He tried to force down some of his rage; if he didn't, he would hurt Tara and only further upset Sookie. "You called me and asked me for my help," he pointed out. "That makes it my business. I called Salome and told her what her child was doing, and she's taken him away to punish him for it." His voice had been building, and he evened it. He would not take this out on her. "Isn't that what you wanted?" he asked, more gently.

She sighed. "Yes."

"Then I'm going to make my point with Tara." Once again he focused his attention on the wet, bleeding, pitiful woman. He tried to see her as Sookie saw her: a friend worth risking her life for. He couldn't see it. His voice when he addressed her, though, was calmer. "Do you understand me?"

Tara nodded, and Sookie jumped to her feet. "I'm getting some ice for your throat," she said.

While she was gone, Eric quickly examined Tara to see if she actually needed the hospital or his blood. She did not. Now for that broken window, which was much more important. Once again he took out his cell phone. There was only one number to dial, and that was the vampire who was closest and most willing to help.

"Eric?" Bill answered.

"Yes. I want you at Sookie's new apartment immediately. We need to board up a broken window."

"Is she hurt?"

"Would I be talking to you if she were?" Eric asked, watching as Sookie offered the bag of ice to Tara.

"I'll be right there."

They hung up at the same time, and Eric shoved the phone back in his pocket. Sookie and Tara were still arguing about the hospital. "She'll heal without going to the hospital," he assured her with a wave of his hand.

"But will she have some permanent damage?" Sookie fretted as she looked back and forth between them. "Something doctors could fix if she got to them quick?"

He shook his head. "I'm fairly certain that her throat is only badly bruised. She has some broken ribs from the beating, possibly some loose teeth. Mickey could have broken her jaw and her neck very easily, you know. He probably wanted her to be able to talk to you when he brought her here, so he held back a little. He counted on you panicking and letting him in." He counted on you trying to save your friend when I explicitly told you not to. "He didn't think you could gather your thoughts so quickly. If I'd been him, my first move would have been to damage your mouth or neck so you couldn't rescind my entrance. When he backhanded you, I think that was what he was aiming for."

Judging by Sookie's pale face, she was taken aback by his frank explanation of Mickey's plan… no, she was taken aback that all of this seemed obvious and logical to him. I am what I am. He was about to reach for her, but she disappeared and reappeared with a broom and dustpan, both of which she shoved into his hands. She expected him to… sweep? He raised an eyebrow at her.

She began dabbing a washcloth over Tara's forehead. "Sweep up," she told him after he had stood there for a few long seconds.

His body started to obey her before his mind had fully processed that he was, in fact, performing a menial chore at the command of a human. By the time his mind did catch up, he was surprised to realize that it didn't particularly bother him. He placed the dustpan in the middle of the floor and began pushing shards of glass towards it. But the fucking thing kept moving backwards. He couldn't hold the pan still and sweep at the same time because he was too tall. Sookie had helped Tara to her feet, sending a small shower of glass over an area he had just swept. Well, fuck.

The two women started hobbling away, but Sookie was too sore and weak to hold up Tara. In a flash, he abandoned the sweeping farce and scooped Tara into his arms. Since he was in control of this, Tara would most certainly not be sleeping in Sookie's bed. The couch was good enough for her. Too good. He set her down carefully and glared across the room at Sookie when he saw that she was about to argue. She wisely decided against it and disappeared into the kitchen. She returned with medicine for Tara, and the latter was asleep in no time at all.

Bill would be arriving at any time, so Eric grinned as he passed the sweeping job back to Sookie. He paced as she swept the rest of the glass shards, distracting himself with memories of Dallas and the glass he had removed from her arm. There was Bill; Eric heard him tromping noisily to the door with the supplies. He opened the door before Sookie had even realized someone was there. Bill entered after Sookie gave him the necessary invitation, and Eric helped him board up the broken window. They had nothing to say to each other. Sookie was just as quiet as she started to mop the floor.

Suddenly, for no reason at all, Sookie covered her mouth to stifle a giggle. "This is amusing?" Bill asked with a confused frown.

Eric cocked his head to the side as she looked from Bill to him and laughed louder. "We are amusing?"

She nodded and doubled over, still looking back and forth between them. If she had to fall into hysteria, which was certainly understandable, at least it was laughter instead of sobbing. She had been through enough today, and it was time for her to rest.

"Sookie," he said, giving her a significant look, "we haven't finished our discussion."

She shook her head. "Oh, yes, we have. I asked you for a favor: releasing Tara from her bondage to Mickey. You asked me for payment for that favor: telling you what happened when you lost your memory. You performed your side of the bargain, and so did I. Bought and paid for. The end."

It wasn't often that someone could strike him dumb, but here he was, unable to respond. Bill had stiffened beside him; did he know, then, what Sookie had revealed earlier? Sookie gave one last laugh and leaned forward slightly on the mop. Bloody, muddy water seeped out onto the floor. Her little manic episode had passed, replaced by weariness.

"Good night, both of you," she told them in a voice that was both soft and firm. "Thanks, Eric, for taking that rock in the head, and for sticking to your phone throughout the evening." That's it? "Thanks, Bill, for turning out so late with window repair supplies. I appreciate it, even if you got volunteered by Eric." She made one last swipe with the mop and set it down in the bucket with a slosh. "Shoo," she said, waving her hands at them as if they were chickens. "I have to go to bed. I'm all worn out."

"Shouldn't one of us stay here with you tonight?" Bill asked, obviously hoping to be the one.

She shook her head. "I think I'll be fine. Eric assures me that Salome will scoop up Mickey in no time, and I need sleep more than anything." She attempted a smile, but it collapsed. "I appreciate both of you coming out tonight."

Eric stepped up to her and bent to kiss her forehead. He stayed outside the small apartment for several more hours, listening to the drip, drip of wet leaves. Satisfied that she was safe from Mickey, he flew back to Shreveport shortly before dawn.

Chapter Text

He tried to contact Charles the following night, intending to demand an explanation for why the useless pirate had failed yet again to protect Sookie. There was no answer. Frowning, he tapped an ink pen on his desk as he thought. Russell Edgington had told him next to nothing about Charles, and the folder of angry emails from Hot Rain, the fire at Sookie's house, the recent shootings… He dialed Bill Compton.

"Hello, Eric," Bill answered. He was polite, but there was an edge to his voice.

"Bill, I want you to look up a vampire in your database. Charles. Is he there now?"

"No, he's working at the bar."

"I want to know as much of his history as you can find – especially if that history connects him in any way with a vampire named Hot Rain."

"You mean Long Shadow's sire?"

"The very one."

"I'll do my best." Bill hesitated. "Does this have anything to do with what happened to Sookie?"

Pam had walked in and shut the door behind her, and Eric motioned for her to wait. "That's what I'm trying to find out," he told Bill. "And as soon as possible."

"Of course. I'll call you back when I know something."

Eric hung up the phone and smiled at Pam, who was practically bursting with glee. "I'm almost afraid to ask…" he said with a short laugh.

She walked around his desk and perched on top of it to face him. "You said to come up with a new product, and have I ever got one." He matched her grin with one of his own, raising an eyebrow for her to continue. "A vampire calendar," she went on. "Fangtasia's Vampire Hunks. You would be in it, and Chow, and maybe Bill, and Charles. I was thinking a nude calendar, but maybe not totally nude, you know, or some of the tourists will be too prudish to buy it. What do you think?"

"You expect me to pose semi-nude in a calendar?" he asked, leaning back in his chair until it creaked.

"Yes, I do, Mr. January."

He laughed aloud at that. "Why not February for Valentine's Day? Or December for Yule? Save the best for last."

"I think the area's best…" - she paused to give him a positively wicked smirk – "…assets should be on display at the front of the calendar."

"Am I mistaken, or did you just refer to me, the Sheriff of Area 5, as an asset?"

She jumped off the desk and opened the office door, then looked back over her shoulder. "Just part of you."

The phone rang just as she shut the door behind her, and he pounced on it. "Bill?"

"This is the office of Queen Sophie-Anne Leclerq calling for Eric Northman," said a formal male voice on the other line.

"Speaking."

"There is to be a summit of leaders of the Southern states in March, precise dates and location still to be announced, at which the Queen desires your presence."

Eric made a face which the caller, fortunately, could not see. "I am at the Queen's disposal," he said. "Am I required to bring anyone with me? My second, perhaps, or other prominent vampires in the area?"

"You will be informed of that at a later date." The voice obviously didn't give a shit.

"Very well. The Queen can be certain of my attendance."

* * *

Bill didn't call back that night or the next, and Eric was holding on to his last shreds of patience. On the third night, at last, the phone call came.

"I don't think you're going to like this," Bill said.

"I don't like most things you say, Bill. Continue."

"I've learned most of his history, but none of that's important. You asked me to find a possible connection to Hot Rain. Twining is actually pledged to Hot Rain."

"Shit. Fuck."

"Twining's maker was the child of Hot Rain. When his maker died in the French and Indian War, he pledged himself to Hot Rain."

"Are you anywhere near Bon Temps?"

"I'm in Monroe tonight to--"

Eric hung up on him and dialed Merlotte's. Charles answered. Fuck. He slammed the phone down and practically flew to his office door. "Bubba!" he called out into the bar. Bubba lumbered over from where he'd been chatting with Pam. "Go to Bon Temps immediately and tell Sookie that he's not what he seems. Understand? Tell her he's a hit man."

"Who, Mr. Eric?"

"She'll know." Bubba could never be given too much information.

The phone call to Hot Rain was one of the least pleasant things he'd had to do in his long life. He demanded an explanation and promised payment. When the conversation ended, he felt as though Mickey had thrown another rock at his head. Sookie had been targeted because of him. Sookie had been targeted because her death was understood to be the thing that would hurt him more than anything else. He couldn't discern what troubled him more: the assumption on Hot Rain's part or the fact that it was true.

Bubba ambled in soon after Eric finished with Hot Rain. "I gave her the message, but I don't think she understood, Mr. Eric," he said.

He shot up from his desk chair. "What do you mean she didn't understand?"

"I--"

Without waiting to hear the rest, he raced out of his office through the back door and flew to Bon Temps. Once inside Merlotte's, he looked wildly around for Sookie. There she was. He silently thanked every god he didn't believe in as he grabbed her by the waist.

"Sookie, are you all right?" She winced and recoiled, and he loosened his hands. "You're hurt." Some of the bar patrons were standing around him and Sookie in a protective arc, but he ignored them.

She forced a smile. "I'm just sore. Everything's fine." She looked around at the men standing guard. "This here's my friend Eric. He's been trying to get in touch with me, and now I know why it was so urgent." After reassuring each one of her defenders with a significant look, she turned back to him. "Let's us go sit and talk."

"Where is he?" he demanded. "I will stake the bastard myself, no matter what Hot Rain sends against me."

"It's been taken care of. Will you chill?"

He bit his tongue to keep himself from telling her that no, he would not chill. He clenched and unclenched his fists while she asked Sam if they could sit in his office. By the time they reached the small, cluttered room, he had calmed. Sookie was quiet, clearly waiting for an explanation, and he gave it.

"Why would killing me cancel the debt?" she asked.

He could lie.

No, he thought, looking into her eyes. He could not lie to her. He didn't even want to.

He spoke slowly, choosing his words with care. "Because he decided after listening to gossip and much reconnoitering that you were… important to me, and that your death would wound me the way Long Shadow's had him."

Do you understand what I'm telling you, Sookie?

"Ah." She swallowed and looked away. He saw various emotions play across her face before she faced him again. "So Hot Rain and Long Shadow were doing the deed, once upon a time?"

No, you don't understand.

"Yes," he acknowledged, "but it wasn't the sexual connection. It was the…" Whatever the fuck it is that I feel for you, you maddening woman."The… affection. That was the valuable part of the bond."

If she finally understood what he was telling her, she gave no sign of it. "So because this Hot Rain decided the fine you paid him for Long Shadow's death just didn't give him closure, he sent Charles to do something equally painful to you."

"Yes," he nodded.

"And Charles got to Shreveport, kept his ears open, found out about me, decided my death would fill the bill." She looked nonplussed.

"Apparently."

"So he heard about the shootings, knew Sam is a shifter, and shot Sam so there'd be a good reason for him to come to Bon Temps."

"Yes."

She crossed her arms and frowned. "That's real, real complicated. Why didn't Charles just jump me some night?"

Humans were often so blind to the very necessary precautions that vampires had to take to avoid being scapegoated, hunted down, or even staked. "Because he wanted it to look like an accident," he explained. "He didn't want blame attached to a vampire at all, because not only did he not want to get caught, he didn't want Hot Rain to incur any penalty."

"He set fire to my house, not that poor Marriot guy," she said, more to herself than to him. "I bet Charles killed him before the bar even closed that night and brought him back to my house so he'd take the blame. After all, the guy was a stranger to Bon Temps. No one would miss him." Her hand suddenly flew to her mouth. "Oh my God! Charles borrowed my keys! I bet the man was in my trunk! Not dead, but hypnotized." Eric watched her pace a few steps away. "Charles planted that card in the guy's pocket." She shook her head. "The poor fella wasn't a member of the Fellowship of the Sun anymore than I am."

A few of the men from the bar walked by to check on Sookie – not very subtly. He was pleased to see that the locals looked out for her, but they annoyed him nonetheless.

"It must have been frustrating for Charles when he found you were surrounded by friends."

"Yes," she said, smiling, "must have been."

He was surprised by how relaxed and light she seemed. She had, after all, nearly been killed. Had she grown so accustomed to her life being in danger? He knew he should be happy that she was so resilient, but the thought of her becoming numb to such terrible experiences troubled him.

"You seem better than I expected. Less traumatized, as they say now."

She leaned back against Sam's desk and sighed. "Eric, I'm a lucky woman. Today I've seen more bad stuff than you can imagine. All I can think is, I escaped." She gave him a half-hearted smile. "By the way, Shreveport now has a new packmaster, and he's a lying, cheating bastard."

Fighting the urge to reply that all Weres were bastards, he gave a more judicious response. "Then I take it Jackson Herveaux lost his bid for the job." As much as he could be expected to respect an animal, he respected the Herveaux family. Sookie's shifter boss had also earned his begrudging respect.

"Lost more than that," Sookie said softly, her face going a little white.

"So the contest was today. I'd heard Quinn was in town. Usually he keeps transgressions to a minimum."

"It wasn't his choice. A vote went against Jackson. It should have helped him, but it didn't." She looked away from him and closed her eyes.

Fuck, did that mean… "Why were you there?" he demanded. "Was that blasted Alcide trying to use you for some purpose in the contest?"

She laughed and rolled her eyes. "You should talk about using."

"Yes," he said, rather wounded, "but I'm straightforward about it." I don't lie to you.

"True."

As much as he liked to see her laugh, there was still the matter of Charles. "So, I'm to understand that Charles Twining is no more?" He had made amends with Hot Rain, but this would cost him even more. No need to tell her that. If the good citizens of Bon Temps hadn't staked the fucker, he would have done it himself.

"That's correct," she said.

"Well, well." He grinned. "The people here are unexpectedly enterprising. What damage have you suffered?"

She touched her side and winced. "Broken rib."

"A broken rib is not much when a vampire is fighting for his life," he told her admiringly.

"Correct again."

For a moment he considered offering her his blood, but he knew quite well that she would refuse. Their business here seemed to be done. "When Bubba got back and I found he hadn't exactly delivered his message, I rushed here gallantly to rescue you." He smiled ruefully. "I had tried calling the bar tonight to tell you to beware, but Charles answered the phone every time."

"It was gallant of you in the extreme, but, as it turns out, unnecessary," she said. There was an undeniable fondness in the way she looked at him, even if she was teasing.

"Well, then." He braced his arms on the side of his chair and leaned forward. "I'll go back to my own bar and look at my own bar patrons from my own office." He was about to stand when he remembered something else he could talk to her about, and he grinned. "We're expanding our Fangtasia product line."

"Oh?"

"Yes." His grin widened even more. "What would you think of a nude calendar?" Her eyebrows shot up, and her face flooded with delicious color. "Fangtasia's Vampire Hunks is what Pam thinks it should be called."

She returned his smile. "Are you gonna be in it?"

"Oh, of course. Mr. January."

"Well," she said, laughing, "put me down for three. I'll give one to Arlene and one to Tara, and I'll put one up on my own wall."

"If you promise to keep it open to my picture, I'll give you one for free." He winked at her.

"You got a deal."

He stood up and shoved his hands in his pockets. Something else… anything else… "One more thing before I go." She stopped leaning on the desk and stood facing him, waiting. "I may need to hire you in early March."

"I'll check my calendar," she said with a hint of sarcasm. "What's up?"

"There's going to be a little summit," he replied. "A meeting of the kings and queens of some of the Southern states. The location hasn't been settled, but when it is, I wonder if you can get time off from your job here to accompany me and my people."

She shook her head and looked suddenly tired. "I can't think that far ahead just at the moment, Eric."

She took a few steps towards the door, but he didn't want to let her go. "Wait one moment."

He dashed in front of her and looked down into her face. It was impossible not to kiss her, so he did, briefly and gently. Why are you my heart's desire? he wanted to ask her, as if she could possibly know the answer to that question. Why do I want you? Why do I crave not only your blood and your body but your presence, your conversation, your time? What made you the best I ever had?

"You said I told you you were the best I'd ever had." He touched her neck, allowing his fingertips to drift over her skin. "But did you respond in kind?"

With one arched eyebrow, she slipped past him. "Don't you wish you knew?"

He followed her out of the office, back into the bar, and stared after her. When she turned to look at him, there were tears in her eyes. Apparently, remembering was no easier than forgetting.

Chapter Text

The next weeks were nothing but monotony, broken only by his final dealings with Hot Rain – for which he had had to contact Sookie again briefly – and the photo shoot for the Fangtasia calendar. The latter had proven to be more enjoyable than expected. Now he was busy with final arrangements for the summit. He hadn't occupied his usual place in the bar for some time, and some nights he wasn't there at all. It was on one of those nights that he called Pam and told her to arrange a meeting with Sookie on Friday evening. At last, the queen had given him more details to pass along to Sookie and the others who would be attending with the Area 5 delegation.

He had avoided thinking of Sookie as much as possible. As it turned out, however, it wasn't often possible. The knowledge of their relationship during his lost week was like the skeleton of a building. He knew some of the facts, but there were no walls, no roof, no door. Only unpainted beams and bent nails that formed a rough framework good enough for no one to occupy.

He missed her.

His cell phone started vibrating and inching over the wood on his desk, and the name PAM glowed blue on the screen. He looked away from his work and flipped the phone open. "All is arranged, I trust."

"Not even close," she replied, not bothering to disguise the glee in her voice. Pam was nothing if not sadistic.

He clenched the fist of his free hand. "Why not?"

"She has a date on Friday night."

"Don't fuck with me, Pam."

"I'm not!" she protested. "She told me she has a date. And she said to tell you that if you want to talk to her, you need to call her or visit her – and I quote – your ownself." A silence stretched between them for several seconds before she added, "And she said to thank you for the calendar."

He would need a new phone, he realized a split-second after he slammed his against the desk and heard the plastic casing crack. Fuck her.Fuck her. She was only a human. In several decades she would join all the others rotting in the ground. She was nothing.

He shook his head and laughed at himself. Bullshit.

If she wanted to see him in person, she would. On the night of her date.

* * *

She answered his knock promptly, all dressed up for her date, her face beaming… for someone else. She gasped when she saw him standing there instead.

"May I come in?" He knew he was pressing his lips into a thin line, but that was better than any alternatives he could think of at the moment. "I suppose you're expecting company."

Her nose flew up into the air with the disdainful expression he knew so well. "As a matter of fact, I am. And actually, I'd rather you stayed on that side of the doorsill." She backed away from the door, out of the reach of his arms.

Did she imagine that he would reach in, snatch her, and kidnap her? It only served to irritate him more. "You told Pam that you didn't want to come to Shreveport, so here I am, to find out why you don't answer my call." And to find out who your date is.

"I didn't have time," she told him with an apathetic shrug. "I'm going out tonight."

He looked her over again. Whoever this date was, she had taken time to get ready for him. She looked beautiful. "So I see. Who are you going out with?"

She crossed her arms. "Is that really any of your business?"

For a few seconds he stood there dumbly, taken aback by the question. The nerve of it… the lack of feeling… the outrage. It was taking more and more effort to bite back his anger. He met her eyes evenly. "Of course it is." She knew it was. She would have to be either heartless or blind not to know it.

"And that would be why?" she asked, lifting one eyebrow in defiance.

Did she really need to know that, or was she only trying to give him a difficult time? "You should be mine," he said with as much gentleness as he could muster under the circumstances. "I have slept with you, I have cared for you, I have…" He cast about for something more; he knew there was something more. "…Assisted you financially," he heard himself say. That wasn't it.

Her chest swelled, and he knew she was taking in the breath she needed for a tirade. He braced himself – not against the pain it might cause, but against his own fury. There was fire in her eyes.

"You paid me money you owed me for services rendered," she said, her voice icy. "You may have slept with me, but not recently, and you've shown no signs of wanting to do so again." Her mouth twisted into a bitter smile. "If you care for me, you're showing it in a mighty strange way. I never heard that total avoidance aside from orders coming from flunkies was a valid way to show caring."

Unable to help himself, he smiled a little at the thought of Pam's face if she could have heard this. "You're calling Pam a flunky?" Then it was as if her words sank in, every one of them untrue and skewed. "I do not have to hang around you to show you," he told her in a low voice. "I am Sheriff. You…" He realized that he had gotten himself entirely off the subject – the reason why she should be his – and onto the original subject of his phone call and visit. "You are in my retinue," he finished lamely.

She narrowed her eyes. "Your… retinue?" she hissed. "Well, up you and your retinue! You don't tell me what to do!"

His pent-up anger and frustration seemed to batter against every inch of his skin from the inside. He clenched his fists and released the tension by digging his nails into his palms. "You are obliged to go with me to the conference. That was why I called you to Shreveport… to talk to you about travel time and arrangements."

"I'm not obliged to go anywhere with you," she said, looking nonplussed. "You got outranked, buddy."

"Buddy?" he repeated. He felt his palms rehealing, only to press his nails into them again. Behind him, a car rolled down the gravel drive that he had paid for, carrying a man who wanted to steal Sookie. His fangs had extended. "Buddy?"

A car door, footsteps, and there was the man: the tiger, John Quinn. A shifter? A fucking shifter? A bastard with purple eyes and too much cologne. A bastard whose lips might very well be on Sookie's later tonight.

"Hello, Eric," said Quinn with a nod, then both men looked at the woman in front of them. "Sookie, you look good enough to eat."

She smiled at her date. "You look very nice, too."

Her heart had quickened; there was a new flush in her cheeks, and it wasn't anger. She wanted Quinn. Her desire for him was like a poison in Eric's blood, so strong he could almost taste it like gall in his mouth. Was this the man who had "outranked" him, then? Surely Sookie knew that a filthy shifter could never outrank a vampire – especially not a vampire sheriff.

"What have you been telling Sookie, Quinn?" he asked. He knew his voice sounded strained, but he hardly cared.

Quinn seemed as calm as if Eric had asked about the weather. "I've been telling Sookie that the queen requires Sookie's presence at the conference as part of her party, and that the queen's summons supercedes yours."

"Since when has the queen given orders through a shifter?" he scoffed.

"Since this shifter performed a valuable service for her in the line of business." Still relaxed. Eric wondered if the tiger would be so relaxed if his head was ripped off at the seams. "Mr. Cataliades suggested to Her Majesty that I might be helpful in a diplomatic capacity, and my partners were glad to give me extra time to perform any duties she might give me."

But no "diplomatic capacity" gave Quinn the right to take Sookie. Once again Eric's palms healed themselves, and once again he broke the skin with his nails. "This woman has been mine," he said slowly, glaring at Quinn, not trusting himself to meet Sookie's eyes. "And she will be mine."

"Babe, are you his or not?" Quinn asked.

Babe? As if she were a cheap fangbanging slut just old enough to order alcohol? He waited for Sookie's reaction, which promised to be a joy to watch. But she only smiled.

"Not," she said.

Quinn took the few steps inside her house to reach her – the steps that Eric could not take – and offered his arm, which she accepted. "Then let's go enjoy the show," he said.

She looked up at Eric as they walked through the door, but he turned away from her. He had no desire to see more of the defiance, amusement, and triumph in her eyes. There was no way to scour her from his blood. Even more maddening, there was nothing that could make him want to. Others may borrow her, but in the end, she was his.

No, said a laughing voice in his head. You are hers.

Chapter Text

Pam made no attempt to hide her amusement when he flew from Sookie's house to Fangtasia and related the story to her. Before she left his office to return to the bar, she adjusted the placement of her breasts in her skintight leather corset and asked, "Have you considered simply telling her that you… have feelings for her?" Her face was the picture of perfect disdain when she said the word "feelings."

"She knows very well that I want her," he growled.

"Yes," said Pam, rolling her eyes as she turned on her spiked heel. "She does know that."

Telling Sookie that he had "feelings" for her would be like telling her she had blond hair; it was self-evident in everything else he said and in everything he did. It was redundant and useless to say. Speaking those words to her would be like insulting her, and if the words happened to surprise her, it would be insulting to him. Telling her he needed her was out of the question.

But something much more important bothered him about the evening's events. How in fuck did Sophie-Anne know of Sookie's existence? Only a handful of her subjects knew about Sookie, and of those, none would have mentioned her to the queen. Certainly not himself, and certainly not Bill, who had always been overprotective and stubbornly firm about keeping Sookie away from vampire politics.

He placed a call to the queen's residence and left a message for her to call him at her earliest convenience.

Much to his frustration, her earliest convenience was two nights later.

"What do you need, Eric?" she asked, straightforward as ever, after they had greeted each other.

"I was informed that you had requested Sookie's presence at the summit, and I was curious to learn how you came to know of her talents."

Sophie-Anne answered him with a short laugh. "Yes, it is… curious, don't you think? That one of my sheriffs had a telepath and failed to inform me?" He had nothing that resembled a plausible response. Yes, he had kept Sookie a secret. No, he couldn't have told the queen why he did so. He couldn't have told himself why. "A simple oversight, I'm sure," she continued in the awkward silence. "And, as it turns out, hardly worth mentioning. I already knew of her."

"May I ask how?" His mind whirled to come up with the answer. Pam? Stan Davis?

"I suppose there's no point in keeping it from you," she said lightly. "Her cousin Hadley was my pet, and from her I learned everything. I sent Bill to investigate further." Eric's office disappeared as he hunched over his desk. "I take it he never mentioned the matter to you."

"No," he managed to reply.

"Good," she said. "He was instructed to tell no one. I sent him back to Bon Temps specifically to seek her out – seduce her if need be – and discover what, exactly, her talent is. Learn her limitations. Ensure that she is always in a position to cooperate with us when we want her. He performed admirably. Quite an asset you have in him, Eric."

"Yes."

"As it happens, Sookie is on her way to the city as we speak. Mr. Cataliades went to fetch her. Bill called me a short time ago to say that he's accompanying her as well. I trust— Hello?" He had dropped his cell phone, but he could still hear her voice speaking up at him from the floor. "Eric?"

He scooped up the phone quickly and forced his mind into something that was once again orderly and in control. "My apologies. I dropped the phone. Is there a chance I could meet with you tonight or tomorrow night? I was planning a trip to New Orleans anyway because I need to discuss some logistics about the summit."

"Are you interested in this woman, Eric?" she asked, and he could hear the smile in her voice. "Do you plan to make her your pet?"

"No," he said firmly. "I don't want a pet."

"Good. I'm sure I don't need to remind you that a vampire in a position such as yours should not be forming a lover's bond with a human."

"It would be unthinkable."

"You may wait upon me tomorrow night at eight," she said, and he could hear the smile in her voice.

He tossed his phone onto the desk. Bill Compton, you son of a bitch. Eric summoned Pam and told her that he was leaving immediately.

Eric liked New Orleans. There was a reason that vampires flourished here, and the famous mystique was only part of it. Most cities stayed awake at night to some degree. An office light in a skyscraper, a few taxis waiting at red lights. But New Orleans cloaked herself in the night as if it were a glittery evening gown, and then she went out dancing. From the "cities of the dead," those eerie cemeteries full of white crypts raised above ground, to the saxophones and drums that lured strollers into jazz clubs on Bourbon Street, to the never-fading smell of seafood and salt water, New Orleans was very much like a vampire. She glamoured people, she made them fall in love with her, she seduced them, she got into their blood and claimed them.

Tonight he didn't roam around the city as he usually did when he visited. He checked into Hotel Monteleone – since they had upgraded some rooms into sun-proof suites for vampires, he never stayed anywhere else – downed a True Blood, and lay on his spacious hotel bed, staring up at the ceiling.

Somewhere in the city, Sookie would be sleeping soundly. Was Bill with her? What about the tiger? If Quinn had been the queen's messenger about the summit, did he also know of Bill's betrayal?

And had it been a betrayal at all?

Eric frowned up in the darkness. Bill clearly had been given no choice in the matter; the queen's wishes were law. But certainly he could have provided the necessary information about Sookie without seducing her… making her love him. No. If she didn't care about Bill, she wouldn't have gotten so involved in their world. She wouldn't have helped them discover Long Shadow's treachery; she wouldn't have gone to Dallas. She might not have ever set foot in Fangtasia. No one had benefitted from this charade as much as he himself had, he realized, and it only made him hate Bill more.

He couldn't convince himself that it was a charade, however. Bill loved Sookie. Either that, or he was a supremely gifted actor. No, he loved her. Then why had he never told her of his mission? As his lover, she had deserved the truth, and it was not as if Sookie would ever dream of telling the queen that he betrayed the secret.

Would you have told her?

Yes.

No.

Yes. Not at first. But if he had come to love her as Bill did, he would have told her. A moot point, in the end, because he could not love.

Though he rose slightly before sunset the next night to prepare for his visit with Sophie-Anne, the meeting never took place. She called him just as he was sliding on his shoes.

"Good evening, Eric," she said. "I want to inform you that your telepath is in the hospital." She added quickly: "She isn't seriously injured."

Bill, he thought immediately. Would Bill really go to such lengths to keep Sookie from the truth? "What happened?" he asked through gritted teeth.

"She was attacked by a newly turned vampire at her cousin's apartment. But as I said, she will recover soon enough."

"I must…"

"Yes, of course," she interrupted. "You must go to her. I know what an asset she is to Area 5." Again he heard a smile in her voice, but he didn't give a fuck.

He jotted down the name of the hospital and flew there, too impatient to drive. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been inside a hospital, and for good reason. When the automatic doors of the emergency room whooshed open, the scent of blood – all types, from all directions – slammed into him. It only took a moment for him to recover; the first thing on his mind was Sookie. He glamoured a nurse to lead him to the curtain where he could find her, then he parted it slowly.

"May I come in?" he asked her, swallowing a tide of anger at whoever had done this to her. He realized that his fangs had run out, though he didn't know if it was due to his anger or his bloodlust. Perhaps both.

She nodded, looking at him in bewilderment. "Yes. What on earth are you doing here in town, Eric?"

When have I ever not been where you are? Dallas. Jackson. Here. He smiled. "I drove down to bargain with the queen for your services during the summit. Also, her Majesty and I have to negotiate how many of my people I can bring with me. We've almost reached an agreement. I can bring three, but I want to bargain up to four." At this point, Pam would have been rolling her eyes and saying, "Raaaaambling!"

"Oh, for God's sake, Eric. That's the lamest excuse I've ever heard." She mimicked holding a telephone to her ear. "Modern invention known as the telephone?" He watched wordlessly, absorbing her rudeness as she shifted her position on the bed. "Leave me alone, okay?" she said, her voice softer. "You don't have a claim on me… or a responsibility to me."

He didn't even try to disguise how her words took him aback, wounded him. "But I do," he said, willing her to stop being stubborn and see that he did have a claim on her, just as she had a claim on him. "We have a bond." At the moment that bond was filling him with her weariness and her pain. "I've had your blood… when you needed strength to free Bill in Jackson." And not only then. Not only that. He fixed his eyes on hers. "And we've made love often, according to you."

"You made me tell you!" she retorted, as if that was in any way significant. She ignored everything else he had said. "How'd you get here, anyway?" she asked, waving a hand to indicate the hospital.

"The queen monitors what happens to vampires in her city very closely, of course," he explained. "I thought I'd come provide moral support." His eyes fell to the injury on her arm. "And, of course, if you need me to clean you of blood, I'd be glad to do it."

Her cold, defensive shell was melting away, and he could see a smile tugging at her mouth. But that was the moment Bill picked to join them. Eric hadn't expected his anger to flare up the way it did. After he had turned the situation over and over in his head the night before, he thought he had reached a sort of understanding for Bill's position. That understanding had all but disintegrated in a matter of seconds.

"Eric," Bill said, looking wary.

Eric looked down at Bill and wavered between calm and fury. "Why am I not surprised to see you here?"

Bill launched into an explanation while Eric ignored him and watched Sookie's face. As her eyes drifted shut, Bill said, "Eric, you're tiring her out. You should leave Sookie alone."

He lifted his eyes from Sookie's face to Bill's, and he saw the truth there. Bill had been told that Eric knew of the situation. Even now, he was too chickenshit to tell Sookie the truth. It was time for this to end.

"I quite understand why you want to keep Sookie isolated while she's in New Orleans," he said in a low voice, keeping his eyes on Bill's until the latter turned away.

"What?" Sookie asked. She cast a confused expression back and forth between them. She used a remote control to lift the bed so that she was in more of an upright position. "What's all the big hinting about, Eric?" He shook his head at her; it was not his truth to tell. "Bill?"

"Eric should not be agitating you when you've got a lot to handle already."

Eric crossed his arms. There was no going back now.

Her eyes were growing more and more fearful. "Bill?" she said again. He heard the pleading in her voice – the unspoken wish that Bill would not hurt her. It was too late for that.

Eric lifted his gaze from the floor to Sookie's ashen face. "Ask him why he came to Bon Temps, Sookie."

"Well, old Mr. Compton died, and he wanted to reclaim his…" Her voice trailed off. She knew as well as they did that her truth had become a lie. "Bill?" This time her voice broke on his name.

Eric turned his back on the scene, unable to look anymore; her face pained him, and Bill's infuriated him. This was not the moment he would have chosen for her to learn the truth, but he had learned over the centuries that the truth had a way of making itself known at the worst times. In the end, it was always for the best. He forced himself to believe that.

"Sookie," Bill sighed, "you would find out when you saw the queen. Maybe I could have kept it from you because you won't understand, but Eric has taken care of that." What made the bastard think that Sookie couldn't understand? He had always underestimated her. "When your cousin Hadley was becoming the queen's favorite, apparently, Hadley talked about you and your gift a lot…"

Eric blocked out Bill's voice and braced himself against one of the most powerful waves of pain he had ever felt. Not physical pain, but something he couldn't identify at first, as if someone were slicing him apart from the inside out. As Bill continued talking, the pain increased. He wouldn't have thought it possible that such torture could become worse, but every second made it so.

"Get out," Sookie choked at last.

"Please let me finish," Bill said.

Sookie's breaths were shaky and erratic as they stumbled over her sobs. "I never want to see you again… ever in my life." Her voice was barely audible. "Ever." She breathed in deeply, and said with more conviction, "Get out." Eric had never heard her voice sound the way it did then.

He heard retreating footsteps as Bill obeyed her. Alone with her again… He could turn and comfort her. He could hold her as he had that night in Dallas, the night she had escaped the Fellowship of the Sun. But he found that he couldn't bear the sight of her face as he knew it must look, and he knew as surely as he knew his own name that she would not want him to see it.

He reached behind him to touch her leg briefly, almost as much to comfort himself as to comfort her. As he walked away from her and out of the hospital, he realized that the staggering pain he had felt from Sookie had been a very human emotion – one he hadn't felt in centuries, if ever. Sookie's heart had been broken.

"How could you do that?" came a voice to his left, and Eric stopped walking. "Even you, heartless as you are… How could you do that?" Bill stepped out of the shadows of the building and approached him. His eyes were rimmed with blood.

"How could you?" Eric asked, unmoved.

"I was going to tell her when--"

"Bullshit."

Bill pressed his mouth into a thin line for a moment. "But while she was in the hospital, Eric? What the fuck were you thinking? Did you think if you got me out of the way, you could just take her?"

"You were already out of my way, Bill," Eric said, noticing that his fangs had run out again as they scraped his bottom lip. "What would be the point?"

"I wonder that myself."

Chapter Text

Eric was still standing outside the hospital long after Bill had disappeared into the parking lot. He crossed his arms and leaned back against a fluted column, frowning straight ahead; several people going into the hospital gave him strange looks, but he ignored them. Sophie-Anne would be expecting him. Somehow, though, he couldn't bring himself to move. There was still a stabbing pain in his chest, and it seemed to be getting stronger instead of weaker. Then he smelled Sookie's unmistakable scent, and he knew why the pain hadn't subsided. In a blur of speed, he hid himself as she emerged from the hospital. Her bare feet looked white and small against the concrete.

A beggar approached her, but she rebuffed him quietly before shouting after him, "I have nothing!" Her mouth twisted. "See," she added in a dead tone, "I never had anything to start with."

Eric closed his eyes against the almost physical pain that slammed into him. If he still breathed, it would have knocked the air out of him. When he opened his eyes again, Sookie had begun walking down the street. Surely she didn't intend to walk all the way back to where she was staying, alone, vulnerable, injured, and barefooted in the dark? As he followed her down block after block, he conceded that she was doing just that. Leaving her now was not an option. He turned off his cell phone, which had begun vibrating in his pocket.

The walk was uneventful apart from a group of drunkards who tried to grab her outside a seedy-looking bar. Sookie screamed, wrenched herself free of the man who had taken her arm, and slammed him against the building. Though she couldn't see him, Eric smiled at her in the darkness. He thought of going after the men, but their interest in Sookie seemed to have died completely as they shook their heads and staggered away from her.

She walked on for a short time and caught her toe on a bit of raised sidewalk, which sent her sprawling to the ground. Even from his distance, Eric could smell the blood that oozed up from her knee and slid down her shin.

If he hadn't thought that the sight of him would give her even more pain, he would have scooped her up outside the hospital and carried her wherever she needed to go. It pained him enough to see her like this and be unable to help her, but he could shoulder it; in her state, she wouldn't be able to bear any more. He followed her until she reached a dark building, and he leaned against a light pole, waiting, until he saw a light flicker on upstairs. Then he left her.

If Sophie-Anne was annoyed at his ignoring her calls, she gave no sign of it. "There you are," she said easily when he was shown in to her. She gestured to a chair near her, and he took it. "Your human was attacked by a newly-made vampire named Jake Purifoy. He was already a Were before he was turned. The attack was unintentional, and Jake has been taken into our custody for safe-keeping and training. You will not harm him."

"As you say," Eric nodded.

"Was Sookie seriously injured?"

"Not by Purifoy," he said carefully. "But she did learn of Bill's betrayal. I'd guess that she was hurt more by that."

The young queen waved her hand in dismissal. "Oh, he didn't betray her, Eric. He sought her out on my orders, of course, but surely you can tell as well as I can that he genuinely cares for her."

"I have no opinion about that."

"You are one of the worst liars I have ever known. And thanks to my position, I have known many. You are like the humans' George Washington, yes?" She laughed. "You cannot tell a lie."

He smiled in spite of himself. "I don't think that's what they mean, but you're quite right all the same."

"I want you to stay here in the city for another few nights," she told him. "You will help with Jake Purifoy."

Under any other circumstances, he would have risked argument; as it was, however, the queen had (knowingly? intentionally?) provided him with an excuse to stay in New Orleans, where he could remain close to Sookie in case she needed him.

Chapter Text

He had just risen two nights later when Rasul, a vampire he had seen around Sophie-Anne's headquarters and residence, knocked on his door.

"What?" he said shortly, stepping aside so that Rasul could enter.

"Your telepath called the queen's place this afternoon and left a message that she was in trouble. The message was--"

"Who took her?" Eric interrupted. "Where is she?"

"That's just it, Sheriff. We don't know. Is your bond with her strong enough to lead you to her?"

He would know soon enough. Without answering Rasul, he indicated that the vampire should join him. Rasul had brought a car, and Eric slid in with no words but the directions to the place on Chloe Street. When they arrived, he let himself in through an upstairs window while Rasul waited in the street below. Even though Sookie had been here only a short time, her familiar scent permeated the rooms – as did the stink of the tiger. Nothing was amiss in the bedroom; it was evident that she had been packing her cousins' things. He walked quietly into the kitchen and stopped short. He smelled animals other than the tiger. He smelled sex, too, but this he willfully ignored.

Letting himself out through the front door, he looked up and down the street. His phone buzzed in his pocket. He withdrew it, glanced at the screen, and opened it to answer Sophie-Anne's call. "Any word?" he asked immediately.

"The witch who owns the house, Amelia Broadway, called a moment ago and reported Sookie missing. She had no further information."

"Useless," he growled with frustration. He assumed the witch was searching elsewhere now, since she obviously wasn't at her home.

"Quite," she said, and he could hear her smirk. "Happy hunting."

Eric leaned back against the building and closed his eyes, willing himself to concentrate. The likelihood of being able to feel Sookie lessened with each mile that separated them; the chances were mediocre to begin with because they didn't have a full blood bond. He pushed every other thought and distraction from his mind and called Sookie to the fore.

Where are you? he asked her. He was calling out to his own blood inside her, searching for some very strong emotion that he could latch on to and follow. There was nothing at first, but gradually he felt her pull threading through his consciousness. He took a few paces down the sidewalk, experimenting, and the threads loosened. When he turned and went in the other direction, he felt them more strongly, twining through his veins. Now that he had found his connection to her, it became easier to hold onto it and sense it strengthening or weakening by the slightest of degrees.

"I have her," he said in a low voice. His eyes were fixed absently in the distance, almost as if a sense other than sight were guiding him now.

"Will you run or fly?" Rasul asked.

Eric had almost forgotten that he wasn't alone. He turned to the other vampire, then looked up at the cloudy night sky. The streets were wet with rain, and more was clearly on the way. "We'll take your car." He set his jaw. "We will be returning with passengers."

They returned to the spot where Rasul had left his car, and Rasul motioned for Eric to take the wheel. The drive was silent; Rasul was apparently wise enough to see that Eric had nothing to say. Eric flipped on the windshield wipers as the rain picked up. She was close now – quite close. If it weren't for the rain, he was sure he could have lowered the window and smelled the tiger in the air.

He parked the car near a beaten-down cabin. Quinn was in his human form, naked, single-handedly tearing into two thugs. The rain had subsided somewhat as Eric leapt from the car and ran to the shifter. Rasul took off after a man and woman who seemed to be trying to escape.

Quinn was one of the few men who was tall enough to look Eric directly in the eyes. "The Pelts are behind this," the tiger said, indicating the couple that Rasul had overtaken.

"Rasul will help you clean up whatever's left," he said quickly. "Where is Sookie?" Quinn nodded his head in the direction of the cabin, and Eric wasted no time. Worthless structure as it was, the cabin was still a private building. He heard a commotion inside and yelled, "Let me in!"

"Come on now, I need help!" Sookie shouted back. He swung the door open and couldn't help pausing for a moment to take in the scene: Sookie pinning another woman, a Were, to the ground. Sookie gritted her teeth as she struggled with the woman beneath her. "Listen, Sandra! Hold still, damn it!"

The female named Sandra hissed back, "Fuck you."

Enough of this, amusing as it was. "This is actually kind of exciting," he said cheerfully.

When Sookie looked up at him, his face hardened. She had been beaten, and now her face was bruised and swollen. If the tiger hadn't killed the two men outside, Eric decided that he might do it himself.

"I could use some help here!" she said, breathless and angry.

"Of course, Sookie," he said with a smile, "though I'm enjoying the wiggling around. Let go of the girl and stand up."

She stayed where she was. "Only if you're ready for action."

"I'm always ready for action." He tore his eyes unwillingly from her and focused his gaze on the other woman. "Sandra, look at me," he commanded.

This Sandra seemed to know better than to let a vampire glamour her; she only closed her eyes and continued fighting. He was impressed by the sight of Sookie fighting and holding her own with a Were – impressed and more than a little turned on. But when Sandra managed to free one arm, bringing it back to hit Sookie, he knelt beside them in a flash and stopped her. That he would not allow.

"That's enough," he said in a low, dangerous tone.

Sookie rolled to the side and lay there, panting, as Eric continued to struggle with Sandra. Finally, he adopted the simple solution of squeezing her fist in his. It never failed. She cried out and stilled beneath him.

"That's just not fair," Sookie muttered, looking up at him.

He was lost in his thoughts for a moment as he replied absently, "All's fair."

"What are you talking about?" she asked, looking confused. Eric blinked and shook his head, dismissing her question. "Where's Quinn?"

He smiled slightly. "The tiger has taken care of your two abductors. Would you like to go see?"

"Not particularly." She lay still on the floor and closed her eyes. "I guess they're dead?"

Eric raised himself off of Sandra, shooting her a warning look, and sat up to survey the room. His eyes fell on a smallish man, who was lying unconscious nearby. "I'm sure they wish they were. What did you do to the little man on the floor?"

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," she said.

He looked down at her and smiled, even though she couldn't see him. "Try me." Of Sookie he could believe almost anything.

"I scared him so bad, he spilled hot coffee on himself. Then I hit him with a stun gun that I got out of the van."

"Oh." He couldn't stop a breathy laugh from escaping, and Sookie opened her eyes to meet his.

"The Pelts?"

Eric shrugged. "Rasul has them covered. You have another fan, it seems."

"Oh, it's because of the fairy blood. You know, it's not fair. Human guys don't like me. I know about two hundred of them who wouldn't want--"

She had more to say on the subject, but Eric's mind was otherwise occupied. "You have fairy blood," he mused aloud when she stopped talking. "That explains a lot." Her strength, part of her magnetic appeal to his kind, perhaps even her gift…

"Oh, no, you couldn't just like me! Oh, no, gosh, there has to be a reason. And it's not gonna be my sparkling personality, oh, no!" He wanted to interrupt and ask her what the fuck she was on about, but she barely seemed to be taking time for breath. "It's gonna be my blood because it's special! Not me, I'm not special, I--"

"I don't give a damn about fairies myself." Quinn. Eric bit back a growl.

In a flash, Sookie was standing beside the naked shifter, looking up at him as if he were her knight in shining armor. "You okay?"

"Yes," he assured her with a smile full of white teeth.

"I left your clothes out there in the woods. I'll go get them."

He shook his head. "I can."

"No, I know where they are," she insisted, "and I couldn't get any wetter." She gave him a lopsided smile, indicating her soaked-through attire.

Just as Sookie opened the door, Sandra yelled, "Fuck you, bitch!"

Eric still had the Were's fist grasped in his own, and he squeezed it again, harder than he had before. Sandra cried out and then wisely became silent. Looking around the cramped room for a moment, Eric spotted a roll of duct tape and picked it up. He ignored Sandra's angry protests as he restrained her securely. That done, he satisfied himself by placing one last piece over her loud, irritating mouth.

He noted with approval that Quinn had bound the semi-conscious man that Sookie had shot with the stun gun. The tiger had also managed to find a towel to wrap around his waist. They stood in uncomfortable silence, arms crossed, waiting for Sookie to return. When she did come back, she handed Quinn's wet clothes to him, and the two of them disappeared together to use the cabin's dryer as Eric and Rasul brought all of the captives together into the building. Gordon and Barbara Pelt were much more subdued than their daughter.

Sookie rejoined them, wearing dry clothes that Eric assumed she or Quinn had found: a man's threadbare undershirt and khaki-colored shorts with lots of pockets. In spite of her sturdy, solid frame, the clothes were obviously too big. Bedraggled as she looked, he wanted her no less than he usually did – especially with her generous breasts, braless, testing the capabilities of the thin white shirt. He looked away quickly, giving one of the Pelts a fierce frown.

"Where's the little guy?" Rasul asked the group, looking around at each of them. His eyes fell on Sookie and took her in. "Sookie, I'm glad to see you looking so well, even though your ensemble falls below your usual standards." He grinned at her.

One corner of her mouth tipped up half-heartedly. "You really know how to make a girl feel beautiful, Rasul." If she wanted to feel beautiful, Eric could take her into one of the other rooms alone and show her how much he appreciated every inch of her. He felt the tips of his fangs on his tongue. Focus.

Sookie had taken a seat and was now addressing the Pelt woman. "What were you going to do with me?" she asked

"Work on you until you told us the truth and Sandra was satisfied," the woman answered with eyes that were both angry and pained. "Our family couldn't be at peace until we knew the truth. And the truth lies in you… I just know it."

Sookie stalled, looking away from Barbara Pelt and taking in all the captives, then the vampires. "Just the two of you?"

"Any time two vampires can't handle a handful of Weres is the day I become human again," Rasul scoffed.

Sookie nodded a little and turned to Eric. He felt her uncertainty and fear. "Eric, what should I do?" He could see in her eyes that she would do whatever he told her, and the feeling wasn't a good one. He didn't like Sookie this way. Of course, she was right to ask him, since the secret was his as well as hers. He nodded his permission, giving the decision back to her.

With a deep breath, she faced the Pelts again. "I'll tell you what happened to Debbie," she said. She spoke slowly, but her voice was steady and strong. "Debbie hated me because she thought I wanted Alcide. She had tried to kill me once before in Jackson. Then she blamed me because Alcide abjured her. After the fight with the witches in January – this was when Eric still didn't know who he was – I got back to my house with Eric, and when we walked in, Debbie was there waiting with a gun." Sookie swallowed and glanced at Eric. "She probably would have killed me if Eric hadn't jumped in front of me to take the bullet. He was lying there, bleeding, and I ran for my brother's gun. I shot her." Her voice was detached but not cold, not heartless as Eric knew his own would be if he were telling this story. "Eric took the – took Debbie's body away while I cleaned up. I have no idea where he buried her or where he hid her car. That's it. That's the whole truth."

After a long silence, Debbie's mother nodded and wiped the tears from her cheeks. "That sounds like our Debbie. This has the ring of truth."

Eric tightened his lips against a smirk. That's how you know you're a vindictive bitch. Your own mother believes that you would shoot another woman out of jealousy and spite.

"She did have a gun," the father added. "I gave it to her for Christmas two years ago."

"She was…" Barbara paused, searching for a word. "Proactive." She turned to her daughter, whose face was wet with tears. "Remember when we had to go to court when she was in high school because she put super glue in that cheerleader's hairbrush? The one that was dating her ex-boyfriend?" She shook her head sadly. "That does sound like Debbie, huh?"

Gordon Pelt looked up at Eric. "You still don't remember where you put her?"

"I would tell you if I did." And there are a hundred other things I would choose to remember from those days. Where your bitch of a daughter is rotting is the last of the memories I want back.

Now it was Quinn's turn to address the Weres. "You guys hired the two kids who attacked us in Shreveport," he said, not even bothering to make it a question. They all knew it.

The man nodded. "Sandra did," he replied, since his daughter's mouth was still duct-taped shut. He launched into a lengthy explanation that didn't interest Eric in the slightest. Only a Were would be stupid enough to turn people as part of a plot for revenge. Charming that the humans hated vampires, who were trying to mainstream for the most part, and knew nothing of the dangerous Weres and shifters living in their midst.

"We were both hurt, and those two kids are dead now, because of Sandra," Sookie said, and now there was ice in her voice.

"She's our daughter, and she believed she was avenging her murdered sister." If any mother truly had unconditional love, it must be this Barbara Pelt.

"And then you hired all the Weres that were in the second van and the two Weres lying out in the front yard," Sookie continued. "Are they going to die, Quinn?"

"If the Pelts don't take them to a Were doctor, they may," he said grimly. "And they sure can't go to any human hospital."

Sookie turned back to the Pelts. "Will you do that – take Clete and George to a Were doctor?" Eric couldn't believe that she cared to know their names, much less that she expected them to be given medical care.

"We figured you were going to kill us," said Debbie's father. "Are you going to let us walk away? With what assurances?"

Fucking nerve.

"With assurances that I never hear of this again, neither I nor Eric."

Eric hoped his expression made clear that he would happily kill them anytime, anywhere, including now. That was the only assurance they could count on from him.

"Sookie is a friend of the Shreveport pack," Quinn told them. "They are very upset she was attacked in their own city, and now we know you're responsible for that attack."

The Were bitch seemed nonplussed. "We heard she was no favorite of the new packleader."

"He may not be packleader for long. Even if he stays in office, he can't rescind the pack's protection since it was guaranteed by the previous packleader. The honor of the pack would be destroyed." As much as Eric disliked Quinn, he had to approve of the tiger's cool head.

Gordon Pelt sighed. "We'll make reparations to the Shreveport pack."

"Did you send Tanya to Bon Temps?" Sookie asked them.

Tanya? Eric didn't know anyone of that name.

"Yes," said Barbara, "I did that. You know our Debbie was adopted? She was a werefox. Tanya is a member of Debbie's birth family, and she wanted to do something to help. She thought if she went to Bon Temps and began working with you, you might let something spill. She said you were too suspicious to warm up to her offer of friendship. I think she might stay in Bon Temps. I understand finding the bar owner so attractive was an unexpected bonus."

Eric smirked.

"And the man who owns this house?" Sookie pressed.

"He's a former high school buddy of Debbie's," Gordon explained. "We asked him if we could borrow his house for the afternoon, and we paid him. He won't talk after we leave."

"What about Gladiola?"

Eric doubted these people had anything to do with the demon's death, and their confused expressions confirmed his suspicions.

"Gladiola?" the woman asked. "The flower? It's not even the right season for glads now."

Sookie wisely moved on without telling them what she had meant. "Do you agree we're square on this? I've hurt you, you've hurt me. Even?"

The duct tape on Sandra's mouth happily silenced whatever protests she herself had while Gordon and Barbara agreed to Sookie's deal.

"You killed Debbie, but we do believe that you killed her in self-defense," the man said. "And our living daughter took extreme and unlawful methods to attack you." He glanced at Sandra, who was turning red in her anger and frustration, then back at Sookie. "It goes against my grain to say this, but I think we have to agree to leave you alone after this day… with these stipulations." Sookie raised her eyebrows but waited in silence for him to continue. "You won't come after Sandra, and you stay out of Mississippi."

There was no hesitation on Sookie's part. "Done." She evidently cared as little for Mississippi as he himself did, he thought with amusement. "Can you control Sandra enough to make her keep to this agreement?" she asked, and everyone looked at the struggling young woman.

"Sandra," her father said sternly, "Sandra, this is law. We are giving our word to this woman, and our word is binding on you. If you defy me, I'll challenge you at the next full moon. I'll take you down in front of the pack."

"We are leaving now," Quinn said in a voice that dared anyone to argue. "I'll free Mrs. Pelt, and she can free the rest of you after we have left. Understood?"

The three Pelts nodded, and Quinn took care of Barbara Pelt while Sookie went to fetch their clothes from the dryer. After making sure they had everything, Quinn and Sookie joined the vampires in Rasul's car. The drive back to the city was quiet for the most part. In the back seat, Sookie had leaned her head on the tiger's shoulder, and Eric suspected that she had drifted off, if only briefly. Rasul parked along the curb in front of Amelia Broadway's house, and Quinn helped Sookie out of the car. Before they moved away, Eric opened his window and reached for Sookie's hand.

"The fairy blood," he said quietly, fixing his eyes on hers. "If it made such a great difference, I would have noticed it the first time I tasted your blood. But I didn't even know until you told me tonight. You understand what I'm saying to you?"

She gave him a tired nod and pulled her hand from his, though not roughly. "Thanks for finding me."

"Come on, babe," the tiger said, draping his arm around her.

Eric turned away and closed his window as Rasul pulled back out onto Chloe Street.

Chapter Text

It was hard to miss the dress. Rather, it was hard to miss the vast expanses of deliciously exposed skin that the scraps of material failed to cover. The dress would have been labeled "trashy" by anyone who was asked; Eric would have suggested it for inclusion in the Louvre. He didn't like the color on her, but who the fuck would be looking at the fabric? He touched the tip of his tongue to his partially extended fangs and stared. Her graceful back was completely bare, and her chest might as well have been so. The generous curves of her breasts tested the thin material that covered them, and the tantalizing valley between them was there for all to see. An inch or two lower, and the plunging neckline would have afforded a glimpse of Sookie's navel as well.

With so much bounty on display, he had no difficulty ignoring the shifter at her side. Less easy to ignore were the bruises on her face and the bandages on her arms. If they hadn't promised the Pelts… He was distracted for a few moments with thoughts of what he'd love to do to them, but his mind quickly switched back to the much more pleasant reflection about what he'd love to do to Sookie.

He was on watch tonight. Something was about to happen here, and he could see it on most of the vampires' faces. In spite of the compulsion to go to Sookie and steal her away from Quinn for a dance, he maintained his position against a far wall and observed in silence.

Sophie-Anne stood beside Threadgill, who looked like a tiger ready to pounce. No, that was Quinn, Eric thought bitterly. He watched Sookie step close to Mr. Cataliades, and when she drew away, one of her bandages was gone. Eric frowned. What the fuck? Then she offered her hand to the queen. Normally, Sophie-Anne would look on such a gesture with utter disdain, but she didn't hesitate to take Sookie's hand. Whatever the two women were saying, Sophie-Anne looked very pleased. She was a lover of women, and doubtless she appreciated what Sookie and her tease of a dress had to offer. Sookie then spoke briefly to Threadgill before walking with Quinn to a shadowy corner across the room from where Eric stood.

Anastasia, the night's mistress of ceremonies, signaled the room for attention and announced in a voice still slightly accented with Russian, "Sophie-Anne and Peter welcome you to their first joint entertainment. Sophie-Anne and Peter invite all of you to have a wonderful evening of dancing, eating, and drinking. To open the dancing, our host and hostess will waltz."

Eric paced down the length of the wall where he'd placed himself, watching the dancers, watching Sookie move to the refreshment table and engage in conversation with another couple, watching Bill watch Sookie, watching the conspicuously dressed Arkansas vampires. Quinn and Sookie glided onto the dance floor, but Eric's eyes were drawn elsewhere.

Threadgill nodded at Ra Shawn, a vampire who stood some yards from Eric, and minutes later, Eric saw the flash of a sword, followed by Wybert's body falling to the ground as the bodyguard's head hurtled towards the dancers, leaving a trail of blood and gore behind it. He blocked out the screams and commotion as his eyes swept the rapidly forming chaos for Sookie. She stood alone at the edge of the room, near a pillar, and Wybert's head lay at her feet.

Satisfied that she was safe, Eric began making his way towards the queen and her allies in the center of the room, where the Arkansas vampires were surrounding them. All except one. Eric stopped and whirled, searching for Ra Shawn. The sword-wielding vampire was eying Sookie, walking slowly along the wall towards her.

Eric roared, bared his fangs, and practically flew to Sookie's side, knocking her flat and covering her body with his own, just as he had done in Dallas. She made a move to defend herself, but he pinned her down. "I've got you," he assured her.

Her breasts swelled as she gasped for the breath that had been knocked out of her. "What the hell are you doing?" she demanded, oblivious as always. Her cheeks were flushed, her skin lightly misted with sweat.

He grinned down at her. "Protecting you." Enjoying the feel of your body under mine once again.

"I don't see anybody coming after me." She struggled beneath him, and the movement only added fuel to his desire for her. "It seems to me like the queen needs you more than I do, but I appreciate it."

I don't give a fuck about the queen, he thought rashly – but the rashness of it made it no less true. Sookie was the only person in that room he cared about protecting. He crushed his lips to hers and took his time kissing her, his raw lust of this evening combining with the passion he now always felt for her. He pricked his tongue on one of his fangs as he kissed her. The small drops of his blood wouldn't do much, but she could use all the extra strength she could get.

Now there was business to attend to. He broke off the kiss with regret and smiled down at her as he reached for the decapitated head. "Bowling for vampires," he quipped, feeling giddy with bloodlust and Sookie-lust. With hardly a glance, he pitched his bloody bowling ball at Ra Shawn, and the shiny sword fell to the floor with a clatter. In the space of one second, Eric left Sookie and scooped up the fallen sword. He gave his enemy the Wybert treatment, and another head joined Wybert's on the floor.

He gave a loud shout of victory and charged at the Arkansas vampires who surrounded Sophie-Anne and her people. Eric knew himself to be a master of three things: business, killing, and sex, in no particular order. He had no qualms about showing off any of these skills when they were called for, and he left a bloody trail behind him.

Chapter Text

The end of spring and the passing of summer into autumn seemed fast and unworthy of note, as if the year were saving up energy for the last days of August. Eric saw Sookie only a few times over those months, and when he did, she was brisk and distant. And then there was no time to think of Sookie because Hurricane Katrina swept up from the Gulf, the levees broke, and New Orleans was transformed into a quilt of rooftop islands. Vampires' resting places all along the Gulf Coast were washed away or leveled, and many died from the exposure, even though the sun was hidden by clouds and rain. The influx of vampires to Area 5, mostly in Shreveport and Bossier City, had required weeks of juggling and paperwork.

Now, the postponed summit in Rhodes was at hand, and the stakes were high for Sophie-Anne and her subjects. It was Andre who set the date and time for the meeting at Fangtasia, and it was understood that he did so with the queen's authority. All those summoned had gathered – all except Sookie.

Eric watched as the minute hand on his clock lazily moved from 7:04 to 7:05. He felt her even before he heard her car, and he smiled. Pam noticed. He met her eyes and gave a slight nod, her signal to go to the back door to let Sookie in. The two women took their time getting back to the office, and Eric could hear them talking outside the door before Pam opened it, grinning, and said, "Eric, maybe someday one of the waitresses will get pregnant, and we can go to a baby shower."

The gods only knew why Pam and Sookie had been talking about babies; was that something Sookie especially wanted? One of the few things he couldn't give her. Not that it mattered, since she was with the tiger still. "That would be something to see," he replied absently. He looked at Sookie, searched for something in her face, and didn't find it.

She should have somewhere to sit. It would be unseemly for a vampire in Eric's position to give his place at the desk to a human, but if he chose to pace with towering authority during the meeting… Well, no one could complain then.

Tossing aside his pen, Eric stood and lifted his long arms over his head in a casual stretch. Judging by the way her pulse picked up, his display wasn't lost on Sookie. Quinn who? he thought to himself as he fought a smile.

Clancy leered at Sookie and motioned to his lap. "You can sit in my lap, Sookie." Eric was not amused.

"No, thanks, Clancy," she told him.

Eric observed her as she took in the vampires who surrounded her. He caught her almost imperceptible flinch when Jake Purifoy greeted her, and that brought back the terrible night at the hospital in New Orleans. He quickly banished the memory of her pain – the way he had felt it, sharp and stabbing, in his own dead chest.

Beside him, Andre stood to greet Sookie with a bow. "Miss Stackhouse."

She returned his bow with one of her own, and Eric felt his mouth twitching with amusement. "Mr. Andre," she said.

Andre offered his chair to Sookie, and she accepted it with a gracious smile as Eric tried not to scowl. He remained standing in case Andre chose to take his seat at the desk, as was his right as a higher-up.

"How is Her Majesty?" Sookie asked Andre.

"That's part of the reason I am here tonight," Andre told her. "Eric," he continued, though he still looked at Sookie, "can we get started now?"

"Yes, we're all here. Go ahead, Andre. You have the floor." Andre apparently had no intention of sitting, so Eric sank back in his chair and propped his feet on the desk.

He listened idly as Andre relayed information about the queen's temporary living arrangements in Area Four. This Eric had already been told by Gervaise himself. Then Andre moved on to the property damage and fiscal losses, which were considerable.

"Maybe the queen should remain in Baton Rouge," Clancy interjected. "I'm sure Gervaise would be overwhelmed with delight at the prospect of hosting her permanently."

Clancy, you fucking idiot. Happily for Clancy, Andre chose to ignore him. Eric, however, shot him a withering glare.

"A delegation of New Orleans leaders came to visit our queen in Baton Rouge to ask that she return to the city. The human leaders think that if the vampires will return to New Orleans, tourism will pick up again." He gave Eric a meaningful, not very friendly, look. "In the meantime, the queen has talked to the four other sheriffs about the financial aspect of restoring the New Orleans building."

Translation: pay up. Eric nodded to show that he understood. "What about the queen's entertainment estate?" he asked Andre. If the old monastery had been ruined, it would cost a great deal of money to restore it.

"It didn't suffer much damage. There were looters there, too." Andre's mouth twisted into a smile. "Of course, they left a trace of their smell. One of them shot the lion."

"Do you need help with the apprehension?" When Andre's only answer was a raised brow, Eric added, "I only ask because your numbers are low."

"No." Andre gave an ugly smirk. "Already taken care of."

"Aside from the lion and the looting, how was the estate?"

Andre crossed his arms. "The queen can stay there while she views the other properties, but at the most for a night or two only. Our loss of personnel…" he continued, effectively closing the matter of property damage. "Our initial assessment was modest, as you know."

Modest was an understatement. Eric had known it was much worse the moment he had been sent the first numbers, which suggested that perhaps five vampires had met their final death. In total about forty vampires had disappeared from the Gulf Coast when Mississippi's coastal cities were also factored in. Eric knew the number already; the other vampires gathered in his office did not.

Sookie raised her hand like a school child, and Andre acknowledged her with a short nod. "What about Bubba?" she asked him, her genuine concern evident on her face.

"Bubba's alive," Andre assured her, briefly explaining that Bubba was staying in Nashville. What he didn't say was that Eric was the one paying the Nashville vampires to keep Bubba. He considered it a sound investment. Bubba, though stupid, was loyal.

As Andre told Sookie about Bubba, the other vampires had turned to each other, whispering questions about who was missing. Eric lifted one of the sheets of paper on his desk and held it up for the others to see. "Andre has brought me a list of those that are missing. I'll post it after the meeting."

Once again Sookie's hand was in the air.

"Yes, Sookie?" Andre said politely. Eric knew that Andre wouldn't dream of showing such deference to other humans. The fact that Andre valued Sookie wasn't necessarily a good thing for her.

"You know what I wonder, y'all?" she said, looking thoughtfully around the room. "I wonder if one of the kings or queens attending this summit, or whatever you all call it, has a… like a weather predictor or something like that on staff." Her suggestion was met with silence, not because the others thought she was foolish, but because she had set their brains in motion. "Because, look, the summit – or conference, or whatever – was supposed to take place in late spring originally, but… delay, delay, delay, right? And then Katrina hit." She looked up at Andre. "If the summit had started when it was supposed to, the queen could have gone in a powerful position. She would have had a big war chest and a full quiver of vamps, and maybe they wouldn't have been so anxious to prosecute her for the king's death. The queen would have gotten anything she asked for, probably. Instead she's going in as a… much less powerful."

She was onto something, though a "weather predictor" wasn't exactly it. Predicting the weather months in advance was absolutely impossible, but postponing a summit until the height of hurricane season was more than plausible.

Andre, who had been nodding along as she spoke, said, "That's one of the things you'll need to look for at the summit. Now that you've given me the idea, it seems oddly possible." He turned towards the desk. "Eric?"

"Yes," he replied, still looking at Sookie, "I think there is something in that. Sookie is good at thinking outside the box." And you can't have her, Andre.

"What about the suit filed by Jennifer Cater?" said Clancy.

"It's still active," Andre told him. "The queen has responded to the suit by testifying that she had to kill Peter to save her own life. Of course, she offered reparation to the common fund."

"Do we even have that much money after the disaster?" Clancy asked as Andre paced the room. He was moving closer and closer to Sookie, Eric noticed.

"The queen hopes the suit will be dismissed, but apparently the court is prepared to hear a trial." Andre's eyes flashed with anger. "Jennifer is charging that our queen lured Threadgill to New Orleans, away from his own territory, having planned all along to start the war and assassinate him."

"But that wasn't what happened at all," Sookie protested.

Moments later, adrenaline was rushing through her as if someone had suddenly held a gun to her head. She knew something. Andre, standing behind her like a malevolent shadow, had a look on his face that would have given it away even if her body hadn't. In fact, all the vampires had sensed the sudden shift in her chemical balance. Had she witnessed Threadgill's death? A glance at Andre made it clear that the moment had to be moved past, and quickly. Sookie really had no idea that she needed to protect herself from Andre. Someone else would have to do it.

"So you think the trial will be held?" Eric asked, carrying on as if there had been no lull in the conversation.

He had no doubt whatsoever that the trial would be held, but the distraction worked like a charm. Andre turned away from Sookie and explained to the gathering that under the circumstances, a trial was inevitable.

"We know there's no truth to the allegations," Bill said, speaking up for the first time since he'd come in. "Eric was there. I was there. Sookie was there."

Eric gave a wry smile. Leave it to Bill to draw the attention back to Sookie's having witnessed the events of that night. "I accounted for the one who started it," he told the others, knowing that Andre, Bill, and Sookie would well remember Ra Shawn – and the triumphant sight of Ra Shawn's head spinning slowly on the floor. "The king did his best to trap the queen in an indiscretion, but he didn't, thanks to our Sookie." He smiled at her briefly, pleased to see that Andre was finally moving away from her. "When his plot didn't work, he resorted to a simple frontal attack. I haven't seen Jennifer in twenty years. She's risen fast. She must be ruthless."

Ruthless and more than willing to sleep with Threadgill. They had been lovers for some time, which no doubt added more fuel to her desire for revenge.

"Yes," Andre mused with a grim nod. "Ordinarily the queen would want a full contingent there to support her, but since we're forced to practice economy, the numbers going have been cut." And back he wandered to Sookie. Eric gritted his teeth. "The queen wants this woman close to her in meetings, since other humans will be there. She wants to know their thoughts. Stan is bringing his telepath." He looked down at Sookie. "Do you know the man?"

Sookie, not realizing that Andre was speaking to her, mumbled a complaint to Pam, then looked up with a start to see all the others looking at her. "I – I've only met one other telepath in my life," she answered quickly, "and he was living in Dallas, so I'm supposing it's the same guy. Barry the Bellboy. He was working at the vamp hotel in Dallas when I picked up on his… uh, gift."

"What do you know about him?" Andre pressed, still right beside her.

"He's younger than me, and he's weaker than me – or at least he was at the time. He'd never accepted what he was, the way that I had."

Andre was watching Sookie as if she were a butterfly fluttering just within reach of his net. Perhaps no one else in the room understood that Andre was maneuvering to claim Sookie for himself and Sophie-Anne. He was waiting for Sookie to accept – to agree to go as their telepath, falling for the illusion of choice. If she went as their human, she would always be theirs.

But if he, Eric, claimed her as his own…

"Sookie will be there," he said firmly, as if she were his own property. "She is the best at what she does." Andre forced a pleasant smile, and Eric could feel Sookie's own annoyance. I am Sheriff for a reason, Sookie. I know what I'm doing. "Clancy will stay here to run the bar," he added offhandedly.

"This human gets to go while I have to remain?" Clancy complained. "I won't get to see any of the fun!"

Fun?

"That's right," Eric replied, his light tone belying the threat in his eyes. Clancy got the idea and said nothing more. "Felicia will stay to help you. Bill, you will stay."

"No," Bill said before Eric could move on. "The queen requires me. I worked hard on that database, and she's asked me to market it at the summit to help recoup her losses."

And, of course, you want to keep an eye on Sookie. Unfortunately, there was no getting around it if Sophie-Anne wanted Bill there. He reined in his anger and turned away as if he didn't care either way. "Yes, I'd forgotten your computer skills. I suppose you need to be with us, then." He looked around at the small group. "Maxwell?"

"If it's your will, I will stay."

"Then you'll remain here. And you, too, Thalia." He gave her a stern look. "But you must promise me that you will be good in the bar."

"I don't want to go anyway," she said, her rebellious way of agreeing.

"So," Eric said, speaking over Pam's whisperings to Sookie, "the only ones attending the summit are Andre, our queen, Sookie, myself, Bill, and Pam… Cataliades the lawyer and his niece as his runner… Oh, yes, Gervaise from Four and his human woman, a concession since Gervaise has been hosting the queen so generously…" Not that he had a choice. "Rasul as driver… and Sigebert, of course. That's our party." To the sullen or angry faces in the room, he added, "I know some of you are disappointed, and I can only hope that next year will be a better year for Louisiana – and for Arkansas, which we now consider part of our territory."

Andre nodded along throughout Eric's little speech, then said, "I think that's all that we needed to talk about with all of you present."

Those who weren't going to Rhodes took their cue to leave, and Andre followed them out. Eric waited until Pam, Bill, and Sookie had resettled themselves before he proceeded to the specifics of the trip.

"We depart on September 29 – that's next Thursday – and we will return on the second or third of October, depending on how events play out." They would be leaving Rhodes even sooner if the queen's trial didn't go well, but there was no need to go into that. These were smart people. "We'll be flying a charter plane from Anubis. It picks up the Area Four group first – the queen, Gervaise, and so forth. Then it will come to meet us at our airport. We'll meet at the hangar just before sunrise and get into our coffins. Sookie, you'll need to be at the hangar at ten in the morning. Don't be late."

"I won't," she said without looking up from the notepad where she was scribbling down everything he said.

"As for clothing, you'll need formal evening attire. Suits for the men, a formal dress and a cocktail dress for the ladies. And nice business daywear for the humans. Sookie, you wouldn't need those clothes if it wasn't for the trip. I've called your friend's store, and you have credit there. Use it."

With some amusement he recalled Tara Thornton's "How much?" when he had arranged for Sookie to have ten thousand dollars to spend in her store.

Sookie blushed, and he added a small, easy lie. "The staff has an account at a couple of stores here in Shreveport, but that would be inconvenient for you."

Pam's eyes flew up to his, then just as quickly looked away again. The fact was, Eric's employees didn't need him to supply credit accounts; Fangtasia made them all rich. And Bill, as everyone knew, was independently wealthy. There was also the fact that buying gifts for Sookie was a rare pleasure that he didn't intend to deny himself.

"We may have suffered a disaster, but we won't go in looking poor," he went on, looking at each of them in turn. "Is everyone clear? Our goals for this conference are to support the queen as she tries to clear herself of these ridiculous charges, and to let everyone know that Louisiana is still a prestigious state." He couldn't stop the dark smile that spread over his face. "None of the Arkansas vampires who came to Louisiana with their king survived to tell the tale. Any questions?"

They all shook their heads.

Later, as Eric fiddled with spreadsheet numbers on his laptop, Pam looked up from polishing her nails and observed, "Kind of strange that Sookie ignores Bill now. She won't even look at him." Eric made a noncommittal noise and didn't reply. "You know anything about that?" she pressed. She raised up her left hand and blew on her nails, now a demure shade of pink.

"I don't suppose it matters to you that I'm trying to work."

"You aren't working. You're thinking about Sookie."

"Pam," he said in a low, warning tone.

"I'm worried about you, Master. You've been different – preoccupied. You haven't called a human back to your office in months. You have lost your… pep."

Bill was a safer topic than himself. "She's avoiding Bill because she learned that the queen sent him to Bon Temps to seduce her."

"So?"

"For a human, that is a betrayal."

"But he had no choice if the queen sent him."

"She thought he loved her."

Pam smirked and dipped the nail polish brush into the tiny bottle to begin work on her right hand. "Vampires do not love." When he said nothing, she asked, "When did you learn of this? And how did Sookie find out?"

"I found out in New Orleans, as did Sookie. I forced Bill to tell her." He concentrated on his computer screen.

"What?" she exclaimed in disbelief. "You… what? An order from the queen, Eric! You made Bill reveal a secret mission to the human subject of that mission. What if--"

"She deserved to know," he replied shortly.

"Oh, fuck," she said. "Oh, fuck."

"Quite the vocabulary you've picked up from Dear Abby."

"You care about her," Pam went on, ignoring his remark. "I knew that you wanted her. Hell, I want her myself. But you care about her."

Eric rested his forehead in one hand and gave a loud sigh. "Is there nowhere else you can go to paint your nails, Pam? I don't have time for this."

"You can't care about her. You have to stop. You know you do."

In a flash, he slammed his fist on the desk and bared his fangs at his child. "Get the fuck out, Pam."

She looked at him, gaping, and rose without a word. Her bottle of nail polish lay spilled on the floor. "I'll send one of the girls in to clean that up," she murmured just before she closed the door.

* * *

You can't care about her.

Annoyed and angry as he had been two nights earlier, he knew Pam was right. This would have been easier to accept if there was something he could do about it. But he couldn't not care about Sookie. There was no hour in any night when he didn't think, at least once, of kissing her, touching her, drinking her, making her laugh, dancing with her, undressing her, turning her so that he could keep her. She was in his blood like a sweet poison that he needed and craved even as it killed him.

"Eric?" said Indira, interrupting his thoughts. She bore a small round tray on the palm of her hand, and several True Bloods rested on it. "You want something?"

He shook his head. "Nothing to drink. But I would like you to find Pam and tell her to meet me in my office." He had been meaning to speak to her for hours, but she still hadn't come to work. It was unusual for her to be so late.

"Pam went to Bon Temps, sir. She left a note at the bar for Felicia."

He knew she would be staring after him as he leapt up and flew out the door.

* * *

He arrived at the shifter's bar after looking for Sookie and Pam at Sookie's house. The two were outside in the lot of the now-closed bar; he heard Sookie's voice.

"I don't owe Eric a thing."

And then Pam's voice. "You care for him, I know you do. He's never been so entangled in his emotions. He's never been at such a disadvantage."

Whatever Sookie thought of this declaration from Pam, she didn't say it. He watched them move the chairs they'd been sitting on, and then he stepped forward and made his presence known. Pam's eyes widened. Sookie's face was blank.

"Pam." He paused, unsure of what to say. On one hand, he was furious with her. On the other, he felt an overwhelming affection. For now, his anger would take precedence. "You were so late, I followed your trail to make sure all was well," he said smoothly.

"Master." Her voice was contrite as she knelt before him.

He held himself back from laying a hand on her head. You say vampires don't love, Pam, but that's bullshit. I know that you love me.

"Leave," he told her.

A second later, he stood alone before Sookie, who looked ragged and tired. So many reminders that she was human: the dark circles under her eyes, the sag of her shoulders. Some decades at most, and she would be gone. A blink in time, as all humans were. He stepped closer to her and raised her chin with one finger. Don't blink, he thought. Don't make me stand by while death closes your eyes.

He lowered his mouth and kissed her slowly, enjoying her. Her lips were as warm and smooth as always, her tongue as insistent as ever when it met his, her body supple as she pressed herself to him and accepted his kiss. He held her slim neck between his hands and loved the rapid pounding of her pulse – increasing every second – under the fingers of his left hand. She smelled like the tiger, but he just didn't care.

Then she backed away suddenly, her breathing ragged. She always pulled away first. Was that the allure of her? Simply the attraction of the unattainable?

"Eric, I don't know why you're here, and I don't know why we're having all this drama."

"Are you Quinn's now?" he asked. The tiger had been gone for months, giving Eric reason to believe that his rival was gone. But now--

He went back to the previous thought. His rival? His rival for what, exactly? Sookie's bed or something more?

Sookie's eyes flashed and the walls of stubborn resistance flew up around her. "I'm my own. I choose."

"And have you chosen?" he asked.

She sighed with frustration and rolled her eyes. "Eric, this is beyond gall. You haven't been dating me. You haven't given me any sign that was on your mind. You haven't treated me as though I had any significance in your life." The tumble of protests was like a traffic jam in his mouth; he couldn't form a single word. "I'm not saying I would have been open to those things," she continued, "but I'm saying in their absence I've been free to find another… uh, companion. And so far, I like Quinn just fine."

"You don't know him any more than you really knew Bill." Whereas I have been constant since you met me. Her flinch betrayed the fact that he'd wounded her, though it hadn't been his intent.

"At least I'm pretty damn sure he wasn't ordered to get me in bed so I'd be a political asset!" Tears had formed in her eyes, but she blinked them away.

If it makes you feel any better, you'd be a political liability for me.

"It's better that you knew about Bill," he said gently.

She nodded. "Yes, it's better. That doesn't mean I enjoyed the process."

"I knew that would be hard, but I had to make him tell you."

"Why?" she asked, her eyes searching his.

I have no idea. The silence was becoming heavier, so finally he said, "It wasn't right."

"True. But maybe you just wanted to be sure I wouldn't ever love him again."

Ever since he'd seen her in that car trunk in Jackson, raped and bloody, he had wanted to make sure that she would never love Bill again. No, before that. Since Dallas. And he had been quite determined in his efforts to undo her love for Bill, well before the night in New Orleans. He was a pragmatist. He took advantage of every opportunity.

"Maybe both things," he admitted.

Sookie's eyes flickered away from him and then back. "Okay…" She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "You've been moody around me for months, Eric, ever since you were… you know, not yourself. What's up with you?"

Not himself. The version that Sookie had loved.

"The victim's memory will be erased. He will seek out his heart's desire but never know it if he finds it."

"Ever since that night I was cursed, I've wondered why I ended up running down the road to your house," he said absently.

"Did you ever figure out the answer?"

"No," he said, venting all of his frustration into that single word. If Sookie had been his heart's desire, then how had he known that he wanted her? The curse said that he wouldn't know it if he found it. Sometimes he wondered if his heart's desire was to kill Sookie, to make himself immune to her for good, and the curse was that he fell in love with her.

When he was not himself. He had fallen in love with her when he wasn't himself. When it was safe… easy. When he couldn't remember what was at stake.

"No," he said again. "And the witch who cursed me is dead, though the curse was broken. Now she can't tell me what her curse entailed. Was I supposed to look for the person I hated? Loved?" Wanted to be rid of? "Could it have been random that I found myself running out in the middle of nowhere, except that nowhere was on the way to your house?"

Sookie was speechless, searching for words. Finally, she gave a half-smile and said, "Probably the fairy blood."

No. "No."

Enough of this. He flew into the air, away from her. He needed to be away.

Chapter Text

Eric was combing his hair and straightening his suit when Pam peered around the doorframe and tapped it lightly with her knuckles. "Cleo's here to see you before you all meet up with Andre," she said. "And, um… Russell's here, too. Any idea what he wants?"

"Your guess is as good as mine." He took one last look at himself in the mirror to make sure he was presentable for the night's events, then turned out of the small hotel bathroom. "I'll see Russell first," he said, motioning for Pam to open the door.

But when Pam opened the door, already bowing her head in deference to Mississippi's king, Russell swept in, dragging Cleo behind him. "What I have to say is no secret!" he exclaimed. "I am the happiest vampire in Rhodes!"

Eric raised an eyebrow. "What's the happy occasion?" he asked. He cast a wondering glance to Cleo, but his fellow sheriff looked as nonplussed as he himself did.

"In a few short hours, I shall be marrying Bart Crowe," Russell pronounced.

"Let me offer my congratulations," Eric replied with a dip of his head.

"And I, Russell," Cleo said. "A happy century to you both."

"Oh, it will be much longer than a century." The king was beaming, and Eric found himself battling a once-foreign emotion that he now experienced with some regularity: jealousy. "I was told that you can perform marriages," he said to Eric.

"Yes," Eric said with some surprise. "I thought it would be helpful, as a sheriff, to be able to officiate marriages in my area. Saves me some paperwork and--"

"Wonderful, wonderful. You will officiate our wedding tonight. Damned priest didn't show up."

"Priest?" Eric asked with some amusement.

Russell waved his hand. "Bart's a Catholic, wanted to be traditional and all that. The priest was accommodating enough to agree to officiate the wedding of a vampire, but this evening he found out that the wedding was between two men. Fucking bigot. Anyway, my Bart will have to make do with the Church of the Loving Spirit tonight. I assume that's where you got your certification?"

Eric nodded. The CLS had been established in recent years to facilitate vampires and humans who wanted to worship together. They met at night, of course, and they held the controversial belief that vampires could be ordained. Church-goers were generally Christians, particularly in the South, but the CLS embraced all religions.

"Wonderful," Russell said. Everything was "wonderful" for him today. He handed Eric the knife for the blood exchange. "I leave this in your hands."

Not long after, Eric found himself slipping on the ceremonial robe and pulling the black velvet hood forward to cover his head. The bonding knife was a small but noticeable weight in the right pocket of the robe. He waited beside the dais as the two kings stepped up and faced each other. Cataliades was already in his place, standing beside the out-of-state lawyer who had drawn up the marriage contract, and Quinn the tiger occupied the dais as well, apparently serving as the Master of Ceremonies. Eric scowled behind the hood.

Quinn looked over in Eric's direction and motioned for him to begin. Eric strode ceremoniously onto the stage and took his place between Russell and Bart. He raised his arms to call for silence.

"The ceremony begins!" Quinn announced as if the vampires present didn't already know that. Eric ground his teeth in annoyance. "Let all be silent and witness this joining," Quinn added for good measure.

Now shut up, Eric thought. He pulled back the hood and looked out over the audience. He felt a surge of admiration in his blood, and his eyes flitted to find the source. Sookie.

"We are here to witness the joining of two kings," he proclaimed in his most commanding voice. "Russell and Bart have agreed both verbally and by written covenant to ally their states for a hundred years." The two men looked at each other and smiled broadly. "For a hundred years, they may not marry any other. They may not form an alliance with any other, unless that alliance is mutually agreed and witnessed. Each must pay the other a conjugal visit at least once a year." Judging by their mutual lovestruck expressions, the conjugal visits would be much more often and much less for the sake of duty. "The welfare of Russell's kingdom shall come second only to his own in Bart's sight," Eric went on, "and the welfare of Bart's kingdom shall come second only to his own in Russell's sight." He turned to Russell. "Russell Edgington, King of Mississippi, do you agree to this covenant?"

Russell beamed more than ever. "Yes, I do," he said, extending his hand to Bart.

"Bartlett Crowe," Eric continued, turning to the other man, "King of Indiana, do you agree to this covenant."

"I do," Bart replied solemnly. He reached out and clasped Russell's hand.

The tiger knelt and held out the chalice for the blood exchange, placing it under the kings' hands. In a flash, Eric withdrew the bonding knife and made a slice in both of their wrists, which bled into the chalice. So clean were the cuts that the knife had no spot of blood on it. Eric slipped it back into the robe.

After each drinking from the chalice, Russell and Bart kissed… and kissed. No, the conjugal visits would not be limited to once a year. Eric stood aside and watched as the kings and the lawyers signed the official agreement. It was done.

"The marriage is sacred for one hundred years!" he announced.

He followed the happy couple as they stepped off the dais and began mingling with the high-spirited audience. There was much small talk to be made, and he fell into it with the familiarity and ease of centuries. Not to mention the boredom of centuries. Sophie-Anne and her entourage were hosting serious discussions in one corner. Eventually, as he pretended to listen to a Tennessee sheriff's ramblings about the potential profit to be gained by using Bubba to stage Elvis sightings, he saw that Sookie had been added to the queen's circle.

Some time after that, he saw Andre guide her away from the queen and out into the hallway used by waiters and other service staff. He excused himself from hearing the laments of one of Russell's subjects, a casino owner from the Mississippi Gulf Coast, and made his way to the exit. He felt Sookie's distress even before he pushed through the door. Andre had backed her against a wall and was holding his bleeding wrist over her mouth.

Rage surged up through him, but he bit it back. Only one strategy would prevail here if he valued both Sookie's life and his own: caution.

"Andre, why are you doing this?" he asked, hoping that his tone was more curious than threatening. He didn't think he succeeded.

Andre bared his fangs as he turned, and Eric could see that he was not pleased at the interruption. "Are you questioning the will of your queen?"

Caution. A light touch. Confidence.

He paused for a few seconds, precious time to think fast and to summon the tone he needed. "Andre, let me offer a suggestion. She must be kept happy or she won't cooperate anymore." He cocked his head in Sookie's direction. "We've exchanged blood several times, Sookie and I. In fact, we've been lovers." He spoke as if he remembered everything, but also as if it meant nothing to him. He had no qualms about lying to a snake like Andre. "I think she wouldn't be so balky if I were the blood giver," he continued, referring to Sookie as if she weren't even there. The way Andre saw her. "Would that suit your purposes? I'm under oath to you." He finished this speech with a bow of his head.

Andre said nothing at first, but he did release Sookie. He looked back and forth between Eric and Sookie, then said to her with a leer, "You look like a rabbit hiding under a bush while the fox tracks her." He considered her for a few moments. "You did do my queen and me a large service… more than once. If the end result will be the same, why not?" He turned again to Eric, who hoped his face wasn't betraying the relief he felt. "All right, Eric. As long as she's bonded to someone in our kingdom. I've only had a drop of her blood to find out if she was part fae. If you've exchanged blood with her more than once, the bond is already strong." You have no idea. "Has she answered well to your call?"

The idea of Sookie answering his "call" was about as likely as a Were building a snowman on a full moon night in hell, but Eric swallowed his amusement and answered without hesitation. "Yes, she heels nicely."

Sookie was not stupid; she bowed her head in submission and said nothing. Good girl, Eric thought.

"Well, then, go on," said Andre, motioning from Eric to Sookie.

This had not been part of the plan. The plan had been to take her to his room and make a good show of it. Creating a full blood bond with Sookie was unthinkable. She would resent it, and he himself would be even more at risk than he was already by his tie to her. The fact that Andre would have this knowledge made the scenario even bleaker.

"Right here?" he stalled. "I'd prefer somewhere more private."

Andre crossed his arms. "Here and now." There was no hint of leniency in his tone.

Sookie's wide, frightened eyes found his, and Eric met her gaze steadily. "Sookie…" This is the best I can do.

She gave a small nod. "Eric." Then she offered her neck to him, an antelope giving herself to the lion, not because she trusted him, but because she had no choice.

He took the edges of his robe in his hands and brought them up around Sookie, bracing them against the wall behind her. If he had to bond with her in this public hallway with Andre standing by, this was the only thing he could do to keep it between them – personal, the way it was meant to be.

"Eric, no sex," she breathed in a voice that was obviously meant to be stern, but instead sounded unhappy and vulnerable.

Vulnerable was what they would always be to each other now, with no feelings hidden. Dangerous. Intimate. He pushed her collar away with his nose, closed his eyes, and pressed his lips to the pulse in her neck, inhaling her scent deeply as her arms found their way around him and held on. He sank his teeth in hard and fast. With no orgasm to make this moment pleasurable for her, Sookie gasped with the pain of it. Eric lowered one hand to her back, gently gliding his fingers up and down through the thin material of her clothes. No matter how many times he drank from her, the sublime taste of her blood never failed to take him by surprise. Her heart was racing, which made her blood pulse more forcefully into his mouth. After an appropriate time, he licked and sealed the wound.

"Now, Sookie," he said hoarsely, pulling back a little. He raised the arm he had put behind her back and offered his wrist, but that position proved awkward. Sookie shook her head slightly and unbuttoned his shirt with trembling fingers. It wasn't the first time she had undressed him. He wished he could remember. Her tongue darted out briefly to wet her lips, and she leaned closer to bite him. Remembering the knife in the pocket of his robe, he reached for it and cut his own chest. It would be easier for her that way.

Sookie covered the cut with her mouth and drank from him. Every sensation – the pull when she sucked, the warmth of her tongue against his skin, the scrape of her teeth – was bliss. Though she didn't know what was happening, the very idea that he was giving himself to her, that she was taking him for her own, swelled the rush of desire that always accompanied a blood exchange. His blood was coursing through her now more than ever before, and hers spread through his body like hot light. She sucked hard a few more times, and his body reacted as if she were sucking something else entirely. He came with a soft, suppressed moan, silently cursing Andre for preventing this moment from being in a bed, with a happy and willing Sookie wrapped around his body, both of them sated with mutual pleasure.

The wound in his chest had healed, and Sookie buttoned his shirt up again. Behind him, the door to the large assembly room flew open and an unwelcome voice yelled, "What the hell are you doing?"

Sookie froze in his arms.

"They are obeying orders," said Andre.

"My woman doesn't have to take orders from you."

His woman?

Eric was happy to see that Sookie looked as offended as he did at the tiger's words of ownership.

Sookie stepped back from Eric and looked away from him as he fell back against the wall. "Andre, I'll finish the job I undertook to do for the queen here because I shook on it." She swallowed, her eyes hard. "But I'll never work for you two again. Eric… thank you for making that as pleasant for me as you could."

"Oh, no problem," he said a little vaguely, his mind still a tangle of desire and anger.

"Quinn, I'll talk to you later, as we agreed," she finished.

She stormed away, leaving Eric with Andre and Quinn. Andre, apparently unfazed, nodded with satisfaction that the deed was done and returned to the main room.

"Did you force yourself on her?" Quinn demanded.

Eric gave him a withering look and pushed past him to go to his own room and change.

Chapter Text

A few minutes were all he needed to pull on a clean pair of pants and return to the large assembly room. When he entered, he was immediately motioned over by Sophie-Anne. He was careful to keep his face impassive as he walked over to the queen; somewhere in the hotel, Sookie was very upset, and his own insides twisted and ached along with her. If anything ended his long centuries of existence, it would be this blood bond.

"Sit," the youthful-looking queen said when he reached her, and she nodded to an empty chair at her right. She watched him as he obeyed her, then leaned in close to speak softly. "I'm considering the benefits of keeping the Stackhouse woman as part of my staff from now on. When my compound in New Orleans is rebuilt, she could stay in one of the apartments there. I'm sure she would be quite comfortable."

Eric shifted closer to her and lowered his voice. "Do you think that would be wise, your majesty? If she's unhappy about being forced to relocate, she might try to run away. Worse yet, she might begin to intentionally misread what people are thinking, putting you in a precarious position. A bitter servant can never be trusted."

Sophie-Anne nodded slowly. "You're perfectly right, Eric. In Bon Temps, content and near you, she will remain for now. By the way," she continued, "Russell was looking for you a few minutes ago. They need the bonding knife so they can have it returned."

"Returned?"

"It's a ritual knife used only for marriages."

"Attention, everyone!" came a voice from the main entrance. Eric looked up to see the bodyguard Batanya standing there, arms raised. "A bomb squad is en route to take care of a suspicious object discovered by Sookie Stackhouse on the fourth floor. It is advised that everyone remain in this room until the matter is resolved."

"That's our floor!" Sophie-Anne exclaimed, but Eric had already leapt up.

"Batanya," he said, seizing the Britlingen's shoulder, "where is Sookie now?"

She blinked, perhaps surprised by this sense of urgency from a vampire where a human was concerned. "She's upstairs with the object."

"Damn it," he spat. He turned away from Batanya to go to Sookie, but instead slammed into Bill.

"Going upstairs?" Bill asked.

"Of course."

"I'll come with you."

Eric growled. "No, you'll stay here." He was disobeying orders as it was, and the last thing anyone needed was Bill to escalate the situation. Ignoring Bill's furious expression, he took off for the elevator.

As soon as he exited the crowded room and focused on Sookie, her fear descended on him like an anvil, more powerful than anything he'd ever felt from her before. He stumbled back against the wall, more from shock than anything else. He had never been blood bonded to anyone. That wall of protection around himself was gone now, and the lack of it scared the shit out of him.

A guard blocked the way to the elevator, so Eric doubled back down the hall a little and made for the stairs, ignoring the man's protests behind him. With his long legs, he had no trouble racing up the stairs three at a time. As he climbed, he ignored the voice in his head that asked, Why are you doing this? The answer to that question was even more dangerous than the bomb.

"Are you trying to be a martyr for these damn things?" he heard the tiger ask in a raised voice that was almost a shout.

He started up the last landing as Sookie gave a bitter laugh. "Oh, haha. Yeah, 'cause they love me. You see how many vampires are up here? Zero, right?"

Eric yanked the door open and emerged into the fourth floor lobby. "One," he said, ignoring Quinn completely as he ran his eyes over Sookie. Her collar was stained with dried blood from earlier, but she seemed unharmed. Even though she was afraid, even though his own blood roiled with it, her presence began to calm him. "We're bound a bit too tightly to suit me, Sookie. I'm here to die right along with you, it seems."

The words were spoken before his brain could process the truth of them. You would really take that bomb and die in her place?

I would.

I love her.

He stared at her.

Sookie rolled her eyes and gave an exasperated sigh. "Good. To make my day absolutely effing complete, here's Eric again. Are you all completely nuts? Get the hell out of here!"

"Well, I will," said the human man who had seemed to be standing guard. "You won't let anyone take the can, you won't put it down, and you haven't blown up yet. So I think I'll go downstairs to wait for the bomb squad."

"Thanks for calling in the troops," Sookie told him as he pushed open the door to the stairwell.

While she was distracted, Eric took advantage of the opportunity to get closer to her. He didn't think there was a way to take the can from her without some kind of struggle, but perhaps there was a chance that the blood bond would weaken her defenses against him if he tried to glamor her. It was worth a try.

He stared down into her eyes and spoke with the authority of a master commanding a slave. It was something he had never intended to do with her. "You'll give it to me and leave."

She shook her head. "Won't work, never did."

He couldn't help feeling a little amused at the thought of what Andre would say if he could witness this. Eric's power over Sookie didn't even extend so far as handing over a soda can to save her own life. The idea made him strangely happy. She was the only human who wasn't his to command… the only person, apart from vampire royalty, who could defy him. He loved her for it.

Will you stop using that word?

"You are a stubborn woman," he said, unable to choose a tone between anger and affection.

Her eyes welled, but she stood firm. "I'm not. I just don't want to move it. That's safest!"

His gaze fell to her white knuckles as she gripped the can, then back up to her face. "Some might think you're suicidal," he told her with a smile.

"Well, some can stick it up their ass." She had relaxed a little, and he wondered if it was his presence or his teasing that had helped. Perhaps both.

"Babe, put it down on the urn," the tiger said, and Eric's smile faded into a thin line of irritation. "Just lay it down reeeeeeal easy." She's a woman, not a horse, you fucking idiot. "Then I'll get you a big drink with lots of alcohol. You're a real strong gal, you know that? I'm proud of you, Sookie." She's not a child, either. "But if you don't put that down now and get out of here, I'm gonna be real mad, hear me?" Do not kill the tiger. Do not kill the tiger. "I don't want anything to happen to you. That would be nuts, right?"

Only seconds after the moment when Eric decided that he would kill the tiger – and relish it – the elevator doors opened to reveal a robot. Eric tilted his head and watched curiously as it looked around, scanned Sookie, and rolled back into the elevator. A robot that allowed men to be cowards while a woman's life was at stake.

"I hate modern technology," he muttered.

Sookie looked at him. "Not true. You love what computers can do for you, I know that for a fact. Remember how happy you got when you saw the Fangtasia employee roster with all the work hours filled in?"

It must have been something Pam had told her. He could picture them laughing over it. "I don't like the impersonality of it." His mind wandered briefly to the fortune Bill was making with his computer database. "I like the knowledge it can hold," he admitted.

Every passing minute made her calmer, and the small talk seemed to be helping. She was visibly less tense, though by no means relaxed.

"Someone's coming up the stairs," said the tiger. He pushed open the door, and a vampire in a strange suit joined them.

The officer regarded Eric and Quinn for a moment, then jutted his chin towards the door to the stairwell. "You two civilians need to leave the floor to the lady and me." Civilian my ass, Eric thought. He didn't budge from his place near Sookie. To his credit, Quinn didn't leave, either. "Take a hike, guys," the vampire said in a sterner voice.

Eric raised an eyebrow. He couldn't recall ever being told to "take a hike," much less when his bonded lover was holding a bomb. "No," he said at the very moment Quinn said, "Hell no."

Realizing that he was out of luck, the vampire shrugged and turned to Sookie with a heavy-looking padded container. He held it out to her, and she slowly, gingerly placed the bomb inside. As soon as the vampire closed the box, Sookie's adrenaline flooded out all at once, and she started shaking. Eric took a step closer to her to catch her if she happened to faint.

The tiger opened the stairwell door again, and the vampire with the bomb left them alone. For a few seconds the three of them listened as he descended the stairs. Eric watched Sookie.

Would she turn to him, he wondered, or the tiger? He had saved her from Andre at great cost to himself, and he had proved that he cared for her when he offered to take the bomb himself. If she had any lingering doubts about what she meant to him, they must be gone now. He waited.

At last, she seemed to collapse in on herself with released tension. "Oh… oh…" she breathed, and her knees curled under her. Eric moved to catch her as she fell, but Quinn threw his arms around her and held her up as her body went limp against his solid frame.

"You idiot," the tiger murmured over and over.

Sookie was crying now, wiping her tears on Quinn's shirt.

She had made her choice, then. Eric didn't linger to see more.

The moment he opened the door to rejoin the rest of the vampires, Pam flung herself at him and embraced him. Entirely unfamiliar with such a display from her, he staggered back a little and laughed. "Pam?" he said, pushing her away slightly.

"You idiot! What were you… No, I don't even want to know. I mean, I do know. But I don't want you to confirm it."

He decided to wait a few days, at least, before he told her about the blood bond.

* * *

Sophie-Anne was no fool, and she knew it wasn't a coincidence that the bomb had been set on her floor. She demanded the sheriffs' presence in her room at three in the morning. When Eric arrived for the meeting, he was admitted to the room by Sigebert. He had known before he entered that Sookie was inside, which gave him a few moments to steel himself. But that was no use. Her unhappiness was too strong to block.

She was on the couch in the sitting area, and she was doubled over with her head on her knees. Her exhaustion seeped into him. This was nothing like before, when he could simply feel what she felt. It was more immediate; her exhaustion became his, and it was the first time he had experienced such a thing since his days as a human. He sank heavily onto the couch beside her.

The moment he sat, she leapt to her feet. She crossed over to the suite's bar and ran some water into a glass, then sipped it with shaky hands. Her eyes met his from across the room, and he wasn't sure what he read there – at least nothing more specific than "upset." She returned to her place on the couch, her body language indicating that she'd rather be anywhere else.

He cast about for something to say. "Bill is still selling his little computer disk downstairs."

"So?" She took a sip of her water.

"I thought perhaps you were wondering why I showed up when you were in dire straits, and he didn't."

She shrugged with one shoulder. "It never crossed my mind."

Perhaps it would please her to know how many men cared about her. Humans were usually concerned with that kind of thing. He also realized, to his dismay, that it was important to him to be honest with her. That wouldn't come in handy. "I made him stay downstairs," Eric told her. "After all, I'm his area sheriff." Again she shrugged. "He wanted to hit me. He wanted to take the bomb from you and be your hero." He turned and studied the side of her face, so close and so inaccessible. "Quinn would have done that, too." And I would have done it. Did you even notice?

Sookie finished her water and leaned to set the glass on the floor at her feet. "I remember that Quinn offered."

He let a few seconds pass, waiting for some kind of acknowledgment, some sign that his caring hadn't escaped her notice. There was nothing. "I did, too," he said at last.

"I don't want to talk about it." She turned away.

He had expected some resentment about the blood bond, but surely she was grateful, too? Possibly she was too tired to know what she felt. Her feelings were so jumbled they almost made him dizzy. He looked around the room in an attempt to focus his mind on anything else but her. He failed utterly.

He listened and watched with disinterest as the human chief of hotel security was dismissed. Then Sookie addressed the queen. "If you'll excuse me, I'll just go to my room now."

Sophie-Anne turned her attention to Sookie slowly, her eyes narrow. "Are you unhappy about something, Sookie?"

"Oh, why would I be unhappy?" Sookie replied with a sarcastic twist to her mouth. "I love having things done to me without my will. And then I like hanging around the ones responsible. That's even better!"

Careful, dear one. You're talking to the queen.

Sophie-Anne stopped Sookie's speech with a raised hand. "You are assuming I know what you are talking about," she said in an icy tone, "and that I want to hear a human yelling at me."

Sophie-Anne didn't know. Eric's eyes darted furiously to Andre, then returned to Sookie, searching her face to see if she understood. Andre had been trying to take her for himself, quite independent of any order from the queen.

If Sookie did realize the fact, she gave no indication. "Excuse me… I'm very tired," she said softly. They all watched her move to the door with heavy steps and pull it shut behind her.

"Explain, Andre," Sophie-Anne said immediately. "Do you know something I don't?"

Her second-in-command remained impassive and calm. "I believe that Sookie was referring to steps I took earlier this evening to ensure her continued loyalty and service to you."

"What steps were those?"

"A blood bond, your majesty." He motioned in Eric's direction. "Her sheriff can now track her and summon her, should we ever need her services at a moment's notice."

Sophie-Anne nodded. "That is well done, Andre, but you know that you shouldn't have proceeded without my knowledge and approval."

"Of course," he said with a small bow, "and I do apologize for that."

"Well, that's taken care of," Sophie-Anne said lightly, waving her hand dismissively. "On to the business at hand."

Eric barely listened to the discussion that followed; he found himself unable to think of anything apart from the unattainable pleasure of killing Andre.

Chapter Text

They had expected Sophie-Anne's trial to be canceled after the shocking death of her only accuser, Jennifer Cater, but Eric woke the following night to be told that Louisiana's contingent must report directly to the convention hall. Before the anticipated ball planned for the evening, there would be the repugnant matter of the trial. He and Pam were the first ones to join the queen near the stage where the trial would be carried out. She seemed somewhat anxious, but she held her head up with her usual poise, looking especially regal in her purple ball gown. On the stage sat the Ancient Pythoness, her blind eyes focused straight ahead.

The room filled in a matter of minutes, including the council of kings and queens who would be judging their peer. Just when he was beginning to wonder at the absence of Andre from such an event, the doors opened to reveal Andre striding in with Sookie on his arm.

Sookie was stunning in a shiny dress of pale blue that drew all attention to her eyes… no mean feat when she had the breasts of a goddess. With every step that brought her closer, comfort and happiness welled inside him. Andre and Sookie sat down on the front row, followed by Cleo, who looked annoyed at the inconvenience of a trial.

Bill came up beside Pam, and Sophie-Anne nodded at him serenely. She said in the quietest of whispers, "I want you three to remain separate from the audience. Stand apart from me as you must, but stay close. I will depend on you for protection should anything go amiss."

"Consider it done," Eric said, kneeling before her. Bill and Pam followed suit. A split-second later, Andre had left his seat and joined them, never to be outdone in a demonstration of love for his queen… plotting to claim Sookie behind Sophie-Anne's back notwithstanding.

After both lawyers had taken their places on stage, Quinn came forward and handed over the master-at-arms' staff to the king of Kentucky, who used it to call the session to order. Each lawyer – Maimonides for Arkansas and Glassport for Louisiana – introduced himself and the faction he represented, then the Pythoness gave her solemn assent for the trial to begin. Andre returned to his place beside Sookie while Eric led Bill and Pam to stand against the wall, as near to Sophie-Anne as possible.

The trial began with the testimony of Henrik Feith, who used his moment in the spotlight to full advantage. He was long-winded, boring, and obviously insincere. Eric occupied himself with counting the number of times Pam heaved an impatient sigh.

8... 9…

"She doesn't want to kill you!" Everyone turned to look at Sookie, who was standing now as she called to Henrik. "Tell us who told you that, and we'll know who killed Jennifer Cater, because--"

"Woman, be silent," the Pythoness demanded. Eric was on guard, but Pam laid a hand on his arm. "Who are you, and what right do you have to intrude on these solemn proceedings?"

Sookie bowed her head humbly, though the old woman couldn't see her. "I don't have any right in the world, your majesty, but I know the truth."

A small laugh escaped Pam when Sookie addressed the old judge as royalty, but Eric turned and gave her a stern look. "Sorry," she mouthed.

"Then I have no role in these proceedings, do I?" the Pythoness asked with venom. "Why should I have come forth from my cave to give judgment?"

Wisely, Sookie maintained her submissive tone. "I may hear the truth, but I don't have the juice to get justice done."

Eric smiled at Sookie's terminology, and Pam gave another laugh. He didn't bother with a reproving glare this time. Instead he moved slowly, deliberately towards Sookie. The closer he got, the stronger he felt her fear. He had never known a human so bold and so brave. Time for you to discover another aspect of our bond, my dear. He mustered every shred of courage he possessed and directed it at her, glowing when she set her shoulders and straightened her back. It had worked.

The Pythoness still glared eerily in Sookie's direction, staring just past her, not seeing her. "Then come tell me what I must do."

Sookie made her way past the vampires beside her, and Eric followed her up to the chairs of the council members and moved to her side. Only then did he realize that he had chosen to protect Sookie instead of Sophie-Anne.

"Henrik thinks that the queen decided to have him killed," Sookie explained. "He was told that so he would testify against her in self-defense."

"The queen didn't decide to have me killed?" Henrik asked.

Sookie met Henrik's eyes as she took a few steps in his direction. "No, she didn't. She was sincere in offering you a place."

Oblivious to Sookie's sincerity, Henrik sneered. "You're probably lying, too. You're in her pay, after all."

The Pythoness chose that moment to intervene. "Perhaps I might have a word?" She focused her vacant stare in Sookie's direction. "Are you a seer?"

"No, ma'am, I'm a telepath," Sookie answered with the same Southern belle politeness she had shown on her first night at Fangtasia.

"You can read minds? Vampire minds?" the Pythoness asked. There was an uncomfortable shuffling in the large room as the vampires absorbed this possibility.

"No, ma'am," Sookie said quickly. "Those are the only ones I can't read. I pieced all this together from the lawyer's thoughts." She indicated Maimonides, who did not look pleased.

"All this was known to you?" the Pythoness asked him.

"Y-yes, I did know that Mr. Feith felt he was threatened with death," said Maimonides evasively.

"And you knew the queen had offered to accept him into her service?"

"Yes, he told me she said so."

Lawyers. Eric grimaced.

"And you did not believe the word of a vampire queen?" The Pythoness had adopted a dangerous tone.

"I felt it my duty to protect my client, Ancient Pythoness," he said.

She did not look impressed. "Hmm. Sophie-Anne Leclerq, it is your turn to present your side of the story. Will you proceed?"

Sophie-Anne gave a brief account of that night's events as the Pythoness nodded along, seemingly appreciative of the lack of embellishment. "In the time since that night, you have suffered many other losses," she said when Sophie-Anne had finished.

"As you say, I've had many losses, both in terms of my people and in terms of my income. This is why I need my inheritance from my husband, to which I'm entitled as part of our marriage covenant." Sophie-Anne smiled ruefully. "He thought he would inherit the rich kingdom of Louisiana. Now I will be glad if I can get the poor one of Arkansas."

The Pythoness sat back in her chair, deep in thought.

"Shall I call our witness?" Glassport asked. "She's already right here, and she was witness to Peter's death."

Eric watched as Glassport guided Sookie up onto the stage. The Pythoness still hadn't said anything, and everyone waited in expectant silence. Sookie had pulled the corner of her lower lip between her teeth.

Finally, the ancient vampire looked up at Sophie-Anne and spoke slowly. "Arkansas is yours by law, and now yours by right. I declare you innocent of conspiring to murder your husband. Now, Henrik," she continued, turning in his direction, "your safety is assured. Who has told you lies?"

The trembling Arkansas vampire walked up and stood next to Sookie. He opened his mouth to speak, but the words never came out. A stake had impaled him, spearlike. Eric and every other vampire in the room hit the floor. Had the stake been meant for Sophie-Anne? Was another one on its way? Flat on his stomach and forearms, Eric began making his way towards her. Andre had already thrown himself in her direction.

"What is happening?" the Pythoness screamed, looking around herself helplessly. "Why is everyone so tense? Where is the danger?"

From the corner of his eye, Eric saw Quinn throw himself in front of Sookie as a second wooden missile slammed into his shoulder. Sookie fell to the floor unharmed.

There was the sickening sound of torn flesh followed by a heavy thud, and Eric sat up and whirled around to see a decapitated vampire fall to his knees before flopping over to one side. Batanya the Britlingen had killed him. Now that it was safe, Eric scrabbled quickly over the few remaining feet to Sophie-Anne.

"Your majesty," he said, touching her shoulder. "You aren't hurt, are you?"

"No, no," she said. "Just rumpled."

Beside Eric, there were sounds of relief from Andre, Bill, and Pam. At that same moment, a loud shout of pain echoed through the room from the direction of Sookie and Quinn. Eric left Sophie-Anne in Andre's capable hands, since he doubted there was anything he could do about the queen being "rumpled."

As Eric had expected to be the case, the tiger had cried out when the arrow was removed from his shoulder. Cleo and Sookie were pressing items of clothing against his wound to stop the bleeding.

He sent calm to Sookie through the bond as he knelt down beside her. "He's going to heal," he told her in what he hoped was a reassuring tone. As much as he hated the shifter, Quinn had spared Sookie a nasty injury.

She nodded and swiped a tear from her cheek. "Yes."

She didn't say anything else, and he wondered if the silence was her way of reproving him for not saving her himself. "I know," he admitted. "I didn't see it coming."

Tucking a bit of hair behind her ear, she looked over at him. "Oh, would you have flung yourself in front of me?" she asked, skepticism written all over her face.

"No, because it might have hit me in the heart, and I would die. But I would have dived in and tackled you to take you out of the arrow's path if there had been time." She seemed to forget that Quinn was not a vampire; taking a wooden arrow would not mean instant death for him. She wasn't saying anything; was she angry? He touched her arm. "I know you may come to hate me because I spared you the bite of Andre, but I really am the lesser of two evils."

She gave him another glance, and her face softened. "I know that. I wouldn't have rather died than get bit by Andre, but it was a close thing."

Eric smiled at her, then laughed. He could accept being a fate better than… almost death. "The weretiger is regaining consciousness," he said. Sookie smiled and touched Quinn's cheek with real affection. He ran his eyes briefly over her face. "Do you love him?"

"Don't know yet," she said casually, brushing him off.

He was silent for a few seconds. "Did you love me?"

She didn't answer him, and she looked relieved when the paramedics showed up on cue to take Quinn. The tiger woke to full consciousness as they began flitting around him, checking his vitals.

"We'll make sure he gets healed in record time, lady," one of the paramedics, a shifter, assured Sookie.

"I'll check on him later," she said.

The paramedic smiled at her. "We'll take care of him. Among us, he'll do better. It's a privilege to take care of Quinn."

"I'm ready to be moved," Quinn said in a strained voice, and Sookie reached for his hand.

"See you later," she said gently. "You're the bravest of the brave, Quinn."

Eric gritted his teeth and swallowed the unnecessary comments he wanted to make.

"Babe, be careful," the tiger told her as he released her hand.

One of the paramedics, another shifter who had been studying Eric, said in a gruff voice, "Don't you be worrying about her. She's got guardians." Was the man an empath, able to read the feelings of others? Eric got the distinct impression that he was.

Damned right she has a guardian. Eric rose from his knees and offered his hand to Sookie to help her up. She held her hands over her chest as Quinn was loaded onto the stretcher. When he passed out again from the pain, she took a step towards him, only to be stopped by the empathic shifter.

"Sister, you just stay here," he told her kindly. "We're on the job now." He glanced one more time at Eric, then followed the rest of his crew with the stretcher.

Now that they were alone, Sookie could answer his question. He wanted – needed – to know the answer.

She looked up at him. "Did I love you?" She glanced away again and looked thoughtful. "Maybe, sort of. But I knew all along that whoever was with me, it wasn't the real you. And I knew sooner or later you'd remember who you were and what you were."

The words would have stung if she had said them in a cruel way, but she didn't. She didn't imply that who he was, what he was, was something bad. Just different. In any case, it pleased him that she hadn't fallen in love with the false version of himself. He preferred to think that if she came to love him – when she came to love him – it would be himself that she loved.

"You don't seem to have yes or no answers about men," he observed.

"You don't exactly seem to know how you feel about me, either."

This was hardly the time to tell her that he did, in fact, know how he felt about her. "You're a mystery," he said with a smile. "Who was your mother, and who was your father? Oh, I know, you'll say they raised you from a child and died when you were a little girl. I remember you telling me the story." He paused, trying to read her expression. "But I don't know if it's exactly true. If it is, when did the fairy blood enter your family tree? Did it come in with one of your grandparents? That's what I'm supposing."

She turned her nose up at him in that way he found both frustrating and endearing. "And what business is it of yours?" she asked haughtily.

"You know it is my business." He reached out and swiped his thumb lightly over her bottom lip. "Now we are tied."

Sookie frowned. "Is this going to fade? It will, right?" She crossed her arms. "We won't always be like this?"

Yes, the bond would fade over the years. But by that time, she would want to be bonded to him. She would learn to love the comfort of his presence, their ability to strengthen each other, their ability to weaken each other's pain by sharing it, the heightened pleasure when they made love, the protection he could offer her. They would be happy to renew their bond when it was needed. As much as he hated Andre, he was grateful for this unwanted thing that he was learning to appreciate.

He didn't answer her question. "I like being like this," he said, admitting it to himself as much as to her. "You'll like it, too."

Sookie blinked and looked as if she were casting about for something to say. When she did speak, it was to turn the conversation sharply in another direction. "Who was the vampire who tried to kill us?"

"Let's go find out."

He reached out and clasped her hand, threading his fingers through hers. She didn't flinch; she curled her fingers over his. His campaign to win her would be so much easier if he could please her with as much ease as she could please him. They moved through the crowd until they found Batanya. The Britlingen warrior was still standing over her kill, cleaning her weapon – a throwing star – on her pants. Eric nodded at her in greeting, and she returned the acknowledgment.

"Good throw. Who was he?" Eric asked her.

"I don't know. The guy with the arrows, was all I know." She held the throwing star to the light and examined it, then looked past it to flash Eric a lethal smile. "All I care."

"He was the only one?"

Batanya tucked the weapon into her clothing. "Yes," she said with finality.

The vampire's head had already disintegrated, and his body was following suit at a rapid pace. His clothes gave no hint as to who he was. "Can you tell me what he looked like?" he asked.

"I was sitting next to him," came a voice from behind Batanya. She turned and moved aside to reveal a short vampire whom Eric recognized from Bart Crowe's entourage. "He was a rough one, and not dressed for the evening. Khakis and a striped dress shirt…" He trailed off and motioned to the corpse. "Well, you can see."

Sookie, who had been standing quietly at Eric's side, took a step forward. She still hadn't released his hand. "Maybe he had a driver's license," she said.

A good suggestion, and one only a human would think to make. For all their frailty, humans were practical. With regret, Eric unlaced his fingers from Sookie's and crouched down beside the body. He searched both front pockets of the dress shirt with no luck, then rolled the body over. As was customary with human men, a black leather wallet had been stuffed in the vampire's back pocket. Eric removed it and unfolded it to reveal an Illinois driver's license bearing the name Kyle Perkins. His address was in Rhodes, and he was newly made: only three years old. The young ones were easily manipulated by their makers and elders alike.

Sookie reached for the plastic card, and Eric handed it up to her. "He must have been an archer before he died, because that's not a skill you'd pick up right away," she pointed out. "Especially that young." She returned the card to Eric, who rose to his feet.

"I agree," he said, "and in the daytime, I want you to check all the local places you can practice archery. Throwing arrows is not a skill you can improvise. He trained. The arrow was specially made." He set his jaw grimly. "We need to find out what happened to Kyle Perkins and why this rogue accepted the job to attend this meeting and kill whomever necessary." Eric had his doubts that the newborn would freely accept what was essentially a suicide mission.

"So he was a…" Sookie frowned. "A vampire hit man?"

"Yes, I think so." Eric glanced at Batanya, who nodded her agreement. "Someone is maneuvering us very carefully. Of course, this Perkins was simply backup in case the trial went wrong." He cupped her shoulder with his hand. "And if it hadn't been for you, the trial might well have gone wrong. Someone went to a lot of trouble to play on Henrik Feith's fears, and stupid Henrik was about to give that someone up. This Kyle…" Eric nudged the now-shapeless pile of clothes with the toe of his dress shoe. "He was planted to prevent just that."

He, Sookie, and Batanya stood in thoughtful silence as a crew of vampire janitors swept in to take the hit man's remains.

"My work here is done," Batanya said when the last traces of ash had been cleared. Moments after she strode away, Sookie giggled.

"What's funny?" he asked.

"I guess nothing about this is funny," she said, staring down at the spot where Kyle Perkins had been. "But…" She looked up at him and smiled. "That line could've been straight out of a movie."

They stood together in comfortable silence and watched as the room was transformed from a courtroom to a ballroom. Only a few of the vampires from the trial had needed to go back to their rooms to change, and those were the unlucky few who had been in the flight path of Kyle Perkins' head. Across the room, Sophie-Anne was chatting with a semi-circle of friends and subjects.

"You had better check in with the queen," Eric reminded Sookie.

"Oh. Yeah, she might have a few words to say to me." She gave a resigned sigh as she looked over at Sophie-Anne. "Eric, where'd the old gal go?"

He was momentarily confused. Why would she ask that when she was looking right at the queen? Then he realized the person she meant. Ah, Sookie, and her always entertaining way with words.

"The Ancient Pythoness is the original oracle that Alexander consulted," he told her. "She was considered so revered that even in her old age, she was converted by the very primitive vampires of her time, and now she has outlasted all of them." He wondered what the Pythoness would think of a young human barmaid referring to her as "the old gal," and the corner of his mouth twitched. "To answer your question," he continued, "I would guess her handmaidens have removed her to her suite. She is brought out for special occasions."

"Like the good silver." She started laughing, her high spirits racing through his blood in a joyful gallop.

He smiled back at her, and it was a smile more of affection than amusement. For the few decades that Sookie had left, his existence would never be dull. And after… "After" was something he chose not to think about.

He reached for her hand again; again she accepted it, and they walked together to stand with the queen.

Chapter Text

Following a round of small talk, the start of the ball was finally announced, and the emcee introduced a pair of dancers from Rhodes. Eric knew the male. Sean, once a fierce Celtic warrior, was even older than Eric himself. Sean had attended various summits before, but Eric had never known the fiery-haired Celt to be a dancer. He shifted his gaze to the female, Layla. It was immediately clear that she was newly made. If asked to guess, Eric would have said she wasn't a year old. She was a lovely woman, very graceful as she moved with her partner.

The band played a well-done arrangement of Robert Burns' poem, "A Red, Red Rose," and the singer voiced the lyrics with passion.

O my Luve's like a red, red rose
That's newly sprung in June:
O my Luve's like the melodie
That's sweetly play'd in tune!

As fair art thou, my bonnie lass,
So deep in luve am I:
And I will luve thee still, my dear,
Till a' the seas gang dry:

Till a' the seas gang dry, my dear, 
And the rocks melt wi' the sun;
I will luve thee still, my dear,
While the sands o' life shall run.

And fare thee weel, my only Luve, 
And fare thee weel a while! 
And I will come again, my Luve,
Tho' it were ten thousand mile.

Eric stole a glance at Sookie, who seemed enchanted by the couple and their dance. Her eyes widened when Sean ended the dance by dipping Layla and biting her long neck. She looked around to gauge the reaction of the other vampires in the room, and then her eyes found Eric's.

Do you understand what you've just seen? he wondered as he stared down at her. A vampire who turned his lover, and now they'll never be parted. Do you see how happy they are?

Sookie flushed and looked away from him quickly. Perhaps she had felt the intensity of his desire through the bond, or perhaps she had read it on his face. He refused to let the moment escape them.

He laid a hand on her waist, just at the inviting curve of her hip, and leaned to say softly near her ear, "Let's dance."

"Yes," she said, and the nervous tremor in her voice was a small victory.

He followed her out onto the floor, turned her around in his arms, and pulled her close. The music was upbeat and elegant, and he led her into a Viennese waltz. She was a good dancer; she followed well, she knew how to move her body, and she took pleasure in it. She was happy. And he was happy. Not amused or triumphant or pleased. Happy.

They passed Sean and Layla, and the latter complimented Sookie on her dress.

"Thank you," Sookie replied, her face glowing.

He smiled at her. "That is a pretty dress, and you are a beautiful woman."

"Eric…"

Before she could say something to ruin the moment, he spun her faster, whirling her around the dance floor until she was breathless. Her hair whipped around her as if she were flying. And why shouldn't she be flying? With a grin, he put both hands on her slim waist and lifted her up above his head. She gave a little shriek of surprise, then she laughed. Her laugh was loud and free and giddy, and it made him laugh, too. He tossed her up and released her waist, catching her in his arms when she fell. He did it again and again until the song ended, letting her blood communicate with him in a way that she never permitted her words to do. Nothing she could say could undo what her blood told him: that he made her happy.

She was winded and a little wobbly when they stopped moving. She looked like she wanted to tell him something, but she decided against it. "Thank you," she said at last. "Excuse me while I go to the ladies' room."

Eric had danced with Pam and a sheriff from Indiana before Sookie returned to the ballroom, dragging Barry the telepath behind her. She danced with him the way she had danced with her friend Tara at Club Dead. He had enjoyed it then, but it wasn't as entertaining when she was with another man. And it wasn't as entertaining when the eyes of several powerful vampires looked hungrily in her direction.

He told himself the lie that concern for her safety, rather than jealousy, propelled him over to the dancing couple. "What are you doing?" he demanded.

"Dancing," she said lightly. "Why?"

Barry stopped dancing and inched away from her, but she continued rolling her hips in a way that made Eric want to fuck her right then and there. Eric narrowed his eyes at Barry, who got the message and left without wasting a second.

Sookie stopped dancing and glared up at him. "I was having a good time!"

He leaned in closer and hissed, "You were twitching your assets in front of every male in the room like a--"

"You hold up, buddy!" Her index finger had appeared between them, inches from his chin. "You stop right there!"

"Take your finger out of my face," he said coldly. It was difficult to concentrate on being angry when he really wanted to suck her finger into his mouth… perhaps prick it with his fangs and swirl his tongue around her sweet blood…

Before Sookie could reply, Sean came up behind her and slid his arm around her waist. "Dance, darling?" he asked.

Eric watched as Sean moved her away, and then he felt feather-light fingers on his wrist. "Will you do me the honor?" a female voice asked. It was Layla. He gave a curt nod and led her into the slow waltz that had just started. "Sean told me that you're Eric Northman, a sheriff in Louisiana," she said.

"Yes."

"And the human woman dancing with Sean… she's your mate?"

He gave a wry smile. "I couldn't tell you what she is."

"You are bonded." It wasn't a question.

"Yes."

"Can I be frank with you?"

"You can say whatever you like," he told her. Straight-forward people were too difficult to come by.

"Sean turned me by accident. It wasn't what I wanted." Her gaze wandered away from Eric's face to a point beyond him, and he knew she was smiling at Sean. She looked back at him. "I loved my family. I had just graduated from college, and I wanted to be a dance instructor. I wanted kids. Am I happy now with Sean? Oh, yes." Another wistful smile. "But I would rather love him as the human woman I was."

Sean and Sookie had moved to the opposite side of them now, and Eric looked at Sookie, now calm and smiling. "Why are you telling me this?" he asked.

"She's afraid to let herself love you. I was always wary of Sean. I thought about what would happen when I turned eighty and he was still young and beautiful. I loved being with him, but what we had… it always seemed like something that couldn't be trusted. And then we exchanged blood one time too many."

"Now it's better for you both," he insisted.

"No, don't you see? I would be naïve if I really thought that Sean and I would be together forever. Even the very strongest love would necessarily fade over centuries in each other's company. It would be unbearable. Humans share each other's lives as they mature and age. They watch their children's milestones. They hold their grandchildren. What Sean and I have, it will never change. We're locked in time with a love that can't evolve."

"You are saying that I must lose Sookie either way, eventually."

She nodded, but her eyes weren't sad. "Yes. Embrace her humanity, Eric. Until you can do that, she'll never trust your feelings for her."

"I can't do that. Humans are too fragile. Too easily snuffed out. A traffic accident, or some Fellowship of the Sun zealot, and she would be gone without a warning."

Layla smiled. "And that's what makes her precious."

Chapter Text

Eric told himself that Layla hadn't been a vampire long enough to appreciate that their kind did, in fact, grow and change over the years, even if their bodies stayed the same. He knew vampire couples – few, to be sure – who had been together ever since one turned the other centuries before. In one case, the couple had stayed together over a millennium… and counting.

Yet Layla had advised him to embrace Sookie's humanity. That was something he could not do. He wouldn't accept it, and he certainly wouldn't embrace it. Pam was no less "precious" to him because she could never die. He attributed this mistaken perspective, too, to Layla's inexperience with her new life.

There was one bit of illumination Layla had provided, however: that Sookie was afraid to love him because she didn't trust his feelings to last. He did have difficulty imagining himself with Sookie when she was white-haired, wrinkled, and bent, primarily because it had been his intention (and was still, he admitted to himself) to prevent that from happening.

Sookie didn't stay in the ballroom for long after that, and Eric wandered over to the corner where Bill had been standing idly for most of the evening. "Forget how to dance?" he asked.

Bill frowned and turned away. "No taste for it this evening. I trust you are Sookie's hero since you went upstairs to gallantly take the bomb from her. I saw her face when she danced with you."

"Bitterness doesn't suit you, Bill," Eric needled. "It was better not to have many people running up there to save the day. The situation was already… explosive." He grinned at the pun and grinned even more when Bill gave him a look. "Let it go," he said. "It's done. If it makes you feel any better, I am hardly her hero at the moment. Now, about why I walked over here to interrupt your brooding."

"Yes, please get to that."

"The arrow-tosser was obviously a trained archer, and I told Sookie to investigate archery facilities here in Rhodes. All we have is a name: Kyle Perkins. His driver's license had a photo, but it was too worn to make out anything clear. I want you to look him up with your little computer game and see if there's a better picture. Whatever you find, leave it for her at the front desk."

Bill took a pencil stub from his suit pocket and scribbled the name on a napkin. "I'll do it to help her," he said.

"Your chivalry is truly touching." He left Bill and went to the hotel desk to arrange for Sookie to have use of one of the cars that Sophie-Anne had just inherited from Arkansas. Satisfied that everything was arranged for Inspector Stackhouse's work the next day, he returned to the ballroom and didn't leave until the horizon began to fade from black to brown.

When he rose the next night, he went immediately in search of Sookie, who didn't appear until well after dark. He found her in the crowded hotel lobby, arguing with the Dallas telepath. The latter was screeching at her too loudly for Eric's taste. He used his vampire speed to place himself right beside them, smiling slightly when Barry turned ashen and stumbled back.

"And you're yelling at my--" Eric stopped midsentence. The dangerous word "blood-mate" (the now-archaic term for what Russell and Bart had become to each other) had been on the tip of his tongue, and Sookie's eyes were flashing as if she dared him to claim ownership of her in any way. "…at Sookie," he finished lamely.

"Do you need something?" she asked with a withering look.

His happiness upon seeing her thoroughly quashed by her mood, he didn't dance around the point. "What did you find out today?"

She didn't answer right away, and he waited as she said goodbye to Barry.

"Come," he said, extending his arm to lead her back towards the elevators. He pushed the button for the ninth floor and leaned back comfortably against the elevator wall. "Pam was just finishing her hair when I left the room, so she should be gone now. We can speak in private." She nodded. "You look tired," he observed, and she nodded again.

He showed her into the room. She looked around for a few moments, then sat down on the edge of his bed. The temptation to sit beside her was great, but he knew that would be the opposite of helpful. He sat on Pam's bed and rested his elbows on his knees, leaning forward across the small space between the two beds.

She was upset; even if her behavior hadn't been enough of a clue, her blood told him outright. "Tell me," he said gently.

She took a deep breath. "Well, it's not good." He frowned, waiting for her to continue, and she explained that she had found the right place, and that "the gal behind the counter" had been willing to help, but… "We came back at the appointed time, and she was dead… murdered in the store. I went past her to look in the office, and the tapes had been burned."

Another vampire? "Killed how?" he asked.

"She'd been stabbed," Sookie said with a shudder, "and the knife was left in her chest. And the killer or someone with him had thrown up food." She rubbed her upper arms briskly with her palms. "Also, a guy who worked at the store was killed, but I didn't check him out to see how."

"Ah." None of this explained why Barry had been yelling at her, or why she felt… what was that? Guilty, he realized. She felt guilty. It was something he hadn't felt in many centuries. "Anything else?"

"No." She stood up.

He sat up to better meet her gaze, but he didn't stand. "Barry was angry with you."

"Yeah, he was," she said with a shrug. "But he'll get over it."

"What's his problem?" he pressed.

She looked down and studied her shoes, the carpet, whatever else was down there. "He doesn't think I handled the…" She swallowed, and despite the partial shield of her downcast eyelids, he could see that her eyes had brimmed a little. "He doesn't think we should've left, or… I don't know. He thinks I was unfeeling."

That's because his blood can't tell him that you are nothing but feeling, my dear one. What would the idiot have had her do? Report the crime – which would be discovered soon anyway – to the police and have herself and everyone in the hotel investigated by humans who knew nothing? The security tapes had been lost, but her investigation had nonetheless been invaluable.

"I think you did exceptionally well," he said. And fuck what Barry thinks.

"Well, great!" she snapped. She winced and looked at him, immediately apologetic. "Sorry. I know you meant to compliment me." She sank back down onto the edge of his bed. "I'm not feeling all that good about her dying, or leaving her, even if it was the practical thing to do."

"You're second-guessing herself."

She nodded and blinked back the tears that still welled in her eyes. "Yes."

Before he could reply, a knock at the door interrupted them. He wasn't done with Sookie yet, so he ignored it, but she leapt to her feet to answer it. Eric looked over his shoulder to see Bill standing there, then turned back to stare ahead at the spot where Sookie had been. He waited for her to tell Bill to go. Instead, Bill strode into his line of sight, and Eric peered over his shoulder again to see that Sookie had slipped out.

"What do you want?" he asked Bill.

"You made a blood bond with her?"

Eric looked up at him and smirked. "You would have preferred to see her bonded to Andre?"

"I would have preferred to see her bonded with none of us! But at least Andre would have seen her rarely, and she could have gone about her life!"

"You are a fool."

"That may be, but at least I love her and try to protect her from predators like you and Andre, who only care about using her up or fucking her or both, then casting her aside like yesterday's fang-banger. When I heard Sophie-Anne mention the bond in our meeting an hour ago, I--"

"Bill," Eric interrupted, and he spoke slowly. "If you value your miserable, undead life, get the fuck out of here."

"Wh--"

"Now."

* * *

"Eric!"

"Sookie…" He bent to kiss her hungrily as he thrust into her faster, their compounded pleasure surging up between them.

"Now," she gasped as she bared her neck to him. "Do it now. Turn me."

He bit.

"ERIC!"

He fought up through the dream, up through the daytime stupor, and tried to open his eyes. "W-what?" he mumbled. Even the sight of Sookie standing over his bed couldn't stop his eyes from drifting shut again.

"You have to get up!" she shouted, and he felt her hands on his shoulders, shaking him. "You have to! You have to go out!"

Somewhere in the distance he heard an alarm buzzer, but his mind didn't process it. "Daytime," he said, shifting away from her.

Then she slapped him. "Get! Up! Get up, Eric! Please, get up!"

It was her blood, rather than her voice, that roused him at last. Her fear and desperation twisted inside him until everything hurt. Once his body was awake, it was fairly easy for his mind to follow suit. He sat up, though it felt like he was supporting tons of bricks on his shoulders. The hotel was actually shaking.

He looked around the room, trying to will his body to move, as Sookie covered him with the black robe from Russell's wedding. "Cover your head!" she shouted at him. There was an explosion overhead. He watched as she shook Pam, screamed at her, pulled her hair. Sookie was crying now as she returned to him and laid her hands on his shoulders. "You have to help me get Pam out, Eric. You just have to."

Whether or not she had done it intentionally, she was transferring strength from herself into him. The floor shook beneath their feet, Sookie screamed, and the connection snapped. But the incredible weight of day no longer felt impossible to lift. If he didn't move, Sookie would die. He and Pam would die. Sookie had used the bond to rouse him. Sookie had come to save his life. He swung his legs out to the side of the bed and lifted himself up.

Bash one of the coffins through the window. One of them had said it. Or thought it.

He helped her slide his coffin over to the window as the building shook again. "Pam," she said urgently. He nodded and concentrated on taking each laborious step towards Pam as Sookie knelt to open his coffin. That done, she helped him carry Pam and lay – well, drop – her inside. Eric blinked against the pull of sleep as Sookie latched Pam safely inside the coffin.

"We have to break the glass!" she shouted at him.

It took two shoves, but the heavy plate glass finally broke and fell away.

Sunlight seared into him like fire, clawing under his flesh and ripping at him. He felt himself scream, though he was in too much pain to process the sound. His hands burning, he drew the edges of the cloak more closely around himself, reached for Sookie, and held her close to him as they sat on the coffin and used their feet to force it out of the window. Sookie cried out as the coffin slid, rattling, down the side of the pyramid-shaped hotel. Eric could stay with the coffin and earn only a few bruises, but he knew very well that Sookie would not survive such a crash.

He made his decision and let the coffin go. Pam would burn if it broke, but she would survive. Now to make sure that Sookie survived as well. He kept his eyes closed to protect them from the scorching sun, so he couldn't see where he was going. All he knew was down. If anyone wanted to see Eric Northman flying at his best, they could find him at night and pay for a ticket. Today, they could all fuck themselves.

He heard the splintering of wood not far beneath them, and he opened one eye to see where Pam had fallen. Smoke was rising up from her burning skin. He landed over her and spread out the edges of the robe to cover what he could.

Sirens neared, and he heard Sookie yell, "Two vampires! Get them out of the sun!"

Then he fell asleep.

Chapter Text

"The last of my burns have healed."

Eric looked up from his bills to see Pam framed by the doorway of his office, her fingers pressed to her forehead. When she moved them, he saw that the skin of her face was once again flawless and white. Her recovery had been painful, and his slightly less so, but none of the Rhodes victims had suffered as Sophie-Anne did. Their queen had lost both of her legs, not to mention Andre. Judging from the news Eric occasionally received from Gervaise's people, she was more distraught over the latter. He himself had tried to feel an appropriate regret for Andre, but he soon gave that up. Andre's death made Sookie safer – made him safer – and he was not sorry for it.

He removed the pen he had stuck absently between his teeth and gave Pam a quick appraisal. "Good as new." With the return of Pam's health, it seemed, came her flair for entertaining the clientele; she wore a shiny black leather dress that must have been tighter than any corset she'd been tied into during her human life. "Who painted on your dress?" he asked with a smile.

"Like it?" She spun on her stiletto heels to give him the full view. Before he could answer her, the phone rang, and she reached for it. "Fangtasia, where all your darkest dreams come true." He watched as her expression turned to confusion. "Who?" she asked after a moment. Another silence. "One moment." She laid her hand over the receiver and whispered, "Niall Brigant? It has to be a prank."

Eric pushed away the budget and took the phone. No one who knew that name would make a prank call about it. He raised his eyebrows and indicated the door, and Pam left without a word. "I am here," he said.

"So you are." No, it was no prank. Eric hadn't heard the voice in over a century, but he would have recognized it anywhere. "We heard about the misfortune in Rhodes."

"Yes." Eric tapped the pen once, twice, three times. "I assume that Rhodes isn't why you called me."

"Not entirely, no," the fairy replied, "although it was the catalyst. My great-granddaughter was staying in that hotel."

"Sookie." It wasn't a guess; as soon as Niall had spoken the words "great-granddaughter," Eric had known beyond any doubt. Of all the fairies who could have been Sookie's ancestor, did it have to be one so powerful? His bond with her was much more dangerous than he had imagined, especially if Niall knew ab--

"Yes, and you performed the bonding rite with her." Shit. He could almost hear the ancient fairy smiling in the brief silence that followed. "I have no quarrel with you, vampire. In fact, I called to ask for your help. I would like to meet Sookie at last, and I want you to bring her to me. She trusts you."

"Wouldn't that be dangerous for both of you?" Eric hedged.

"I think you and I can agree that intimacy with those we love is worth the danger."

"Tell me where you want to meet her."

* * *

He called Sookie's house and left a message with the witch, but Sookie didn't return his call until the following night.

"Hello?" he answered when he picked up the phone. Clancy had simply said, "Phone, boss," and shut the office door again, with no indication of who was calling.

"I'm sorry I didn't call you back before now," came Sookie's welcome voice. "I just got your message. Did you call about my money?"

No greeting. Immediately asking about money. It was always business with her, as if she stubbornly refused to treat him as a friend, much less as a lover. To be fair, Sophie-Anne should have paid her for Rhodes by now. He jotted down a note to ask the queen next time they spoke.

"No, about something else entirely," he told her. "Will you go out with me tomorrow night?"

"Eric," she sighed after an awkward silence, "I'm dating Quinn."

"And how long has it been since you've seen him?" He knew for a fact that Quinn hadn't come near Louisiana since the bombing. If Sookie was indeed dating him, it was in name only.

"Since Rhodes," she admitted, and he heard uncertainty and hurt in her voice. Had the bastard even called her?

"How long has it been since you heard from him?"

"Since Rhodes."

Eric clenched and unclenched his fist. What kind of man would fail to see or call his lover after a bombing, for fuck's sake? "I think you can give me one evening. It doesn't sound as though Quinn has you booked." As soon as he spoke the words, he winced. What he had intended to be a jab at Quinn instead sounded like a jab at her.

He heard a sharp intake of breath. "That was mean."

"It's Quinn who's cruel," he said through gritted teeth, "promising you he'd be here and then not keeping his word."

"Do you know what's happened to him? Do you know where he is?"

The question – and the accusation it seemed to imply – would have offended him if he hadn't heard the worry and desperation in her tone. Quinn could go fuck himself, but Sookie was unhappy, Sookie was the one he cared about, and Sookie was the one on the other end of the line.

"No, I don't know," he said softly. Enough about Quinn. "But there is someone in town who wants to meet you. I promised I would arrange it. I'd like to take you to Shreveport myself."

"You mean that guy Jonathan?" she asked. While Eric racked his brain for a Jonathan, she went on, "He came to the wedding and introduced himself. I've got to say, I didn't much care for the guy. No offense if he's a friend of yours."

"Jonathan?" he said when she paused to breathe. "What Jonathan?"

He frowned as she described the Asian vampire she'd seen. He wasn't anyone Eric knew, and he certainly hadn't "checked in." Whatever this person had heard about Sookie, it hadn't been from Eric.

"I don't know him," he told her. "I'll ask here at Fangtasia to see if anyone has seen him." What he didn't tell her was that he was going to have his people actively searching for this Jonathan. An unauthorized vampire seeking out Sookie was not something to be taken lightly. "And I'll prompt the queen about your money," he added, "though she is… not herself. Now, will you please do what I'm asking you to do?"

She sighed. "I guess. Who am I meeting, and where?"

"I'll have to let the who remain a mystery," he said with a smile. "As to where, we'll go to dinner at a nice restaurant. The kind you'd call casual dressy."

"You don't eat. What will you do?"

I'll sit in my car and fantasize about drinking fairies. "I'll introduce you and stay as long as you need me to."

"Okay. I'll get off work about six or six-thirty." She didn't seem very interested; then again, how was she to know that she would be meeting her fairy grandfather?

"I'll be there to pick you up at seven."

"Give me till seven thirty," she said. "I need to change." She sounded resigned, tired, and moody.

They had been apart for too long, and their bond, for lack of a better expression, didn't like it.

"You'll feel better when you see me." I'll feel better when I see you.

"Better" didn't begin to describe the tide of happiness that swept through him the next night when she opened the door. He hadn't seen her since that terrible morning in the sun, and he felt ridiculously like an over-eager puppy who had just found its favorite toy. He could almost hear Pam sneering at him. But how else to describe this completely irrational, completely foreign pleasure? He wanted to forget Niall, lead Sookie inside, tear her "casual dressy" clothes off, and take her against the wall. Or some piece of furniture. Maybe the shower. Or all of those places in sequence. Then repeat. He wanted to drink her dry, but that would mean no refills.

He settled for a kiss on the cheek.

"Thanks," she said as he opened the car door for her. She had already buckled her seat belt when he joined her inside and started the car. "I'm glad to see you're all better."

"I can still feel the sun burning under my skin sometimes, but that will fade."

They rode on in silence for a while, and Eric enjoyed it. When Sookie was quiet, her blood could speak for her, and he liked what it told him: that she felt safe and content and, yes, happy here with him. He was also grateful because the silence allowed him to think about what he wanted to tell her. With Quinn out of the picture and Andre dead, there was nothing to prevent them from taking hold of the happiness that could be theirs.

"How's Pam?" she asked. "I talked to her a couple weeks ago, and she was still in a lot of pain."

"Pam is doing well."

"That's good." Another long stretch of silence. "Did you find out anything else about that Jonathan guy?"

"We'll talk about that later," he said easily, not wanting anything unpleasant to dispel their comfortable peace. But what if she had asked for a reason? "You haven't seen him again, have you?"

"No. Should I expect to?"

He answered her with an absent shake of his head. Was this a good time to say what he wanted to say, or should he wait until she had met Niall? He decided to warm her to the idea slowly.

"I'm glad for your sake that it appears Andre didn't survive the bombing," he said.

"I'm sure the queen will miss him." Both her voice and her blood gave away the fact that there was more to tell there, but that could wait.

"The queen is distraught, and her healing will take months more," he told her frankly. He turned back to the road. "What I was beginning to say…" What had he been about to say?

"What?" Sookie pressed.

"You saved my life. You saved my life, and Pam's, too." You risked your own life because you didn't want to lose me. You love me. Say it.

"Yeah, well…" That's it? Yeah, well? He waited. "We do have the blood tie thing going," she pointed out.

He could see where this was leading. Would she pin everything on that now? When denying her feelings stopped working, blame the blood bond?

"That's not why you came to wake me first of all the day the hotel blew up," he said gently, even though she must already know it. "But we won't talk further about this now. You have a big evening ahead."

Neither of them spoke again until Eric parked in the small shopping center where the restaurant was located. He turned off the car and looked at Sookie just in time to see her examining her clothes uncertainly.

"Don't worry." His eyes fell from her eyes to her mouth. "You're beautiful."

He unbuckled her seat belt for her and looked at her again for a second before he tasted her lips briefly. It had been too long, and the kiss was too short, but now was not the time. Later, after she spoke with Niall. Later they would reach an understanding. He pulled himself away from her unwillingly and walked around the car to open her door. He took her hand to help her out, and he held onto it as he led her to the door. She was nervous. He stroked her palm lightly with his thumb; her shiver surprised and pleased him.

"A party of two?" asked the greeter when they walked in.

"We're meeting someone," he told her.

Her eyebrows flew up. "Oh! The gentleman…" She trailed off. Clearly, Niall hadn't lost his ability to make an impression.

"Yes," Eric nodded.

"Right this way, please." She led the way to Niall's table and indicated Sookie's chair. "Your server will be with you shortly."

Niall had obviously worked a bit of magic to hide his scent because Eric didn't detect a trace of it. He watched as the fairy rose to seat Sookie. She gave Eric a questioning look; touched by her trust in him, he smiled and nodded, sending a bit of calm her way through his blood. When both of them were seated, Sookie looked up at him again, obviously wondering why he didn't join them. She wanted him there, but Niall had made it clear on the phone that he wanted to speak with Sookie alone.

"Child," said the fairy. When Sookie turned to him, he revealed to her one pointed ear.

If she was surprised, she didn't really show it. "Okay…" she said with a little nod.

Eric touched her shoulder. "Sookie, this is Niall Brigant. He's going to talk to you over supper. I'll be outside if you need me."

He acknowledged Niall with a quick nod and left them alone. Apart from a short moment in which he felt Sookie get terribly upset, the hours passed uneventfully. He contented himself with reading a history of the Count of St. Germain and downing two bottles of TrueBlood that he had stashed in the glove compartment. Sookie would smell like a veritable fairy banquet when she emerged from the restaurant, and he had to take precautions.

When he felt her getting closer, he left the car and leaned back against it to wait for her. He started on another bottle of TrueBlood just in case.

Fairy banquet, indeed. She was a walking orgy. Every step she took across the parking lot was an invitation – no, a demand – to take her in every sense of the word. He closed his eyes, inhaled, licked the traces of fairy-perfumed air settling on his lips.

"Snap out of it," Sookie said, snapping her fingers in front of his face.

He opened his eyes and focused on her face until there was only one of her. "When you smell like that…" He leaned a fraction of an inch closer to her. "I just want to fuck you and bite you and rub myself all over you."

She wanted him; she was afraid of him. She acted on neither impulse. "Hold your horses. What do you know about fairies, aside from how they taste?"

Draining the last of the TrueBlood, he opened the car door and tossed the bottle inside. He leaned on the door and imagined it as a barrier between himself and the woman he was fighting not to drain. The temptation to drink every drop of her blood and then turn her was close to overpowering him. He told her what he knew about fairies, and it was an effective distraction.

"So in the past, the vampires and the fairies have fought each other?" Sookie asked as they settled themselves into the car. "I mean like pitched battles?" She buckled her seat belt.

"Yes. And if it came to that again, the first one I'd take out is Niall," he told her frankly.

She gaped for a second. "Why?"

"He's very powerful in the fairy world. He is very magical." He knows that he could use you to kill me. He looked away from her as he backed out of his parking space, then found her eyes again while he waited to turn onto the road. "If he's sincere in his desire to take you under his wing, you're both very lucky and very unlucky."

"I guess I have to ask you to explain that."

"There were thousands of fairies in the United States once. Now there are only hundreds. But the ones that are left are very determined survivors, and not all of those are friends of the prince's."

"Oh, good," Sookie sighed. "I needed another supernatural group who dislikes me."

They fell into silence as Eric considered what he would say to her when they reached her house. He noticed absently that the speedometer was topping 100. Sookie cleared her throat in an exaggerated way, and he looked from her to the flashing lights in his rearview mirror.

"Jävlar." He slowed and pulled over to the wide shoulder of the interstate, muttering a few more choice words under his breath.

Sookie was grinning from ear to ear. At least someone was enjoying this. "With a vanity plate like bloodsucker, what do you expect?" Suddenly, her face darkened. "Were!" she hissed. "There's something wrong!"

A split-second later, he had turned off the car's lights, pushed her down from the seat into the large area of the floorboard, and leaned over to shield her with his body. He had expected danger from her association with Niall, but not so soon as this. The Were shot through the window, and the bullet tore into Eric's neck with ripping pain. The force of it slammed him back in his seat for a moment.

Perhaps stupidly unaware that he couldn't kill a vampire with a bullet in the neck, the Were stuck his head and arm through the window to go for Sookie, but Eric was too fast for him. Eric seized the Were's wrist and tightened his grip until he heard the bones crunching together. The Were's fingers lost their hold on the gun, which fell into Sookie's lap, and she quickly scooped it up and aimed it at him.

"Who are you?" she demanded, pointing the gun inches from his terrified face. "Who sent you?" Her eyes were flashing, ruthless, sexy as hell.

He was turned on and furious, and the scent of blood – both his own and the Were's – pervaded the small space inside the car. If that weren't enough, Sookie still smelled like a fairy banquet. His fangs extended. Whatever information this asshole had, Sookie would have to get it, and fast.

The creature gasped and whimpered. "They told me to."

"They who?" Sookie persisted, her voice deliciously hard and cold.

They would get nothing from this fool. Eric bit savagely and relished the blood that flooded into his mouth.

"Don't let him turn me into one of them," the Were sobbed, pleading with Sookie.

Eric would have laughed if he weren't so pleasantly occupied. As if he would turn this pathetic sack of shit into his own immortal child. As if he would give this worm the gift he had given to Pam… the gift he would eventually give to Sookie.

"You should be so lucky," Sookie told him. She opened her car door and got out as Eric finished off the miserable Were.

Sookie turned off the flashing lights in the Were's car, and Eric used the cover of darkness to drag his victim out of the car and over to the slope just off the shoulder of the interstate. He drank only a little more, even though he had lost a lot of blood. The Were tasted foul. He swiped his hand roughly over his lips and chin. All things considered, he had made tidy work of it.

He watched as Sookie walked back to the Corvette and looked for him inside. He watched her clean his blood from his car seat. He admired the curves of her body in the dark. In a flash, he came up behind her and turned her in his arms, pressing her to the side of the car. He raked his fingers through her hair and held her there, inhaling her scent, absorbing her warmth. A wave of lust crested inside him, and he realized that it was hers, too. He kissed her only briefly before she tore her mouth away, panting.

If his self-control was a cliff and fucking Sookie violently against the car was the chasm below, he was hanging on to the edge with only the tips of his fingers. He thought of her in the car trunk in Jackson, and he let her go and stepped back.

Sookie's eyes were wide as they settled on the wound in his neck, and she reached out to inspect it. Because she couldn't know his thoughts of the past few minutes, she didn't fear him; she cared for him. Her blood was calming him, soothing the monster inside.

"What was that about?" he asked in a reasonably level voice as she examined his neck. "Was that an enemy of yours?"

She shivered and folded her arms across her chest as she looked over at the Were's car, now dark and silent. "I have no idea."

Of course the attacker had been her enemy. She must know that. "He shot at you. He wanted you first," he pointed out.

"But what if he did that to hurt you?" she asked, and he froze. She knew, then, that she was his weakness. That she was in danger because people could use her to get to him. But then she continued, "What if he would have blamed my death on you?" As blind as ever, dear one. Just when you approach the truth, you lose sight of it again. That's not how your death would hurt me. Could she really not see what she was to him, or did she willfully deny it to herself? When he had no reply to give her, she added, "And how'd they find us?"

"Someone who knew we'd be driving back to Bon Temps tonight. Someone who knew what car I was in." Only Niall fit that description, but Niall wouldn't try to have his great-granddaughter murdered. As much as he feared and mistrusted the fairy, he knew that much to be true.

"It couldn't have been Niall," Sookie said quickly, as if she had read his mind.

"I don't think it was the fairy, either," he assured her. A car sped past, its lights fading in the distance. "But we'd better talk about it on the road. This isn't a good place for us to linger." Especially since a mangled Were lay at the foot of the shoulder.

They got back in the car, and Eric pulled out onto the interstate. The silence between them wasn't comfortable now, but dark and brooding. What he had wanted to say to her when they reached her house would have to wait. Sookie shivered, and he glanced over at her for what must have been the hundredth time.

"What are you thinking about, Sookie? Your face has had thoughts rippling across it too fast to follow."

"Eric, just get me home," she sighed. She propped her elbow on the car door and leaned her head against her hand. "I'm in emotional overload."

He turned onto the neatly graveled road to her house. "We need to talk about this again," he told her. She said nothing. He stopped the car and turned to her. "Sookie," he said softly, tracing his fingertips down the side of her neck, "I'm hurting. Can I…?"

Goosebumps rose on her skin and her heart quickened. His request to have some of her blood had, it seemed, made her want him. He saw her knuckles whiten as she clenched her fists.

Then he felt the bullet moving inside his neck. He closed his eyes and rested his head back, gritting his teeth as his body expelled it. When the bullet fell, Sookie caught it and closed it in her fingers. He wondered absently what she had done with the bullet she had picked up and kept in Dallas.

"I think you can make it home," she told him. She got out of the car, turned, and leaned down to look at him. "You can stop at Merlotte's and get bottled blood if you really need some."

He could see that she didn't want to let him inside because she didn't trust herself with him. Though he was disappointed, the thought pleased him. He smiled a little. "You're hard-hearted."

"I am," she replied, returning his smile. "You be careful, you hear?"

"Of course. And I'm not stopping for any policemen." He winked at her as she shut the car door, and he watched as she made her way into the house. He stayed close by until the early hours of the morning, parked inconspicuously near the turn to her drive.

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.

Chapter Text

He had never been happier to see Pam than he was that night when he returned to Fangtasia.

Victor had kept his word, and Fangtasia hadn't been touched. No one in his area had been injured or killed. Some of them had been aching for a fight, and Clancy, especially, was sore about the surrender. However, once he had gathered them in the bar and explained the situation, their disappointment was replaced by relief and gratitude. There was some small satisfaction in the fact that Pam had made sure that several of the invaders never went home. Going back into his office and unpacking his travel bag of emergency items seemed rather anti-climactic. He had traded cell phone numbers with Victor, and now there was nothing to do but wait.

He left the bar and drove to Wal-Mart to return the unnecessary windshield wipers he had run in to buy earlier. While he was there, he visited the electronics department and purchased a new cell phone and accessories for Sookie. Her job didn't pay her enough to allow her an unexpected expense like replacing a phone. Back at Fangtasia, he called Cellular South to activate the phone on Sookie's account, and he paid for half a year's service in advance. He scrawled off a quick note to her, enclosed everything in a small box, and told one of the humans to have it shipped with the first mail pick-up.

One more item on the to-do list, he thought as he glanced at the time. He dialed Home Depot and arranged to have a new door installed at Sookie's house. The tiger had broken it, but Eric suspected that if he himself didn't replace it, no one else would.

Dawn was creeping up too quickly for him to fly home, so he slept once again at the bar. When he rose the following night, it was late. He could hear music thumping in the bar as he stumbled into the shower adjoining his office. Clean and refreshed, he pulled his wet hair back into a ponytail, stepped into some worn jeans, and went back into his office to get a Fangtasia t-shirt. Pam was waiting for him.

"I see your extra beauty sleep served you well," she said, looking him up and down with approval.

"Hmm," he grunted. "Any calls?"

"No calls, but Victor's here in person. He's waiting out in the bar. You ready to see him?"

Eric gave her a half smile as he sank into his chair. "As ready as could be expected. Show him in."

Victor wore sharp business attire, making Eric feel shabby and underdressed. With him was an unpleasant female with drawn cheeks, cold eyes, and hair pulled back so tightly it almost stretched her face up. She looked down her nose at everything around her, even when she was looking up, as she did when Eric rose to greet them. He realized too late that he was still barefoot, so he stayed behind his desk.

"Eric," Victor said cheerfully, "this is Sandy Sechrest. She'll be Felipe's right hand man – woman, rather – here in Louisiana. A regent, you might say."

Sandy didn't wait for a greeting. "Let me go ahead and tell you now, Mr. Northman, that if this had been up to me, you and your little band of allies would have died last night with the rest. I tried to persuade the king of the danger of leaving any of you alive, but he disagreed, partly thanks to Victor here." She paused to give Victor a venomous glare, but he seemed unfazed. "Your associations with Weres and humans are not something I approve of," she continued, "but in this, too, I am overruled. Just know that I'll be watching you closely. If I hear or see anything suspicious, Felipe will hear of it. Do you have any questions?"

"None." He was careful to let his expression give nothing away.

"Brief and to the point," she said with a nod. "I like that. Victor, let's go. It's time for you to get to New Orleans."

Excluding that encounter, the night passed as any other night would. Sandy didn't return until the next evening, and once again she stayed only a few minutes. Pam hated her, scowling at her each time she saw her in and out of the office. He still hadn't heard from Sookie about the new phone and door. It might have worried him if he hadn't been used to Sookie's silence when it came to gifts from him. Then again, she wouldn't have needed them if he hadn't gone to her house that night.

Only a call from Sookie could have put him in a good mood about hearing the voice of "Elvira," the latest incompetent employee, on his phone.

"Sookie Stackhouse on line two for you, Master," she simpered.

He smiled and pressed the blinking red button on his phone. "This is Eric. Is this my former lover?"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," she said, and then she launched into a matter of business. Halfway through, she paused. "Are you okay?"

The genuine concern in her voice touched him, even if it had taken her a few moments of cold detachment to summon it. "Yes. Yes, I am… coping with this. We are very, very lucky we were in a position to…" He wondered suddenly if Sandy had bugged his office or if she were spying on him in some other way. "We're very lucky," he concluded briefly.

Her soft sigh of relief was the only clue that she cared one way or the other, because she went immediately back to business. Copley Carmichael wanted to transfer his construction contracts from Sophie-Anne to the new person in charge. Eric's ignorance of the new hierarchy made him feel off-balance, but he suspected that Sandy would be the person to contact.

"Sandy, huh?" Sookie laughed when he told her.

"Yes. She is not a bit funny, Sookie."

"Okay, okay, I get it. Let me call his daughter, she'll call him, he'll call Fangtasia. It'll all get set up, and I've done my favor for him."

"This is Amelia's father?" he guessed. He knew that the witch had a powerful father, but he hadn't connected the two because of their different surnames.

"Yes. He's a jerk. But he's her dad, and I guess he knows his building stuff."

He was done with Copley Carmichael. It was time to remind her that they had unfinished business of their own. "I lay in front of your fire and talked to you about your life," he said. Even when I didn't know who I was or who you were, I cared about you.

"Uh…" She cleared her throat. "Yeah. We did that."

He grinned. "I remember our shower together."

"We did that, too," she said, clipping her words.

He closed his eyes and plumbed his new memories for some of his favorite moments. "We did so many things," he said. He could sound powerfully sexy when he wanted to. Right now he wanted to very much.

"Uh… yeah, okay." She was trying to sound nonchalant, but her voice trembled.

"In fact," he smiled, "if I didn't have so much to do here in Shreveport, I would be tempted to visit you all by myself to remind you how much you enjoyed those things."

"If memory serves, you kind of enjoyed them, too."

"Oh, yes," he purred. Ohhh, yes.

"Eric, I really need to go," she said abruptly. Shakily. "I gotta get to work."

"Goodbye," he told her, filling the word with wonderful promises he would take pleasure in keeping.

"Goodbye."

* * *

Sandy Sechrest apparently found it necessary to visit Fangtasia every night, and Pam began to find it just as necessary to make faces and decidedly unladylike gestures behind Sandy's back. More to Eric's annoyance, Sandy's visits got longer and longer each time. On the night Sam Merlotte called, she had already been with him for twenty miserable minutes. When he told her he had to leave for Bon Temps, her lips pursed up as if someone had pulled an invisible drawstring. She reminded him that Felipe's arrival in Louisiana was imminent and that the king wouldn't stand for such inefficiency. Teeth clenched, Eric stated his regrets in a measured tone as he saw her out. "Bitch," Pam mouthed across the room as she watched him walk back to his office, and he replied with a wink.

The shifter hadn't been specific about what Sookie needed; he had only assured Eric that it wasn't an emergency. Emergency or not, Sookie rarely – if ever – admitted that she needed him, so he intended to waste no time getting to her.

He wondered if it had to do with Niall; the fairy had contacted him the night before, angry that Eric had stopped Sookie from calling on the fae to help her. Eric had explained his reasoning, and Niall had seemed somewhat pacified.

Sookie was serving customers when he arrived at the bar. Almost as good as seeing her was feeling her. His blood always danced through him when she was close, and tonight was no exception. After Sandy's coldness and the anxiety of his precarious new position, Sookie's presence was a warm fire.

He nodded and smiled at her before walking back to Sam's office. Whatever she needed, he didn't intend to discuss it in the middle of the shifter's redneck patrons. Sam was bent over his desk, punching numbers into a calculator.

"I am here," Eric said. "Why did Sookie ask you to call me?"

Sam spun his chair around to face Eric. "She didn't, actually. She doesn't even know that I did it." Eric crossed his arms and prepared to express himself with some choice language, but Sam held up one hand. "One sec." He leapt up and signaled to Sookie out in the bar, then closed the door once she had joined them. "What's wrong?" he asked her.

She looked as taken aback as Eric felt. And there was definitely something wrong with her. He felt a begrudging kind of gratitude to the shifter for calling him, and he made an encouraging motion to her with his hand.

Her eyes brimmed over. "I broke Calvin Norris' hand into bits," she told them, her voice catching in her throat, "w-with a brick."

Why in hell would she do that? Granted, she had a bad temper, but she would never do something like that.

Beside Eric, Sam was nodding with sudden understanding. "Then he was… He stood up for your sister-in-law at the wedding." Eric looked back and forth between them and waited for someone to tell him what the fuck was going on. "She had to break his hand, which represents his claws in panther form," Sam explained to him. "She stood up for Jason."

Eric returned the shifter's gaze darkly, recognizing in the other man's face his own desire to wring Jason Stackhouse's neck. Then Sam's expression changed into one of expectation, and Eric frowned at him, puzzled.

Sookie turned on Sam, her cheeks flushed with anger. "I don't belong to him! Did you think Eric coming would make me all happy and carefree?"

"No, but I hoped it would help you talk about whatever was wrong," the shifter said. Eric could tell that Sam was trying to be calm and understanding, but the flash in his eyes gave him away.

He liked Sam, he realized, especially since the shifter had bothered to call him here. Unlike Bill, who seemed to be in love with the idea of loving Sookie, Sam actually loved her. It made him a rival, to be sure, but Eric had never minded a little competition.

Sookie took a slow, deep breath. "What's wrong. Okay. What's wrong is that my brother arranged for Calvin and me to check on Crystal, who's about four months pregnant, and he fixed it so we'd get there at about the same time." Her chin was trembling, but she didn't let any of the tears in her eyes escape. "And when we checked, we found Crystal in bed with Dove Beck, as Jason knew we would."

Still trying to put things together, Eric exchanged another look with Sam. "And for this," he said, turning back to Sookie, "you had to break the werepanther's fingers." Irrational, ridiculous, archaic, fucking Weres.

"Yes, Eric, that's what I had to do. I had to break my friend's fingers with a brick in front of a crowd," she told him as if he were slow.

"And I thought you'd be such a big help," Sam added.

"I have a few things going in Shreveport – including hosting the new king," he reminded them, holding back his own impatience. Neither of them seemed to give a shit that he'd placed Sookie above everything else.

"Fucking vampires," Sam mumbled.

Eric refrained – admirably, he thought – from pointing out that Sookie was upset because of asinine Were and shifter customs, not because of anything the vampires had done.

"Well," Sookie said with a fake smile and sarcastic cheer, "thanks, guys. This has been a lot of fun. Eric, big help there. I appreciate the kind words." Without waiting for a reply from either of them, she stormed out and slammed Sam's door behind her.

They stood there dumbly for a moment before Sam broke the silence. "Sorry I wasted your precious time, Eric." He flopped heavily back into his desk chair and reached for his calculator.

"I'm glad you called me here," Eric said. "She is never a waste of time."

The shifter turned and looked at him in surprise, but Eric didn't elaborate. He left the office and exited the bar through the back door. He had done a pathetic job of helping Sookie; he knew that. He had been too focused on understanding the thing that had made her upset, and he had done nothing to comfort her – which was, after all, the whole point.

Soon she would be able to leave work. He leaned against her small car, enjoying the sharp cold that quickly penetrated his clothes through the metal. Such cold was uncomfortable for humans, but for his kind, it felt invigorating, clean, and fresh. Apart from country music on the jukebox and an occasional loud laugh coming from inside the bar, he was able to enjoy quiet. "Peace and quiet" was the human phrase. Peace was something he hadn't known in many, many years, yet it was always close to him now. Sookie was probably carrying around drink orders on a tray right now, completely oblivious to the fact that she was the only peace he knew. He closed his eyes and reached for her through the blood bond; the connection to her was relaxing, and the time passed quickly.

She caught sight of him the moment she emerged from the bar. He could see each of her breaths as small puffs in the air. She was shivering, but she looked happy to see him there. A few feet away from him, she stopped and looked up at his face, waiting.

"It's been nice to be by myself for a while," he told her. It was a luxury having someone to talk to.

Sookie stuffed her hands into the pockets of her jacket and rocked forward slightly on her toes. "I guess at Fangtasia you're always surrounded." Her words, warm wisps of air, were quickly swallowed by the cold.

He nodded. "Always surrounded by people wanting things." In fact, she was the only person who asked nothing of him. The irony was that she was also the only person to whom he wouldn't mind giving anything and everything.

"But you enjoy that, right?" She smiled at him a little. "Being the big kahuna?"

Another one of her colorful expressions. He didn't know what a "kahuna" was, but he got the idea. "Yes, I like that," he admitted. "I like being the boss. I don't like being…" He paused, searching for the right word. "Overseen. Is that a word?" She nodded. "I'll be glad when Felipe de Castro and his minion, Sandy, take their departure. Victor will stay to take over New Orleans."

"What's the new king like?" she asked.

"He's handsome, ruthless, and clever."

She smiled again. "Like you."

"But more so. I'll have to keep very alert to stay ahead of him." Not to mention Sandy. And Victor.

Naturally, the king chose that moment to make himself known. "How gratifying to hear you say so," Felipe said, emerging from the shadows. He sounded more amused than angry, much to Eric's relief, and Eric greeted him with a long, low bow.

Sookie introduced herself in a nervous, over-bright voice and offered her hand before she realized it was the wrong thing to do. "Excuse me," she said, stepping back and a little closer to Eric.

"Miss Stackhouse," Felipe said. He acknowledged her with a slight nod and a smile.

"Yes, sir. I'm sorry to meet you and run, but it's really cold out here, and I need to get home." She said all of this very fast, then turned to Eric. "Goodbye, Eric." She laid one hand on his chest as she tip-toed to kiss his cheek, and he blinked with a mixture of surprise and pleasure at the affectionate gesture. "Give me a call when you have a minute… unless you need me to stay for some crazy reason?" Her eyes searched his, and he realized that she was asking him if he needed her help.

He reached for her hands and pressed them between his. She was freezing. "No, lover," he said gently. "You need to go home and get into the warmth. I'll call you when my work permits."

She nodded, gave Felipe an odd little curtsy, and got into her car.

"I am not sure what to make of that one," Felipe mused as they watched her car disappear. Eric smiled but didn't reply. "You are perhaps wondering why I came here."

"Yes," Eric said.

"I went to your club to meet with you, and I was told that you had come here. Your child told me where to find the place. The human woman… she is yours?"

"She works for us."

"I see," said Felipe slowly, studying Eric's face. Eric got the distinct impression that Felipe really did see, but the king said nothing further about Sookie. "Sandy has met with the shifter who owns this bar. He would be a valuable ally for us, so it bodes well that you know him already. You are on good terms with him?"

"Yes, I am, all things considered."

"Good, good. This is good. My reason for--"

Felipe never finished his sentence because heavy silver chains flew around his neck and brought him down. Eric's fangs descended in an instant as he saw Sigebert rush out from the trees.

"Traitor!" the former bodyguard shouted, pointing at Eric. "You will die with your new king!"

Eric growled and charged him, but he was no match for Sigebert. Moments later, he was sprawled on the ground beside Felipe. His arm was broken, and he grimaced with the pain, which was compounded when Sigebert began securing the two of them with the burning silver.

"Hey, what's going on out here? Don't make me call the…"

From the corner of his eye, Eric saw Sam Merlotte stop in his tracks at the scene in his parking lot. The shifter tried to run for it, but Sigebert was too fast for him. Once Sam was tied up and out of the way, Sigebert returned for Felipe and Eric. Now he wielded a large knife.

At some point during the cutting and kicking, Eric lost consciousness. He had been slipping in and out of awareness for a few minutes before he passed out altogether. He didn't know how much blood he had lost, but he did know that he was seeing double and that he was in tremendous pain. When he came to again, it was to the sound of screeching tires. He raised his head slightly and saw Sigebert standing above him, his filthy pants down around his ankles. He had been about to... Then Sigebert ran at the car.

Sookie's car.

Sookie, why are you here?

She had felt his suffering through the blood bond. It was the only explanation. And she had never been one to place self-preservation over helping someone who needed her… even two powerful vampires. He was furious with her for endangering herself, and he was furious at himself for being the cause of it.

Sookie hit him hard, and Sigebert rolled over the top of the car and landed on the ground behind it. Sookie backed up and rolled over him, pinning him beneath the car. Then she flung open the car door and ran towards them as the shifter yelled at her to hurry. She ran to Eric first. He watched her in wordless shock and pain as she tried to free him. Her hands were shaking too much to accomplish anything, so she ran over to cut Sam loose with the knife that Sigebert had dropped. With him helping her, she seemed to gather herself a little, and her fingers were much steadier when she returned to Eric. She freed his legs first, and he didn't complain, though the silver binding his hands had burned almost through to the bone.

He heard the creak and groan of metal and turned his head to see Sigebert lifting Sookie's car off of himself. No, he thought, enraged. They would not be overtaken a second time. He quickly pushed Sookie back, seized the knife at her feet, and flew to Sigebert. Baring his fangs, he gripped the bodyguard's hair to hold his head up.

"Go to your maker," he hissed, and he sliced cleanly through Sigebert's thick neck.

Sookie gasped and sank to the ground with one hand pressed to her heart. "Oh, wow," she exhaled. Her breaths came short and fast as she met his eyes and stared.

He dropped the knife with a clatter and walked back over to her to see if she had been hurt. To his relief, there wasn't a scratch on her; her trembling was due only to fear and cold. He groaned slightly as the broken bone in his arm began to heal itself. He had lost a lot of blood from the wounds on his head, and he could feel that his connection to Sookie was weaker than it had been.

Felipe, who had been freed and helped to his feet by the shifter, stood almost bare-chested. Sigebert's knife had cut away most of his shirt, and the cape he had been wearing was long gone.

"I am Felipe de Castro, King of Nevada," he told Sam, regal in spite of everything.

"Sam Merlotte," the shifter replied with a nod.

Felipe turned to Sookie. "Miss Stackhouse, I am in your debt."

"It's okay," she murmured. Her heart still hadn't slowed to its normal beat. Eric could hear it thumping madly.

"Thank you. If your car is too damaged to repair, I will be very glad to buy you another one."

Eric regarded the king with a new level of respect. Many a vampire king or queen would have shrugged off the human's damaged car as merely the price to be paid for the honor of saving royalty. Felipe had the capacity for gratitude, and it made him, no doubt, a good leader.

Sookie took the hand Eric offered her and rose to her feet. "Oh, thanks," she said, looking relieved. She should have known that if Felipe didn't replace her car, then Eric would. "I'll try to drive it home tonight." She glanced at it and crinkled her nose. "Do you think the body shop would believe I ran over an alligator?"

The shifter advised her to take the car to a local mechanic named Dawson, and Felipe waved his hand casually. "Do what is necessary. I will pay," he said. "Eric, would you care to explain what just happened?"

The fuck I will. "You should ask your crew to explain. Didn't they tell you Sigebert, the queen's bodyguard, was dead?" He motioned to the headless body. "Yet here he is."

"An excellent point," Felipe conceded. "So that was the legendary Sigebert. He's gone to join his brother, Wybert."

Sookie swayed on her feet, and Eric swept her up into his arms, holding her close against his chest. He couldn't warm her, but at least he could block out some of the cold in the air. She leaned her head against his shoulder and exhaled. Her breath was warm on his neck.

"How'd he get the jump on three strong guys like you all?" she asked them.

Felipe frowned and looked frustrated with himself as he told her what had happened.

"We were too involved in our discussion to be wary," Eric added. And I was too distracted by pain to block it from you. It will not happen again.

"Ironic, eh," Felipe said with a wry smile, "that we needed a human girl to rescue us!"

Eric clenched his jaw. "Yes, very amusing." It was the second time she had saved his life at great risk to her own. He tightened his arms around her and said quietly, "Why did you return, Sookie?" He doubted that she would confess her love for him then and there in front of others, but perhaps it would make her think.

"I felt your… anger at being attacked," she replied.

Oh, Sookie, that's not what I asked, he thought as Felipe raised one eyebrow and looked back and forth between them.

"A blood bond," he mused. "How interesting."

"No, not really," she said lightly, almost as if the topic bored her. "Sam, I wonder if you'd mind driving me home. I don't know where you gentlemen left your cars, or if you flew." She paused a moment. "I do wonder how Sigebert knew where to find you."

That was, indeed, the question. "We'll find out, and then heads are going to roll," Eric assured her as he set her back on her feet. He kept one hand at the small of her back in case she was still unsteady.

Once she was safely in the truck with Sam, Felipe said, "Tell me the truth this time. Is she your woman?"

"The truth?" Eric looked at the new king and shook his head. "You would have to ask her."

"Interesting," Felipe said again. "I will offer her the formal protection of my kingdom. You will deliver this news to her and explain to her what it means." Eric, though taken aback, managed to nod. Sophie-Anne had been fond of Sookie, but this was a step that even she had not taken. "And now," Felipe continued, "I will go to New Orleans and have a talk with Victor. I mean to find out how the bodyguard escaped with his life. Indeed, who is to say that your former queen did not escape as well?"

"I had thought of that. But I don't think she would have. She didn't want to live."

"I was told that her injuries were… what is the word? Extensive."

Sophie-Anne had lost Hadley. She had lost her city to Hurricane Katrina. And then she had lost Andre. "Yes," Eric said. "Her injuries were extensive."

* * *

"I've never heard of a human being placed under our formal protection," Pam remarked the next night as Eric parked in front of Merlotte's Bar. "Have you?"

"It isn't unheard of, but it's rare."

Pam examined herself in the mirror and patted her hair, then they both got out of the car. "It's ridiculous how giddy you are right now," she said.

"What?"

"You forget," she said, smiling sweetly, "that your child can feel you, too. Not just Sookie."

He had no answer for that. He tossed his keys up in the air, caught them, and put them in his pocket.

The bar was crowded, but his eyes found Sookie easily. He could see that she had felt his presence because she turned to the door just as they walked in. She motioned to the section of the bar that she was serving, and he and Pam took their seats at a small table, ignoring the stares of the other patrons. While they waited for her to return with their True Bloods, they listened to the conversations around them: anti-vampire sentiments spoken loudly and drunkenly.

"I thought I'd have a night with nothing to annoy me if I went with you to escape Sandy, and lo and behold, we walk into this," Pam muttered. "They're actually wearing Fellowship t-shirts."

Sookie arrived with the drinks, and Eric could tell that she was working hard to block out unpleasant thoughts from the other customers. She forced a smile. "Want mugs for your drinks?"

"The bottle will be fine. I may need it to smash some skulls," he said.

Her eyes widened, and she leaned closer to him to whisper. "No, no, no. Let's have peace. We've had enough war and killing."

"Yes. We can save the killing for later," Pam said with a smile that showcased her fangs.

Sookie gave Pam a look, but she couldn't hide a smile of her own. "I'm happy to see both of you, but I'm having a busy evening. Are you all just out barhopping to get new ideas for Fangtasia, or can I do something for you?"

Is it so impossible that we simply wanted to see you?

"We can do something for you," Pam suggested. She stared at the anti-vampire customers and made a big show of drinking – and enjoying – her bottle of blood.

Sookie looked exasperated. "Pam! For goodness' sake, stop making it worse," she hissed, and Pam responded with a grin so lascivious it would have made a nun blush.

Enough. "Pam," he said sternly. Once she had settled down, he thanked her and turned his attention to Sookie. "Dear one…" He had never called her that before, not out loud. "That's you, Sookie," he clarified, though she seemed unfazed. "You so impressed Felipe de Castro that he has given us permission to offer you our formal protection. This is a decision only made by the king, you understand, and it's a binding contract. You rendered him such service that he felt this was the only way to repay you."

"So… this is a big deal?" she asked.

He couldn't hold back a short laugh. "Yes, my lover, it is a very big deal." Growing serious again, he went on, "That means when you call us for help, we are obliged to come and risk our lives for yours. This is not a promise vampires make very often, since we grow more and more jealous of our lives the longer we live. You'd think it would be the other way around."

"Every now and then you'll find someone who wants to meet the sun after a long life," Pam interjected.

"Yes, every now and then. But he offers you a real honor, Sookie."

If this news affected Sookie in any real way, she gave no outward indication of it. She had been listening quietly, and now she simply nodded. "I'm real obliged to you for bringing the news, Eric, Pam," she said, looking at each of them.

Pam batted her eyelashes. "Of course, I'd hoped your beautiful roommate would come in."

"Well," Sookie said, laughing, "she's got a lot to think about tonight."

They waited for her to elaborate, but just then, one of the vampire haters shoved her aside and almost knocked her over. Eric leapt to his feet and bared his fangs, which proved quite unnecessary, as Sookie herself bashed the man over the head with her tray. Eric watched, amused, as the man stumbled back to the sound of other customers applauding Sookie. No one looked very sorry to see the trouble-makers leave.

"Well done," Pam said, and she raised her bottle to Sookie. "We're going to be good little vampires and stay in here instead of going after them." Then she winked. "For now."

"Sookie, your car has been taken care of?" Eric asked.

"Yeah, Felipe is paying for it like he said."

He nodded with satisfaction and downed the rest of his drink. While Pam took her time finishing hers, he chatted with her idly and watched Sookie serve other customers. He pulled out his wallet and unfolded a couple of bills to pay for the blood and leave Sookie a good tip. He paused at the door on his way out, caught Sookie's eye, and blew her a kiss. It would have to do for now.

Chapter Text

Many heads turned away from their slot machines when Eric entered the Shamrock Casino in Bossier City on a freezing January night. He wore a navy pinstripe suit with no tie, and the first two buttons of his crisp white shirt had been left undone. As he walked past the gamblers that surrounded him, he flashed wide smiles and occasional winks, leaving many a flustered female in his wake. He strode over to the bar area as if he owned it and gave the name of Alcide Herveaux to the greeter.

"Right this way, sir," she chirped.

In spite of his casual jeans and LSU sweatshirt, Alcide looked wound-up and anxious. Seeing Eric approach, he threw back a glass of whatever he was drinking and cocked his head at the empty seat across from him.

"Eric."

"Alcide."

"Another brandy, Mr. Herveaux?" their waitress asked, holding her small round tray up at shoulder level.

Alcide waved his hand in a gesture of refusal. "No, thank you."

"And you, sir?"

"Nothing for me." Eric winked at her. "Nothing at the moment, anyway."

The young woman's face flushed scarlet, and she gave him a bashful smile as she left them alone. Eric appraised the surroundings with one smooth sweep of his eyes. The televisions in the bar were set to sports and news channels. All they had to do was wait.

At other bars and casinos in Shreveport and the surrounding area, Eric had dispatched vampires to see that the Weres' coming-out party went safely and smoothly. Pam had stayed at Fangtasia, while Clancy had joined Bill at the bar in Bon Temps. Victor's people in New Orleans were doing the same, as were Sandy and her minions at the post in Baton Rouge. Felipe had made it clear that he wanted the transition to be as smooth as possible in the states he governed, not so much for the Weres' good as for their own. Riots or other disturbances against any supernatural creatures could just as easily turn against the vampires, and they should be avoided at all costs.

Eric looked at Alcide and smirked. "I suppose everyone here knows the name of Herveaux."

"Because of my father," the Were scowled. "Not because of me."

They had nothing to say to each other, so they didn't. And then the cat – and the wolf and the dog and the fox and everything else in the zoo – was out of the bag.

Eric was back at Fangtasia before midnight, quite pleased at the relatively uneventful reaction to the Furry Revelation. Judging by the calls he had made on his drive home, the story was by and large the same. After vampires, shifters just weren't nearly as earth-shaking. At three in the morning, Eric was able to call Felipe with not a single incident to report.

"This is very good," Felipe said when Eric had finished. "But I must say that I am much more interested in hearing about your telepath."

Eric froze for a moment, then pulled himself together. It had always been his rule to make serious things casual by pretending they were just that. "You mean Sookie?" he said lightly.

"Indeed. Victor told me about her skills." Felipe gave a soft laugh. "This does explain why a little human waitress would be working for you. Why she would… draw your attention."

"Yes," he replied. "She has proven herself useful on several occasions."

"I believe her talent is being wasted. She should not be hidden away in Louisiana and called out for special occasions. I intend to invite her to join my court in Las Vegas." By "invite," Felipe meant "order." It was the unspoken rule with kings and queens. He went on, "Victor tells me that she can read Were and shifter minds as well, at least to an extent. Now that they are out in the open and dealing with us more in the public eye, I could use Miss Stackhouse to listen to the ones who deal with me. Would this be acceptable to you?"

Casual, Eric reminded himself. Light. Don't answer directly. "It is, of course, your decision. But she has many attachments here. I don't know if she would like the idea."

"Human attachments do not concern me," Felipe said frankly. "However, if a vampire has a prior claim to her, I will not violate that."

"I do. I have a prior claim to her." Fucking hell, what are you doing?

"Yes, a blood bond. Easily undone or worn away with time. I speak of a formal attachment. A marriage." He waited in vain for a reply from Eric. "Victor will be there tomorrow night at seven to discuss my proposition with you and with the telepath. See that she is there."

"I will."

"The second matter we must discuss: Quinn the tiger requests permission to enter your territory for the purpose of speaking to Sookie. I suspect that he wants to convince her to accept my invitation. Will you give this permission?"

Eric clenched his free hand and fought for an even tone. "It will be addressed at my meeting with Victor and Sookie tomorrow evening."

"Very well, that is all. Take care, my friend."

Eric set the phone down and sat very still for a long time. Directly across the room, on the shelves to the right of his office door, lay a bundle of black velvet that held the bonding knife from the marriage ceremony in Rhodes. The knife had been in the pocket of the robe Sookie threw around him during the bombing. And it had been used to take his blood for the exchange, if not Sookie's. He crossed the room in a flash and located the thin, white binder that held his materials from the Church of the Loving Spirit's online ordination course.

Vampires married in a variety of ways, depending on religion, culture, age, and taste, among other things. He flipped through the binder, scanning each page impatiently. And finally, there it was.

Rite 7b. Vampire/Human. While 7a (see above) dictates that the human spills his/her blood for the vampire, and 7c (below) requires that both parties spill blood for each other, 7b is used to symbolize the submission of the vampire to the human, the immortal to the temporal, the drinker of blood to the living being who sustains him/her. Considered unorthodox and even taboo in some societies.

1. Use the ceremonial knife to spill the vampire's blood. The human lover drinks from the vampire. Blood exchange from human to vampire is optional. As with all rites that involve a blood exchange, most couples choose to carry out step 1 in private. This wish should always be accommodated.

2. The knife is given to the human as a symbol of the vampire's life being placed in his/her hands.

3. The human returns the knife to the vampire as a symbol of love; i.e., the human recognizes and receives the vampire's act of devotion, but does not expect the vampire's servitude or loss of free will.

4. The marriage is sacred unless and until the human requests the return of the knife, to which request the vampire must comply. The vampire cannot end the marriage.

Eric closed the binder and pushed it back onto the shelf among the other books. He took the knife, running his index finger down the shining blade. This plan would protect Sookie from Felipe, and it would cost her nothing. She would resent him for it, but that would be nothing new, he thought with a wry smile.

When he tried to call Sookie's house, the witch Octavia answered and told him that Sookie wasn't at home yet. She still hadn't come home an hour after that, and it would be too late at night to attempt to call her again. Cursing under his breath, he prepared the knife in its ceremonial trappings and left a note for Bobby Burnham to contact Sookie first thing in the morning. He wrote out detailed instructions and finished the note: "Track her down, deliver the message in person, and be polite." He underlined the last two words.

He laid one hand on the black material, tied with its gold tasseled cord, and stared at it. Now, Sookie, the vampire's life is placed in your hands.

He couldn't think of a better place to be.

* * *

"You're joking, right? You can't get married in jeans and a t-shirt."

That had been Pam's first reaction when he called her into his office, told her to show in Victor and Sookie when they arrived, and explained that he would be pledging himself to Sookie. He had expected more opposition from her; he had expected her to try to talk him out of it. But it seemed that Pam had given up when it came to him and Sookie. Her only commentary on the situation was a silent one: when she emerged in her costume for the evening, it included a black veil.

"It's a marriage, not a funeral," he told her with a short laugh.

Pam adjusted the sheer material over her face with a haughty look. "Same thing." She eyed his clothes again and shook her head. "And at least one of us is dressed for the occasion."

"I don't want Victor to suspect anything before Sookie arrives."

"Oh, he won't, believe me," she smirked.

"Make sure that Sookie has the knife wrapped up before she enters my office. Make sure she understands that she needs to handle it with care, and that she needs to give it to me with a certain amount of ceremony. If we don't pull this off, I don't know of another way to keep her out of Felipe's control."

She nodded along as she listened to his instructions, her expression growing darker. "Would she go to such lengths for you?" she asked when he finished.

"She risked her life for me and for you," he reminded her. "And this is… this is not entirely unselfish. This is something I want."

"I'm not used to being afraid for you, Master. I like Sookie, but I would always choose you over her. I don't like to see you endangering yourself for a human." Her candor took him aback. Pam rarely, if ever, admitted to having feelings deeper than a coat of nail polish.

"I refuse to give up happiness for safety. Haven't I taught you that immortality is worthless if you don't enjoy it? Carpe diem, as Appius liked to say."

He watched, pleased, as understanding lit her eyes. She grinned. "It's always been Lesson Number One."

"So you were paying attention." Behind her, he saw Victor stride into the bar. He lowered his gaze back to hers and said quietly, "Here goes nothing."

After the three of them exchanged the requisite greetings, Eric left Pam to manage the bar as he led Victor back to his office. Victor was in high spirits as he talked about the recovery progress in New Orleans. Sookie's knock came only five minutes later.

"Come in, Sookie," Eric said loudly. Every nerve ending inside him caught fire and danced when she stepped inside and shut the door. She made him absurdly happy, and he wondered if it was just her, or if he had simply forgotten over the years how forceful happiness could be.

"Hi, Eric." She smiled at him, then turned to smile at Victor, who had risen to greet her.

Eric had a moment of anxiety when he thought she had forgotten the knife, but his fears were allayed when she took it from her purse, still wrapped in the dark velvet. Holding it in both hands, she stepped forward and set the bundle on his desk.

"What has our fair-haired friend brought you, Eric?" Victor asked as Sookie sat down in the empty chair near him.

Eric was careful to keep his face impassive as he opened the bundle and raised the ceremonial knife to his lips. The marriage is sacred, he thought, recalling the instructions in the white binder. He kissed the blade – a purely personal gesture on his part – and set the knife back down. He met Victor's eyes and saw that the other vampire knew exactly what had just happened.

Victor's mouth curved up on one side. "Very interesting." Eric could see that Sookie wanted to ask what was going on, and he silently begged her not to speak yet. "Then I'll take the tiger's request off the table," Victor continued. He shrugged. "My master was unhappy about the tiger wanting to leave anyway. And, of course, I'll inform my master about your prior claim. We acknowledge your formal attachment to this one," he finished, nodding in Sookie's direction.

"What are you talking about?" Sookie asked.

To Eric's relief, Victor assumed that she was asking about Quinn. "Quinn requested a private meeting with you, but he can't come back to Eric's area without Eric's permission now," Victor explained to her. "It's one of the terms we negotiated when we… when Eric became our new associate."

She frowned. "Does this new rule apply only to Quinn, or to all wereanimals who want to come into Louisiana?" she asked, turning from Victor to Eric. "How could you boss the Weres? And when did you put that rule into effect?"

"Three weeks ago. And the new rule applies only to wereanimals who are associated with us in a business way," he told her. "The tiger got his dismissal from you. I heard it from his own lips. Why should he return?" Surely she didn't want Quinn to return? He knew how she had hated the very sight of Bill after she learned of his betrayal – and Bill hadn't aided an enemy who might kill her.

Sookie was moving her lips as if searching for words, but Victor spoke first. "Now that you and Eric are openly pledged, you certainly won't want to see Quinn, and I'll tell him so."

She turned on Eric, her eyes blazing. "We're what?"

Victor looked positively gleeful, and Eric realized his old friend knew very well that Sookie had no knowledge of what had happened. If there was one thing Victor appreciated, it was a clever maneuver. He was probably also pleased that they would get to keep Sookie in Louisiana instead of sending her off to Nevada to be Felipe's pet.

"The knife," he told her, motioning to the pile of velvet on Eric's desk. "That's its significance. It's a ritual knife handed down over the centuries and used in important ceremonies and sacrifices. It's not the only one of its kind, of course, but it's rare. Now it's only used in marriage rituals." He shot Eric a look of mild amusement. "I'm not sure how Eric came to have possession of it, but its presentation from you to Eric – and his acceptance – can only mean that you and Eric are pledged to each other."

Eric's insides churned with all the conflicting emotions coming from Sookie. Her eyes had grown wider, and her face more stricken with realization, with every word that Victor said. Now she held one hand up and said shakily, "Let's all step back and take a deep breath." She looked at him again, and he could see that she was pleading with him to tell her it wasn't true. "Eric?" she said.

He tried to send her calm and comfort, and he made his voice as gentle as possible. "This is for your protection, dear heart." I did it because I love you, Sookie. Try to understand that.

"This is so…" She paused for a second as her voice caught in her throat. "…high-handed. This is sheer gall." She glanced away for a moment to blink back tears, and then her eyes found his again. "How could you do this without talking to me about it? How could you think I would let you commit me to something without talking about it first? We—we haven't even seen each other in months."

He didn't know what "high-handed" meant, but he got the general idea. It might have placated her to know that he had committed himself to something, not her. The marriage was hers to end whenever she chose. If there was anyone who wanted to commit her to something "without talking about it first," that person was Felilpe. None of this was safe to say in front of Victor.

"I've been a little busy here," he said in a calm, measured tone. "I'd hoped your sense of self-preservation would kick in." He wasn't sure if he could send affection or love through the bond, but he tried. "Can you doubt," he added slowly, "that I want what's best for you?" Can you honestly doubt that?

"I don't doubt that you want what you think is best for me, and I don't doubt that that marches right along with what you think is good foryou," she retorted.

Good for me? You think pledging myself to a human, being blood-bonded to a human, is good for me?

"She knows you well, Eric," Victor said with a loud chortle. Eric shot him a look that promised stakes in his near future if he didn't shut the fuck up. "Oops." He raised both hands in a gesture of submission and mimed zipping his lips.

"Eric, I'm going home," Sookie said coldly. "We'll talk about this soon, but I don't know when. I'm running the bar while Sam's gone. There's trouble in his family."

"But Clancy said the announcement went well in Bon Temps."

"Yes, it did," she said, "but at Sam's own family home in Texas, it didn't go so well."

Weres. Texans. Bad enough separately, but together? Always a bad combination. "I did my best to help," he told her. "I sent at least one of my people around to every public venue. I went to watch Alcide himself shift at the Shamrock Casino."

"That went okay?"

"Yes," he said with a careless wave of his hand. "Only a few drunkards acted up. They were quelled quite easily." A flash of fangs, a growl here and there… "One woman even offered herself to Alcide in his wolf form," he added, grinning.

She wrinkled her nose in disgust. "Ew." Then she stood up and reached for her coat and purse. It was the cranberry-colored coat he had given her a year ago. He loved the color on her, especially when her cheeks were flushed as they were now.

In a flash, he leapt over his desk and folded her into his arms. If his actions had never been enough to show her that he loved her, he would simply have to be more demonstrative. He didn't care if Victor was watching. He didn't care if the whole fucking state of Nevada decided to have a look. Holding her, inhaling the warm scent of her, was like living again. Sookie didn't return his embrace, so he kept it brief.

He had to ignore every desire and impulse in his body in order to step back from her. Soon, he promised himself. Soon. "Tomorrow night?" he asked her.

"If I can get away. We have a lot to talk about." She looked none too pleased at the prospect. With a curt nod to Victor, she escaped from the office and shut the door.

"Well," said Victor, flashing a self-satisfied smile, "if I ever want to kill you, I know how to do it."

Eric walked back around to his desk chair and sat down heavily. "The same as you would any other vampire. All you need is a stake."

"Fair enough!" Victor laughed. "Fair enough."

Chapter Text

True to her word, Sookie came to him the following night. Since she had told him that the bar in Bon Temps was keeping her busy, he hadn't expected her to arrive as early as she did, and he was discussing a new employee with Clancy. His back was to the front entrance, but he felt her enter even before he saw the sour look cross Clancy's face. He turned to confirm that she was there, then told Clancy to get lost.

"Hello, Sookie," he said when she sat across from him. He ran his gaze over her down-turned mouth and unhappy eyes. "Are you here to tell me how angry you are at me about our pledging?" No, it wasn't that. She wasn't angry. "Or are you ready to have that long talk we must have sooner or later?"

"No," she said, answering both questions in one.

Like a blind man I feel you deep down inside, sang the voice on the radio.

The bar was relatively empty at this early hour, and Eric savored the peaceful quiet that settled between himself and Sookie. On one hand, he wanted to force her to have the discussion that loomed over them. On the other, he wanted to prolong the simple pleasure of her company.

You've stolen my heart, and you've captured my soul, the song in the background continued.

Eric drank the last of his True Blood and edged the empty bottle aside so he could reach across to lay his hand on hers. Something was bothering her, and the feeling intensified when he touched her. "What happened today?" he asked her.

"Some FBI agents came over to my house to question me about Rhodes. That wasn't a big deal. But then, while they were there…" She stopped and took one or two deep breaths. "While they were there, I got a call that said Crystal, my brother's wife, had been…" Again she paused, clearing her throat this time and blinking back tears. "She had been crucified, Eric." Her tears fell to the tabletop as she lowered her head. "It was just in back of the bar, near Sam's trailer. I rushed over there, and it was the most horrible, horrible thing I've ever seen. The police were thinking that Jason did it, you know, because she cheated on him. But I know he didn't do it. It looks like it was a hate crime. There was so much blood…" Another deep breath, and she raised her eyes back up to his. "I stayed until they took her down. Sam is supposed to be on his way back to take care of everything else."

If this Crystal was Jason's cheating wife, then she was the cause of Sookie having to break her friend's hand. That was all Eric needed to know about her; he had no use for her. He wanted to know more about the FBI agents, but that could wait. After giving Sookie some time to compose herself, he squeezed her hand lightly with his fingers.

"Even for you, that's a busy day, Sookie. As for Crystal, I don't think I ever met her, but she sounds worthless."

"I don't know that anyone is worthless," she said with a slight frown. "Though I have to admit… If I had to pick one person to get in a lifeboat with me, she wouldn't have made even my long list." He gave her an affectionate smile, and she returned it with a small one of her own, though it faded just as quickly as it had appeared. "But she was pregnant, that's the thing. And the baby was my brother's."

She swiped her fingers under her eyes as another silence stretched between them. I don't know that anyone is worthless, she had said, and the comment took him back centuries, to a time when people's lives could be bought with pieces of silver.

"Pregnant women were worth twice as much if they were killed in my time," he said absently, and Sookie looked at him in surprise.

"What do you mean, worth?" she sniffled.

"In war or with foreigners, we could kill whom we pleased, but in disputes between our own people, we had to pay silver when we killed one of our own. If the person killed was a woman with child, the price was double," he explained. Sookie had leaned forward a little, obviously intrigued by this glimpse into his past. Her interest pleased him.

She propped her elbow on the table and rested her chin in her free hand, her eyes clear as they moved over his face. "How old were you when you got married?" she asked. "Did you have children?"

He wondered how she knew that he had been married. Pam, perhaps. "I was counted a man at twelve; I married at sixteen. My wife's name was Aude. Aude had… we had… six children."

Aude had been a beautiful girl of fourteen when his brother, Leif, had married her. By the time she married Eric, only four years later, she was an eighteen-year-old widow with two dead children. Centuries later, he could still remember her as one of the kindest people he'd ever known, and she'd had a musical laugh that lit up her face. He had loved her as much as a sixteen-year-old boy could love an older girl he barely knew. Every day in the warmer months, he would bring her a handful of flowers from the field, and she would kiss his cheek. She always took great pride in cleaning his armor – almost as much pride as he took in learning how to please her when they lay together at night. But lovemaking had grim consequences in those days. Aude bore him six children in seven years, and she died before she saw her twenty-sixth year.

"Did they live?" Sookie asked, calling him back to the present.

"Three lived. Two boys and a girl." He smiled as he pictured three faces that were seared into his memory as clearly as Sookie's, frozen in time as he had last seen them. Aldís, a little girl who had looked just like Aude, who had jumped into his lap every night to demand a story. Eric, who loved playing with the horses, had just lost his first tooth. Leif had looked like the uncle for whom he was named. It felt intimate to speak of them after so many years, as if sharing the memory of them were equivalent to entrusting Sookie with their lives. "Two died at birth," he continued. "And with the sixth child, Aude died, too."

She and the new baby had seemed so healthy. Aude had smiled as she held the strong, kicking infant, a girl. They hadn't decided yet what to name her, though Eric had been planning to name her for her mother. But that night, the baby died, its soft skin burning with fever. Aude, too, was dead by sunrise.

Once again, Sookie's voice brought him back from the past. "Of what?" she asked quietly.

"She and the baby caught a fever," he replied with a shrug. "I suppose it was from some sort of an infection. Then, if people got sick, they mostly died. Aude and the baby perished within hours of each other." Sookie turned up the hand he had covered so that his palm rested in hers. He smiled at her, refusing to weigh either of them down with the past's long-buried grief. "I buried them in a beautiful tomb. My wife had her best broach on her dress, and I laid the baby on her breast." The broach had been a gift from him on her twentieth birthday.

Sookie's fingers were lightly stroking his palm. "How old were you?"

"I was in my early twenties, perhaps twenty-three," he said after a moment's thought. "Aude was older. She had been my brother's wife, and when he was killed in battle, it fell to me to marry her so our families would still be bonded. But I'd always liked her, and she was willing." He didn't want Sookie to imagine Aude as a wretched woman passed miserably from one brother to another. He knew how modern people looked at the past, as if everything were necessarily archaic and cruel, as if people's feelings weren't as deep or genuine or important. "She wasn't a silly girl," he went on. "She'd lost two babies of my brother's, and she was glad to have more that lived."

"What happened to your children?"

He knew what she meant. "When I became a vampire?"

She confirmed his suspicion with a nod. "They can't have been very old," she observed.

"No, they were small," he said. "It happened not long after Aude's death."

He told her about his ill-fated visit to Sefa and her family. Sefa, a strong-willed young woman of nineteen, had been in love with another man – a slave of her father's – but she had been willing to marry Eric because that was simply how things were. A woman like Sookie, born free to make her own choices, would have difficulty comprehending that old world. She wouldn't understand how a woman could love one man and agree to marry another. Born in the age of theater and romantic love, she wouldn't understand that love, for people of his time, had come later. They didn't fall in love and marry; they married, and then they learned to love. He and Sefa had liked each other, and that was a much more promising starting point than many couples got. As it turned out, however, his life took another course.

"It was the full moon," he said slowly, continuing his story for Sookie. "I saw a man lying hurt by the side of the road. Ordinarily, I would have looked around to find those who had attacked him, but I was drunk. I went over to help him." He gave her a wry half-smile. "You can probably guess what happened after that."

Her mouth was a grim line. "He wasn't really hurt."

"No. But I was, soon after after." Pain beyond imagining. He didn't want her to try to imagine it. His had not been a gentle turning, mercifully fast or in the arms of a lover. It had been brutal. "He was very hungry," he told Sookie simply. "His name was Appius Livius Ocella." He forced a smile. "He taught me many things, and the first was not to call him Appius. He said I didn't know him well enough."

"The second thing?" she asked, looking both curious and afraid to know the answer.

He remembered having his face shoved into the snow, and he cut the memory off right there. "How to get to know him," he answered her briefly.

He could tell from her face that she took his meaning. "Oh…" was all she said.

"It was not so bad once we left the area I knew," he said. "In time, I stopped pining after my children and my home. I had never been away from my people. My father and mother were still alive." His mother had never been the same after his brother Leif had died. Eric had only been able to pray that his own disappearance didn't cause her overwhelming grief. Even a thousand years later, he could conjure the memory of her scent when he, as a child, would run to her and burrow his nose into her neck. He explained to Sookie that he knew his children would be in safe hands with his siblings. "I had to stay away," he told her. "In those days, in small villages, any stranger was instantly noticed, and if I ventured anywhere close to where I'd lived, I'd be recognized and hunted. They would know what I was, or at least know I was…" Different? A walking corpse? "…wrong."

"Where did you and Appius go?"

Sookie had never shown an interest in his life before. Casual, personal conversations with him were something she had always seemed to avoid in general. Not always, he reminded himself. He called forward the restored memories of lying with her in front of the fire, listening as she told him about her life. She had trusted him, and she had let him in, just as she was doing now.

He told her about hunting in cities, in villages, and along the roads, and he could see the horror in her face, however carefully she tried to disguise it. This is what I am, my lover. She asked him if Appius had been good to him, and for a moment he didn't know how to answer. Appius had, after all, given him the gift of immortality. Appius had taught him how to survive… not just how to survive, but to thrive.

"He taught me all he knew," Eric said slowly. "He had been in the legions, and he was a fighter as I was, so we had that in common. He liked men, of course, and that took some getting used to. I had never done that." Again, he closed himself off from the pain so she wouldn't feel it. Pity was useless and insulting even for those who deserved it, which he did not. "But when you're a new vampire, anything sexual seems exciting, so even that I enjoyed." He smiled a little. "Eventually."

"You had to comply." Her guarded way of suggesting that Appius had raped him.

"Oh, he was much stronger, though I was a bigger man than him. Taller, longer arms." Yes, Sookie. He raped me. More than once. "He had been vampire for so many centuries, he'd lost count. And, of course, he was my sire. I had to obey."

"Is that a mystical thing or a made-up rule?"

"It's both," he told her. "It's a compulsion. It's impossible to resist, even when you want to." His mind wandered to those first dark, miserable nights with Appius. "Even when you're desperate to get away."

Sookie shuddered. "I can't imagine it."

"I wouldn't want you to," he said with all sincerity. Can't you see that it's why I saved you from Andre, from Felipe? He was tired of dwelling on unhappy subjects, so he willed himself to brighten and move on. "The world has changed a great deal since I was human. The past hundred years have been especially exciting. And now the Weres are out, and all the other two-natured." He shook his head and shrugged. "Who knows? Maybe the witches or the fae will step forward next."

"That would be wonderful," she sighed, a smile playing on her lips.

He couldn't blame her for imagining an idyllic little world where she could run into her great-grandfather at the grocery store. The only family she had, after all, was her pathetic excuse for a brother. And a husband, he reminded himself.

"My lover, it will never happen," he said. Her smile faded as he explained to her why the fae were so secretive and so few in number. He refrained from telling her that he was glad of it. She knew nothing of the violence and cruelty of her great-grandfather's people, and he hoped she never would. "Your great-grandfather is one of the few survivors with royal blood. He would never condescend to treat with humans."

"He talks to me," she said defensively.

Would she ever stop fighting the fact that she was so much more than an ordinary human? Did she really not understand that Niall wouldn't give a fuck about her if she didn't belong to his family? "You share his blood. If you didn't, you would never have seen him."

"I wish he'd help Jason out, and I never thought I'd say that," she admitted. "Niall doesn't seem to like Jason at all, but Jason's going to be in a lot of trouble about Crystal's death."

Not liking Jason was something that he and Niall could agree on, Eric thought with some amusement. She was looking at him expectantly, and he realized that they were back to the topic of the dead woman.

"Sookie, if you're asking for my thoughts, I have no idea why Crystal was killed. The police and the werepanthers, they'll track whoever did it." He remembered the police visit she had mentioned at the beginning of her story. "I'm more concerned about these FBI agents," he said, frowning. "What is their goal? Do they want to take you away? Can they do that in this country?" If they could, then no vampire marriage would stop them. Fortunately, Eric had other ways.

She shook her head. "They wanted to identify Barry, then they wanted to find out what Barry and I could do and how we could do it." She shrugged. "Maybe they were supposed to ask if we'd work for them, and Crystal's death interrupted our conversation before they could say anything."

Work for them? That was another matter entirely. If the government wanted to hire Sookie, would she refuse? He searched her face and found his answer there; it couldn't have been clearer. "And you don't want to work for them. You don't want to leave."

Their hands had been joined for most of the conversation, but now she withdrew hers and wrung her hands together. "I don't want people to die because I wouldn't help them… but I'm selfish enough that I don't want to go wherever they send me, trying to find dying people." Her eyes welled, and a tear began to creep down the line of her nose. "I couldn't stand the wear and tear of seeing disaster every day. I don't want to leave home." Now the tears were streaming down her cheeks, and she wiped them away impatiently with her fingers. "I've been trying to imagine what it would be like… what they might have me do…" She looked into his eyes as she fought for control of her voice. "And it scares me to death."

"You want to own your own life." Dear one, are you so young that you still believe you can own your life entirely?

She nodded. "As much as anyone can."

"Just when I think you're very simple," he said, returning her gaze with warm affection, "you say something complex."

One side of her mouth curved up in an attempted smile. "Are you complaining?"

"No." Quite the contrary.

He was about to continue when a customer appeared at the side of their table and held out a small notepad in one thick, shaky hand. "Could you please sign this?" she asked in a rush, almost as if she had rehearsed the five words over and over in her head before she spoke them. He smiled and obliged her, and she left them alone after she had thanked him.

Sookie's eyes followed the young woman, and Eric watched her curiously. "What was she thinking?" he asked.

She turned back to him. She looked surprised that he had asked. "Oh, she was very nervous, and she thought you were lovely, but…" Sookie paused as she chose her words. "Not handsome in a way that was very real to her, because she would never think she would actually get to have you." Of course not, he told her silently. I am already taken. "She's very… She doesn't think much of herself," Sookie concluded.

They sat quietly for a moment, and Sookie seemed lost in thought. In the background, the voice on the radio crooned, I can see you, but I can never reach you.

"As for these agents," he said finally, "you shouldn't feel obligated to accept any job they offer you. Unlike us, the humans give you a choice, I believe." His dry smile faded when he realized that she hadn't been listening. She was "zoned out," as he had heard it said. "Sookie?" he prodded. She blinked and looked at him. "Don't talk to the FBI people alone. Call me if it's at night. Call Bobby Burnham if they come in the day."

"But he hates me! Why would I call him?"

His eyebrows shot up in surprise. "What?"

"Bobby hates me," she said with some reluctance. "He'd love it if the Feds carted me off to some underground bunker in Nevada for the rest of my life."

"He said this?"

"He didn't have to. I can tell when someone thinks I'm slime."

Slime? Slime? Eric ground his teeth. "I'll have a talk with Bobby," he assured her.

"Eric, it's not against the law for someone to dislike me."

She smiled at him – a genuine smile – and he laughed. "Maybe I'll make it against the law," he said, winking at her before he became serious again. "If you can't reach Bobby – and I am absolutely sure he will help you – you should call Mr. Cataliades, though he's down in New Orleans." The lawyer would be better than nothing. Perhaps even preferable, since he knew the machinations of human dealings.

Sookie asked about Cataliades, Diantha, and even Sophie-Anne's lawyer at the trial, and Eric answered her questions, rather surprised that no one had told her already. It had been months since the bombing, after all.

"I guess it takes a lawyer to get your money when the hirer is dead," she said somewhat bitterly when he'd told her about Glassport's whereabouts. "I never got mine. Maybe Sophie-Anne thought Glassport did more for her, or he had the wits to ask even though she'd lost her legs."

He frowned. "I didn't know you weren't paid," he said. He had even reminded the queen about Sookie's payment just before the takeover, after Sookie had mentioned it on the phone. It was possible that Sophie-Anne had simply never gotten to it in time. "I'll talk to Victor," he promised. "If Glassport collected for his services to Sophie, you certainly should. Sophie left a large estate and no children. Victor's king owes you a debt. He'll listen."

She sighed, and her shoulders sagged as if they were resting from a heavy weight being lifted. "That would be great."

Had she been in financial difficulty? It frustrated him to no end that she wouldn't share her problems with him… that she never asked him for help when she needed it. "You know, if you need money, you have only to ask. I will not have you going without anything you need," he said. "And I know you enough to be sure you wouldn't ask for money for something frivolous." How he would love to give her something frivolous. A necklace, perhaps, to set off her long, lovely throat. A new car. Half of Shreveport.

"I appreciate the thought. I just want what's due me," she said tersely.

By now there was a large crowd in the bar, and the two of them lapsed into silence as they observed the people around them. Eric sensed that she had said all she came to say. That always meant that she would be leaving… or hanging up the phone, as the case may be. Unless, as their earlier conversation seemed to suggest, she had come for more than just the usual business.

"Tell me the truth," he said eventually, pausing as she turned her attention back to him. Her eyes were perfectly clear, and she was feeling peaceful. "Is it possible you came here simply to spend time with me?" he asked. "You haven't yet told me how angry you are with me that I tricked you over the knife." He paused and gave her a chance to do just that, but she was waiting for him to continue. "Apparently, you're not going to… at least, not tonight. I haven't yet discussed with you all my memories of the time we spent together when you were hiding me at your house." At this, a blush crept up into her cheeks, and she glanced away. He waited until her eyes met his again. "Do you know why I ended up so close to your home, running down that road in the freezing cold?"

"No," she said. "I don't."

It was time to tell her everything. He should have done it long ago. There were times when he had wanted to – the drive back from meeting Niall, for instance. Tonight he wouldn't let anything get in the way.

"The curse contained within the witch," he said slowly, "the curse that activated when Chow killed her… It was that I would be close to my heart's desire without ever realizing it." My heart's desire, Sookie. You. "A terrible curse, and one that Hallow must have constructed with great subtlety. We found it dog-eared in her spell book." He was talking too much, he realized, and he stopped, waiting for her to say something.

Sookie seemed lost for words for a moment, but at last she said, "I think I just wanted some company. No soul-shaking revelations."

He was so blind-sided by his first thought – that she was telling him she didn't want to hear what he was saying – it took him a second to realize that she was answering his question about why she had come. He forced a smile. Wanting his company was better than coming for business, at least. "This is good," he said. Not good enough, but good.

"You know we're not really married, right? I know vamps and humans can get married now, but that wasn't a ceremony I recognize. Nor does the State of Louisiana."

Did she have any idea how cold, how brutal she could be? She called him ruthless without ever seeming to realize that she had her own ways of wounding. He had just told her that he loved her, and her only response was to reject "soul-shaking revelations" and declare that she didn't "recognize" their marriage.

"I know that if I hadn't done it, you'd be sitting in a little room in Nevada right now, listening to Felipe de Castro while he does business with humans," he said, making every effort to keep his voice level.

"But I saved him! I saved his life, and he promised I had his friendship… which means his protection, I thought."

"He wants to protect you right by his side now that he knows what you can do," Eric explained grimly. She didn't seem to understand that protection did not preclude using. With vampires, in fact, they were often one and the same. "He wants the leverage having you would give him over me."

"Some gratitude," she muttered. "I should have let Sigebert kill him." She shut her eyes, and he could feel her frustration. Or was that his own? "Damn it," she said in a tired voice. "I just can't come out ahead."

"He can't have you now," Eric reminded her with somewhat fiercer conviction that he intended. "We are wed."

"But, Eric…" She looked down and shook her head. "What if I meet someone else? What if you…" It gave him a bit of much-needed reassurance that she couldn't seem to bring herself to finish that sentence. "Hey, what are the ground rules of being officially married? Just tell me," she said, folding her arms on the table.

Rules? Only that he belonged to her, and that she could end it at any time she wished. Best not to explain all that just yet. "You're too upset and tired tonight for a rational conversation," he hedged. "Understand that he can't touch you now – that no one can unless they petition me first. This is under penalty of final death." He smiled. "And this is where my ruthlessness will be of service to both of us."

"Okay, you're right," she said, evidently resigned. Then her eyes flashed as she narrowed them at him. "But this isn't the end of the subject. I want to know everything about our new situation, and I want to know I can get out of this if I can't stand it."

Ruthless, indeed.

"You will know everything when you want to know."

She seemed satisfied if her nod was any indication. "Hey," she said suddenly, "does the new king know about my great-grandfather?"

"I can't predict Felipe's reaction if he finds out, my lover," he told her with perfect frankness. "Bill and I are the only ones who have that knowledge now. It has to stay that way."

He reclaimed her hand in an effort to reassure her. Even if she wasn't ready to admit that she loved him, she couldn't have any doubts that he would do everything in his power to protect her. Her face was relaxed when she told him she had to leave a few minutes later. He let go of her hand and leaned across the narrow table to kiss her. Pam shot him an indulgent smile as he followed Sookie to the door, and he returned it with a wink.

"Eric," Sookie said, turning to face him before she walked out, "when I'm back to being myself, I'm going to nail your ass for putting me in this position of being pledged to you."

He grinned at her, unable to help himself. Sookie would always be difficult, but he had never met a more delightful challenge. "Darling," he told her in his most honey-dripped tone, "you can nail my ass anytime."

"You two," he heard Pam say as he walked away, and he could imagine that her eyes were rolled to the ceiling.

He gathered his papers from the table and started for his office, but his eyes landed on the girl who had wanted his autograph. What the hell, he thought. Silence fell over her group as he approached and leaned close. "I couldn't say anything while I was with the other woman," he said, speaking in a husky growl, "but you look delectable this evening." He extended his fangs and tried not to laugh at the gasps around the table. "Take care," he purred at her.

He was still in high spirits when he reached his office, and he rummaged through his desk until he found what he was looking for: a leftover photo from the calendar shoot. It was risqué. Cheesy. Perfect. With a wide grin, he opened a blank card and thought for a few minutes. He almost wrote, "Let me know when you're ready to nail my ass," but he settled instead on, "I wait for the night you join me." He tucked the card and photo into an envelope, sealed it, and left it for Bobby to deliver to Sookie.

The message he left for Bobby himself was much more strongly worded.

Chapter Text

"What the fuck just happened here?" Eric snarled, looking from Bill to Quinn.

Bill was scratched and bleeding, and the tiger was wincing as he felt his ribs. Eric could tell that the latter's jaw was broken as well. At their feet lay Sookie's crumpled body. Apart from being unconscious, she looked unharmed. The blood on her clothing clearly wasn't hers, much to his relief.

He smelled fairies, too - several of them.

One thing at a time.

Not an hour ago, he'd received the call that Quinn was in the area illegally. Knowing why Quinn had come, he phoned Bill and told him to get his ass to Sookie's house. He had intended for Bill to guard Sookie until he himself could get there, but that plan had obviously gone awry.

"It's my fault," the shifter said through gritted teeth; he was trying not to move his jaw. "We fought."

Quinn stopped talking, and Bill took up the explanation. "She was knocked out accidentally. Just a second before you arrived, in fact. We were about to carry her inside and see to her when you landed."

Eric looked back and forth between them, more furious at Bill than at Quinn. The tiger hadn't come to start a fight, after all. It was Bill who had done that.

"I'll take care of her," he told Quinn. "You need to leave."

"Yes." Quinn nodded slowly. "Yes, I'll go. Tell her I'm sorry."

"You too, Bill," Eric said.

"I'm not leaving her like this. Let me take her to her room," Bill protested, making a move to do just that.

"I said leave."

Bill froze and looked up. The younger vampire was no fool, and he knew when to shut his mouth and obey. That time was now.

When both of them had gone, Eric knelt beside Sookie and pressed his fingertips to her wrist. Her pulse was strong and steady. Had this been any other circumstance, he might have assumed that she was sleeping peacefully. He slid his arms under her neck and the backs of her knees and lifted her up against his chest.

Her bedroom was dark and quiet. He laid her down on her bed and stepped into her bathroom to flip on the light. First of all, her clothes had to go. They reeked of the blood of Bill and Quinn, and they would dirty her sheets if she rolled over. With care, he removed the garments, leaving her clad only in her bra and panties. One or two spots of blood had seeped through her shirt onto her bra, but not enough to warrant removing it as well. He knew she wouldn't want him to do that.

Her face was very, very pale, and it struck him suddenly that she might have injured her head. Humans could look unharmed in every respect, yet still have serious injuries to their brains. He raised his wrist to his mouth, sank his teeth into his flesh, and held the bleeding wound over her parted lips until his skin healed itself. The sun-kissed tan and blushing pink hues of her face began to bloom, and he nodded, satisfied.

He went into her bathroom and pulled a washcloth from a small metal ring on the wall. He ran it under cold water in the sink until it was soaked through, then returned to sit on the edge of the bed. The first few drops of water on her face didn't rouse her, so he squeezed the cloth a little harder. A sharp gasp, followed by coughing, marked her return to consciousness.

"Too much?" he said, moving the cloth away from her face.

She grimaced and opened her eyes slowly, and he waited while they focused on him. She gave one last, short cough. "Enough," she mumbled.

He left her side to carry the wet rag back to the bathroom, returning to her with a dry towel he'd pulled from under the sink. With careful movements, he dried her face and the slope of her neck. A few drops of water had pooled in the sweet hollow of her collarbone, and these he swiped away with regret, forbidding himself from taking them with his tongue.

She folded her hands over her chest and shivered. Goosebumps had risen all over her skin. Her nipples had peaked under the smooth, white satin of her bra. "Cold," she whispered, her voice so soft it was almost inaudible. "Where are my clothes?"

"Stained," he told her as he reached for the blanket that was folded at the foot of her bed. He shook it out and spread it over her.

The moment called for a decision, and he made it. Before he could change his mind, he divested himself of his shoes and slipped into the bed beside her. He rubbed his palm in slow, soothing circles over her bare stomach as he looked down at her. Her body was calling to him, and he wanted to answer "yes, yes, yes" to every question it asked. She was looking up at him, watching him with clear eyes, waiting for him to speak first.

"Do you love him?" he asked her. The goosebumps on her stomach had faded away under his touch, and now he felt only warm skin.

She ignored his question. "Are they alive?"

"Quinn drove away with a few broken ribs and a broken jaw. Bill will heal tonight – if he hasn't already."

"I guess you had something to do with Bill being here?"

"I knew when Quinn disobeyed our ruling. He was sighted within half an hour of crossing into my area, and Bill was the closest vampire to send to your house," he explained. "His task was to make sure you weren't being harassed while I made my way here. He took his role a little too seriously." Sookie's mouth curved into a grim smile. "I'm sorry you were hurt," he finished, careful to rein in his anger at Bill and Quinn.

"So they stopped fighting when I hit the ground, I hope," she said with a trace of amusement that he could not share.

"Yes. The collision ended the… scuffle."

"And Quinn left on his own?" Her expression gave no hint as to how she felt about this.

"Yes, he did. I told him I would take care of you. He knew he'd crossed too many lines by coming to see you, since I'd told him not to enter my area." He wanted to make sure she understood, if she didn't already, that Quinn had been in the wrong. "Bill was less accepting, but I made him return to his house," he added.

She lay still and quiet for a few seconds. "Did you give me some of your blood?" she said at last.

He answered her with a nod. "You had been knocked unconscious, and I know that is serious." He moved his hand up to the side of her face and smoothed her hair back. "I wanted you to feel well. It was my fault."

"Mr. High-handed," she sighed.

There was that expression again. She had used it when he married her to save her from Felipe. It seemed to apply to situations where he took care of her without her knowledge. "Explain," he said, his curiosity getting the better of him. "I don't know this term."

She smiled a little. "It means someone who thinks he knows what's best for everyone. He makes decisions for them without asking them."

A sheriff, then. A protector. He accepted the label with no qualms. "Then I am high-handed. I'm also very…"

He hadn't intended to make love to her until he found out, once and for all, her feelings for Quinn. But her nonchalance at the tiger's departure answered his question well enough for the moment. He had waited long enough; he had wasted too much time already. He gave her a slow kiss, a question that she answered by opening her mouth under his. After a time, he broke off the kiss, looked down at her, and waited.

"Horny?" she said.

Close enough. "Exactly." He leaned to capture her mouth again, talking to her between kisses as she used the pauses to breathe. "I've worked with my new masters… I've shored up my authority… I can have my own life now." He could see himself in her eyes, and the passion on his own face took him aback. "It's time I claimed what is mine."

Sookie made a happy, satisfied noise as his lips found hers again, and he made some happy, satisfied sounds of his own when she returned his kisses with more certainty. She slid one hand down his back while the other grasped his shirt at the shoulder to pull him closer. He couldn't commit his hands to one place. Like a greedy child in a candy store, he wanted to touch all of her; he wanted to taste every treat. So many delicious things to lick, to suck, to savor as they melted on his tongue. For now, he was content with the endless banquet of her mouth.

"Do you really remember?" she said eventually, stopping for breath. Her eyes were both frightened and hopeful. "Do you really remember staying with me before?" She combed her fingers through his hair and kept them there, as if she thought he might disappear again if she didn't hold him there with her. "Do you remember what it felt like?" she whispered.

He slid one hand up from the small of her back to the clasp of her bra and made quick work of the three tiny hooks. "Oh, yes, I remember." He slid her bra off her arms and tossed it aside. Memory was nothing, nothing to reality. "How could I forget these?" he asked, smiling at her wickedly before he bent to take one nipple, then the other, in his mouth. Sookie whimpered and arched up to him with an "oh" or a "yes" or a "please" to match every swirl of his tongue, every nip of his teeth.

When one of her hands wandered to his jeans and touched him through the denim, he growled with happy impatience and sat up to rid himself of everything that stood in the way of her skin and his. He slid back over her as she raised her knees to cradle his hips. He was ravenous for her, and he kissed her with all the passion and frustration that had been building over the year. She had been in the sun; he could taste it.

He had imagined them making love again – he had imagined it often and in great detail – but it hadn't been like this. It had been slow, deliberate… an unhurried savoring. This was nothing but all of you now now now. This was the desperate, sloppy, undignified gulping of a dying man who had managed to drag himself to a desert oasis. No polite sipping. He would drink her in. He would bathe in her. He reached between them to see if she was ready for him. She most definitely was.

"Eric..." she breathed, her voice a little ragged. "Now." It was a demand more than a plea, and he was happy to comply.

"Oh, yes." He pushed into her as deeply as he could while he bent to kiss her, his lips barely touching hers. "This is best… this is best," he whispered, imagining that she could taste the words rather than hear them. "This is right." She moaned when he started to move, and he stopped, remembering their first night together, how she hadn't been quite ready. "Not hurting?" he murmured, stroking her hair.

She shook her head, her eyes on his. "Not hardly."

"I am too big for some," he admitted. He wouldn't mind stopping for now and readying her further, just as they had done a year ago. He inhaled the scent of her pleasure. No, he wouldn't mind at all.

"Bring it on," Sookie said, smiling up at him as she hooked her legs around him. He had never been one to back down from "bringing it." He smiled back at her and thrust forward. "Oh, my God," she said, her fingernails buried in his upper arms. "Yes!" she cried. "Again!"

"Min enda älskade…" he said quietly. He kissed the spot just below her ear. "Du är den enda jag någonsin älskat."

His body took over from there, and he lost himself in the flood of touch, sight, sound, and taste. Knowing that their bond would make sex better was vastly different from experiencing it. Every detail was so stark and overpowering that he could only focus on one thing at a time, devoting a precious split-second to each. A bead of sweat at her hairline, a gasp, the crescent-shaped pressure of each of her nails in his back… it was all too much. He sank his fangs into her shoulder, releasing both of them at the same time. Neither of them made a sound, apart from Sookie's heavy breathing.

He lay on top of her, his nose and mouth tucked into the curve of her neck. Her pulse pounded so fast and hard, he wondered that her heart didn't burst out of her. As her breathing returned to normal, the steady rise and fall of her chest beneath him was as comforting a rhythm as anything he knew. Two red wounds marked the spot where he'd bitten her, and he turned his head to lick away the dried blood. Her fingertips were feather-light on his back as she traced up and down his spine.

"Will this change the blood bond?" she asked.

He kissed her shoulder. Her resentment of the bond disappointed him, and he didn't want to ruin this moment by saying outright that yes, the bond grew stronger each time they shared blood. Perhaps she didn't yet appreciate all the advantages.

"Felipe wanted you," he said. "The stronger our bond, the less chance there is he can maneuver you away."

"I can't do that."

"You won't need to," he assured her. He pressed his lips to the pulse in her neck. "We are pledged with the knife. We are bonded. He can't take you from me." Nothing can take you from me. He slid his hand to her breast and circled the nipple with his thumb as she sighed and wove her fingers through his hair. He propped himself on his elbow and kissed her, holding her bottom lip between his teeth for a moment before he let it go. "Bite me," he said, staring down at her face.

Her heart quickened, and her eyes searched his. "Why? You said you already gave me some."

"Because it makes me feel good. Just… for that." Now he rested on both of his forearms, and his tongue explored the shell of her ear.

"You can't be…" Her words trailed off as her hand wandered down to find him ready for her again. She guided him in and rewarded him with a soft moan of pleasure, and he smiled.

He kissed her, slowly and unhurried. Last time had been too fast. This time he would enjoy her as he had wanted. This time he would watch her. "Would you like to be on top?" he asked between kisses.

Judging by the catch in her breath and the sparks in her eyes, she liked that idea very much. "We could do that for a while…"

He smiled again and rolled onto his back, pulling her along with him. He kept his eyes fixed on hers. She must have remembered that he loved that, because she did the same, her gaze never wavering as she began to move. His own words from a year ago came back to him. If I had known you would be this gorgeous with your clothes off, I would have tried to do this sooner. Occasionally, she would draw her lower lip between her teeth, as if she were focusing very intently on having her pleasure and sharing it with him, and it was sexy as hell. He wasn't content to have his hands on her, and he raised himself to kiss and lick the path that his fingers had marked. Sookie had begun to increase her speed, and he rested his hands on her hips to slow her.

"Slow," he whispered.

She did as he asked, and he returned the favor by sliding his hand between them and working her with his thumb. He lay back down and watched her move over him, her speed building again. She seemed to have forgotten him and everything else in the world as she sought her release, and for him it was the same: there was nothing but Sookie. But she hadn't forgotten him. She surprised him by raising his wrist to her mouth and biting down hard. When he felt the pull of her mouth as she drank his blood, he came undone with a shout. She followed right behind him and fell onto his chest. A few strands of her hair were stuck to his lips, but he couldn't have cared less. She was licking his wrist, probably to clean away the blood. The shallow wounds made by her teeth would have already healed.

"Perfect," he murmured. That was perfect. You are perfect. "Perfect," he repeated some moments later.

Sookie shifted over slightly so that she lay on her side. His arm was still wrapped around her, and the weight of her body rested against his. He stroked her upper arm lightly with his fingernails, listening to the peaceful quiet.

Chapter Text

He was beginning to think that she had fallen asleep until she spoke at last. "Can I tell you what happened today?"

It never failed to please him when she wanted to talk to him, to confide in him, to share things with him. He smoothed her hair back with his free hand. "Of course, my lover. I'm all ears… for the moment, at least." He already wanted her again, but he laughed it away. That could wait.

"Andy Bellefleur came by this morning with Lattesta, the officer who's investigating Crystal's murder," she said, tracing idle circles on his chest as she spoke. "They wanted to question me some more about that. Then Diantha turned up a little later, while I was out sunbathing."

He ran his fingertips down the dip of her waist and over the curve of her hip. "I thought I tasted the sun on your skin. Go on."

"Mr. Cataliades had sent her to warn me about fairies -- some of Niall's enemies -- wanting to hurt me. After she left, I called my cousin Claude and arranged to meet him and Claudine in Monroe so they could explain things to me."

"Breakfast with humans, sunbathing with a demon, lunch with fairies, an encounter with a tiger, and sex with a vampire." With a smile, he leaned to kiss her briefly. "And I sense that it only gets more interesting."

"Interesting in a bad way," she replied with a grim turn of her mouth. "There's another fairy prince named Breandan. Have you heard of him?"

"Yes, but very little."

"He's Niall's nephew, and he's out to get all humans that have fairy blood. He thinks we're impure or something. Then there's another guy named Dermot, and apparently he looks just like my brother. He's teamed up with Breandan. To make a long story short, I've got some mean fairies after me."

He lay quiet for some time, mulling this over. He had smelled more than the familiar scents of Claude and Claudine. "I smelled fairies around the house, but in my overwhelming anger at seeing your tiger-striped suitor, I put the thought aside. Who came here?"

"Well, this bad fairy named Murry," she said, adding hurriedly, "but don't worry, I killed him."

In spite of the circumstances, Eric smiled. "How did you do that, my lover?"

"I was gardening, and he came up behind me. I guess he didn't realize that I was using an iron trowel. I ran in the house and called Niall, and he turned up quick as a flash with Dillon, Claude and Claudine's dad." Eric sat up, watching her intently as she continued. "Turns out the guy I killed was a close friend of Breandan. I thought they would bury him, but his body just turned to ash."

"Did they take his ashes?"

"Yeah, but they didn't say why. Not to bury them, that's for sure."

He frowned. Fairies could smell the ashes of their kindred from very far away. "You're sure there are no traces of it? Did they make sure? The body is gone?"

"Yes, Eric, it is."

The time had come to offer his home to her. He had weighed the consequences in the past, considered the dangerous probability that she could be followed there during the day by those who wished him harm. The fairies could do more than follow her; they could track her. But there was no safer place for her, and that, in the end, decided it. He had no more doubts.

"It might be a good idea for you to stay in Shreveport," he said slowly, carefully. "You could even stay in my house." It could be your house, too.

She shivered and pulled the blanket up under her shoulders. If she understood the gravity of what he was offering her, she gave no sign of it. "I really appreciate that, but it would be awful hard for me to commute from Shreveport back here to work."

"You would be much safer if you left your job until this problem with the fairies is resolved," he pressed. And that would be one step closer to quitting it altogether. She wasn't meant to be a waitress in a backwoods bar run by a shifter, however honorable that shifter might be. She was meant for better things, all of which he intended to provide. This danger with the fairies might be a gift in disguise, steering her away from the old life and into the new one.

"No, thanks. Nice of you to offer. But it would be really inconvenient for you, I bet, and I know it would be for me."

No, thanks? No, thanks? Nice of you to offer?

He absorbed the insult and measured his voice. "Pam is the only other person I've invited to my home."

"Only blondes permitted, huh?" she asked, smiling.

His jaw was locked so tight, he didn't know how he managed to speak. "I honor you with the invitation," he said.

"Eric, I'm clueless," she sighed. "Cards on the table, okay? I can tell you're waiting for me to give you a certain reaction, but I have no idea what it is."

Gratitude, at the very least? Something other than offhand dismissal. Some acknowledgment that she knew what she was refusing.

He remembered suddenly that "moving in together" was a big step for humans, too. Perhaps she hadn't even considered what he was saying because she was waiting for something more. But he had no idea what that could be; they were married now, for fuck's sake. He looked away from her and shook his head. "What are you after?"

"What am I after?" she repeated. After the intimacy they had shared, the frustrating distance seemed to be stretching out between them again. He lay back down beside her and searched her face, waiting for her answer. "I don't think I'm after anything," she said at last. "I was after an orgasm, and I got plenty of those." She gave him a smile which he did not return.

"You don't want to quit your job?" he asked.

It was confounding to him that any person wouldn't jump at the chance to quit working at a bar. He could shower her with anything she wanted, anything at all. If she wanted to earn money of her own – something he certainly respected – he could employ her in much better circumstances than those she worked under now. She could make better use of her talents, and she could earn more money. She could have a job worthy of her.

She blinked. "Why would I quit my job? How would I live?" Her eyes swept his face, then narrowed slowly. "Did you think that since we made whoopee and you said I was yours, I'd want to quit work and keep house for you? Eat candy all day, let you eat me all night?"

Did I think that since we made love and seemed to reach an understanding, you'd want to leave your job at the bar and live with me? Do whatever you like during the day, enjoy a life of ease and freedom, and be with me all night? A life together with the person you love… isn't that what everyone wants?

He thought of all the women, foolish and conniving women, who had tried to slither their way into his good graces, to attain exactly what Sookie had just refused in the most insulting language. For the life of him, he couldn't understand why any person would be offended or angered at his offer. Then again, not many people would think of it in the way that Sookie apparently did, imagining herself as some kind of pleasure slave in a harem. It took a good minute before he could distinguish his own anger and hurt from hers.

When he didn't reply, she explained to him that she liked to work, that it kept the voices out of her head. That she was good at it. Good at carrying a tray around and offering people beer and burgers. She seemed to place no value on herself at all.

"What are you saying?" she asked at the end of her speech.

"This is what other women have wanted from me… I was trying to offer it before you asked for it." You are the only one who would never have to ask.

She seemed to soften a little. "I'm not anyone else."

Exactly. "You're mine." Her face hardened, and he realized he'd chosen the wrong words. "You're only my lover," he explained. "Not Quinn's, not Sam's, not Bill's." He waited, but she said nothing. "Aren't you?" he asked finally.

Sookie hesitated a moment, then answered slowly, as if her words were coming to her one at a time. "I don't know if the… comfort I feel with you is the blood exchange or… a feeling I would've had naturally. I don't think I would have been so ready to have sex with you tonight if we didn't have a blood bond, because today has been one hell of a day. I can't say--" She laid the back of her hand on her forehead like a damsel in distress and continued in a high-pitched voice. "'Oh, Eric, I love you, carry me away,' because I don't know what's real and what's not. Until I'm sure, I have no intention of… changing my life drastically. Am I happy when I'm with you?" She smiled at him and cupped his cheek in her palm. "Yes, I am. Do I think making love with you is the greatest thing ever? Yes, I do." She slid her palm down his neck, across his shoulder, and down his arm. "Do I want to do it again?" she continued, her smile widening. "You bet… though not right now since I'm sleepy. But soon. And often. Am I having sex with anyone else? No." She threaded her fingers through his. "And I won't… unless I decide the bond is all we have."

How could she possibly think that the bond was all they had? Every reply that came to mind was angry or pathetic or both. It was a small comfort, at least, that she thought being with him was the "greatest thing ever." A small comfort. He refused to allow her to push him away; he refused to allow her to toss her feelings aside because she blamed them on the blood bond.

"Do you regret Quinn?" he asked. He knew if there was any competition for him, the tiger was it.

"Yes, because we had the beginning of something good going, and I may have made a huge mistake sending him away." She squeezed his fingers in hers. "But I've never been seriously involved with two men at the same time, and I'm not starting now. Right now, that man is you."

"You love me." Admit it to yourself, dear one. Admit it to me.

"I… appreciate you. I have big lust for you. I enjoy your company."

Bullshit. "There's a difference."

"Yes," she sighed, "there is. But you don't see me bugging you to spell out how you feel about me, right?" Her lips curved into a half-hearted attempt at a smile. "Because I'm pretty damn sure I wouldn't like the answer." She laid one forefinger over his lips for a moment. "So maybe you better rein it in a little yourself."

"You don't want to know how I feel about you?" he asked, wounded. He had never known Sookie to be a coward, but it seemed he had found what she was afraid of: allowing herself to believe that he loved her. Why? "I can't believe you're a human woman. Women always want to know how you feel about them."

"And I'll bet they're sorry when you tell them, huh?"

They? Yes. You? No. "If I tell them the truth," he said.

She shook her head. "That's supposed to put me in a confiding mood?"

She really needed to learn how to separate herself from them. He leaned in closer to her, holding her eyes with his. "I always tell you the truth. I may not tell you everything I know, but what I tell you… it's true."

"Why?"

"The blood exchange has worked both ways," he explained. "I've had the blood of many women. I've had almost utter control over them. But they never drank mine. It's been decades – maybe centuries – since I gave any woman my blood." He paused for a moment, thinking. "Maybe not since I turned Pam."

"Is this the general policy among vampires you know?"

She was so deft at changing the subject, so skilled at changing an intimate conversation into a topic that seemed safe to her. He had made attempt after attempt to confide in her, and she had swatted each one away like a troublesome, inconsequential fly. He considered forcing her back to the topic at hand, then decided it would be pointless.

"For the most part," he said in answer to her question. "There are some vampires who like to take control over a human. Make that human their Renfield."

Her eyes widened with interest. "That's from Dracula, right?"

"Yes, Dracula's human servant, a degraded creature. Why someone of Dracula's eminence would want so debased a man as that…" He trailed off and shook his head. "But it does happen. The best of us look askance at a vampire who makes servant after servant." Rumors had circulated years ago about Peter Threadgill making a Renfield for himself, but that hadn't affected opinions much. Most of his peers already considered him a conniving bastard. "The human is lost when the vampire assumes too much control," Eric went on. "When the human goes completely under, he isn't worth turning. He isn't worth anything at all. Sooner or later, he has to be killed."

Sookie stiffened beside him, her face twisted with disgust. "Killed!" she exclaimed. "Why?"

"If the vampire who's assumed so much control abandons the Renfield, or if the vampire himself is killed…" He shrugged. "The Renfield's life is not worth living after that."

"They have to be put down." She was looking at him as if he were to blame for all the reprehensible acts of his kind.

He turned away from her. "Yes."

"But that's not going to happen to me," she said. She raised her hand to turn his face back to hers. "And you won't ever turn me."

"No, I won't ever force you into subservience," he assured her. She trusted him in this, he realized, and Sookie's trust was too hard-won to betray. "And I will never turn you, since you don't want it." Yet.

"Even if I'm going to die, don't turn me. I would hate that more than anything."

In that moment, he saw in her face that she meant it – that she would always mean it. Accepting the fact and accepting the implications of it would have to come later. He brushed the backs of his fingers over the hair at her temple. "I agree to that," he said, affirming it to himself as much as to her. "No matter how much I may want to keep you."

They lay in silence for a little while, and he enjoyed the warmth of her body next to his. At last, she spoke. "You saved me from being bonded to Andre, but it cost me."

"If he'd lived, it would have cost me, too," he pointed out. "No matter how mild his reaction, Andre would have paid me back for my intervention."

She looked surprised at the idea that the bond had repercussions for him as well. "He seemed so calm about it that night."

"Andre never forgot a challenge to his will." Which is why his death had been beneficial to both of them. Convenient that he was gone… and curious that Sookie was feeling nervous and guilty right now. "Do you know how he died, Sookie?" he asked her.

"He got stuck in the chest with a big splinter of wood."

Sookie, Sookie, my bullshit meter is reading that as a false. "I don't miss Andre. I regret Sophie-Anne though. She was brave."

Her anxiety melted into relaxation. "I agree." She nestled closer to him. "By the way, how are you getting along with your new bosses?"

It was easy to get along with people if you jumped when they said to jump. "So far, so good," he said lightly. There was no reason to make her worried over nothing. "They're very forward-thinking. I like that."

"I bet the vamps you had with you before that night are extra glad they pledged loyalty to you, since they survived when so many of the other vamps in Louisiana died that night." She had pressed her lips to his skin, and he could feel her smile. Then she tilted her head back to look at his face.

He grinned back at her. "Yes, they owe me their lives, and they know it." He pulled her even closer and opened the bond to absorb the happy serenity coming from her.

"Do you think," she murmured as her fingertips feathered over his stomach and lower, "you could get me a poster of that picture you sent me?"

He laughed. "We should think of producing another calendar. It was a real earner for us." He kissed her. "If I can have a picture of you in the same pose, I'll give you a poster of me," he offered with a wink.

For a moment, she seemed to be giving it serious consideration, then she shook her head. "I don't think I could do a nude picture. They always seem to show up to bite you in the ass."

This drew another laugh from him, and it faded as he kissed his way up her neck. "You talk a lot about that," he observed. She gasped as he nipped her earlobe with his teeth. "Shall I bite you in the ass?"

"On one condition," she said breathlessly. "Everywhere you bite me, I get to bite you back."

He lifted his head to look down at her, arching an eyebrow. "That's a dangerous game to play with a vampire, my lover."

"I'm not afraid of you," she replied.

"I know." He kissed her and bit her lower lip gently.

Their eyes locked for a moment, and then she leaned in and took his lip between her teeth. "Keep going," she whispered, and he did.

Chapter Text

The pain was all-consuming, as if it were all he had ever known and all he ever would know – a thousand years of knowledge and experience condensed into this intense suffering. Worse than the physical pain was the anguish of being helpless as Sookie's screams ripped through his body, each one like a knife in his veins. No amount of struggle against Victor's silver chains did him any good. He couldn't even feel the silver eating at his flesh; Sookie's torture usurped every nerve ending in his body. At his feet pooled the blood that poured from his eyes as they wept, from his tongue as he bit it.

Victor had arrived in Shreveport the night before, bringing with him a retinue of six from New Orleans. He was "just passing through," he said, visiting all the sheriffs to ensure that the new kingdom was being established properly. Eric had been in the midst of calling local vampires and making sleeping arrangements for the group when Sookie called. She had used his cell phone number for the first time, which pleased him.

"Yes?" he had answered. Only last-minute wisdom had kept him from adding "dear one."

"Eric… The king said he owed me. I'm in real danger. I wonder what he could do about that."

"The threat involving your older kin?" he had asked Sookie carefully. He remembered glancing at Victor, who had picked up one of Pam's scattered magazines and appeared oblivious.

"Yes," Sookie had replied. "The… uh, enemy has been trying to get Amelia and Tray to introduce him to me. He doesn't seem to realize I would recognize him, or maybe he's very good at pretending. He's supposed to be on the anti-human side, but he's half human. I don't understand his behavior."

While Sookie spoke, Eric had placed his hand over the phone and hissed for Victor's attention. With a wink and a leer, he had indicated to Victor that this was a lovers' conversation, and he had excused himself from the office and out the bar's back door. Bubba, newly returned from one of his random excursions, had been sitting outside with a dead cat between his teeth.

Eric had grimaced and turned away. "I see," he had said to Sookie in a low tone. "So protection is necessary."

"Yes."

After a moment's consideration, he had said, "And you ask this as…?" He had already decided that if she asked it as his wife, he would go to her himself and without delay. He knew her well enough to know that she wouldn't call on him as her husband unless she had no other choice.

"I ask this as someone who saved Felipe de Castro's life," she had replied.

He had nodded. Serious, then, but not dire, he had thought. How foolish that seemed now. "I'll present this petition to Victor, since he's here at the bar. I'll get back to you this night."

"Great… I appreciate that, Eric." She had hung up on her end before he could answer her, but there had been a warmth in her voice that belied the cold dismissal.

He had tossed his phone and caught it a few times, looking up at the dark sky and thinking, and then he had turned to Bubba. The remains of the unfortunate feline had vanished. "Bubba, how would you like the job of keeping watch over Sookie for me?"

Bubba had grinned broadly. "That would suit me just fine, Mr. Eric. Miss Sookie and me are real good friends."

"Excellent. Come inside with me, then," he had said, motioning for Bubba to join him.

Victor had been just where Eric had left him – thumbing through Glamour. "Arranging a clandestine tryst with your ravishing Sookie, I assume?" he had asked, throwing the magazine aside.

Eric had forced a convincing laugh. "Not tonight," he had said lightly. "Sookie's got some family troubles she needs to sort out. I think I'll send Bubba to make sure nothing unfortunate happens."

Protection coming, he had texted to her cell phone after sending Bubba on his way. It hadn't been enough.

Eric turned the key in the ignition of his Corvette and was about to shift into reverse when Victor tapped two knuckles on the window. Swallowing an impatient growl, he lowered the window. "You need me?" he asked.

Victor flashed his white teeth in a broad smile. "I do, in fact. Care to join me inside?" He cocked his head in the direction of the bar. "I won't keep you long from your Southern belle."

As much as the delay irritated him, Eric couldn't refuse. He rolled up the window, turned off the car, and followed Victor inside. "I thought you were leaving tonight," he observed as they chose a booth near the back. He signaled a waitress for two bottles of blood.

"You seem quite eager to rid yourself of me, old friend," Victor laughed with a hardness that Eric did not like.

"Not at all. What can I do for you?"

"You can start by telling me why you sent a vampire – even one as useless as Bubba – to interfere with your woman's human affairs last night." Still smiling as though he were discussing the weather, Victor opened his True Blood and took a swallow. "I understand that she is your pet, but surely you can't be blind to the fact that she takes up an increasing amount of your time. Time that, to be frank, you owe to us."

Eric turned his bottle in absent circles. "Tell me one thing I have neglected, and I will correct it."

"Oh, there's nothing in particular," Victor replied. He leaned back and looked bored. "But as a business owner, I know you will agree with me that there's a big difference between an adequate job and an exceptional job. In Las Vegas, we don't accept adequate work."

"I see." With a thousand years' training in self-discipline, Eric kept his tone measured, his mannerisms calm and steady. His cell phone vibrated in his pocket.

Victor leaned forward again and said quietly, "Haven't you considered, Eric, what you and I could-" He stopped when Eric pulled out his phone.

Bill's name glowed in the caller ID window. "Do you mind?" he asked Victor.

"Not at all." Victor's mouth curved into an unpleasant kind of smile. "It makes my job easier when you prove my point for me."

Shit. But he had to answer it; a call from Bill would only be about Sookie. "What," he said shortly.

Bill was just as brief, his voice urgent. "I'm at Sookie's house. They've taken her. Lochlan and Neave."

At that moment, everything else fell away. Fangtasia, Victor, Felipe, Pam. Sookie was everything, and now everything might be lost. "I felt nothing…" he said, wishing to make it untrue. No one could survive Lochlan and Neave. They were infamous. He didn't know how he could feel that the air was knocked out of him when there was no air in his body, but there was no other way to describe it.

"You wouldn't. They knocked her out cold when they took her."

"Wait there." He hung up and cast a level gaze across the table at Victor. "I must go," he said. "Sookie's life is in danger."

"So I heard. Bill Compton talks very loudly when he's in a panic, doesn't he? The inexperience of the very young." Now he looked like a snake when he smiled. "You will not go. Not when fairies are involved. Not for a human."

Eric swiped both bottles of blood off the table, barely hearing the crash as they hit the floor. Leaping to his feet, he towered over Victor and bared his fangs. "I'll kill you if you try to stop me. You know I will."

"Indeed. But you can't overpower the retinue I have waiting outside."

At the same moment Victor reached for his phone, Eric pressed the speed dial number for Niall. Two rings stretched across an eternity before the fairy prince answered.

"Eric, what-"

"Lochlan and Neave have Sookie," he interrupted. His voice had an unfamiliar quality to it; he would later realize that it was panic. "Bill is waiting at her house. I can't… they won't… Move heaven and earth, Fairy. I will track down and drain every one of your kind – including you – if she is killed. Don't make the mistake of doubting me." The words might have sounded more threatening if his voice hadn't broken halfway through.

Niall was saying something, but Eric never caught what it was. Victor's people had stormed in, and now several of them threw him against the wall, sending his phone flying. Pam ran into the bar from his office in a whirl of black silk as he sank his teeth into someone's neck. He ripped out the attacker's throat, but there were too many of them. They restrained him with thick silver chains.

"Pam!" he shouted. "Call for help!"

"Take her," Victor said calmly over the din, and two of the vampires left Eric, who was now helpless against the chains, and seized Pam. "Take her into his office and watch her. Make sure she doesn't call anyone." While they obeyed him, Victor strode up to Eric, shaking his head. "You just killed one of my servants," he said, though he didn't look at all surprised.

Eric flung his body against the chains, not caring that it was futile. "Let. Me. Go," he hissed, his words strangled with fury and pain.

"I can't allow you to take sides in a fairy war. Are you mad? I don't care if they disembowel her and rape her corpse – I will not put vampire lives at risk for your human. You are angry now, but one day you will thank me for saving your life."

"Felipe… promised her… his protection," he said through gritted teeth. The silver had burnt through to the bone in some areas, and his body was racked with the agony of it. "He promised."

"I know nothing about that."

"Victor…" His voice was little more than a whisper now. "I married her. I love her." He had been trying to hold his body straight so as not to press it further against the silver, but his strength failed, and he fell limp onto the chains.

Then Sookie, wherever she was, came to consciousness, and there was nothing but torture.

"Master?" He felt Pam's hand on his face, and he opened his eyes to look up at her. Her cheeks, usually flawless, were marred with long trails of red. He had never seen her cry. "Eric?"

"Sookie…"

"She's safe. She's alive. Dr. Ludwig is caring for her."

He lay very still, searching for her inside of himself. Yes, his blood told him, she lived. He wrapped that knowledge around himself and burrowed deeper into it like a frightened child.

"Victor?" he murmured eventually.

"Gone. Felipe is probably going to tear his shit up. I'll explain later. You should sleep now." She stroked his hair back from his forehead, and for a split-second, he saw the human woman that Pam had been.

His eyes drifted shut again. It was close to dawn.

Chapter Text

"Where is she?" he demanded, pushing past a petite nurse who had raised one hand in a half-hearted attempt to stop him. He didn't wait for an answer. The pull of Sookie's blood and the scent of fairy led him directly to her room. He caught a glimpse of Bill in one room, but he had no time or interest to spare for Bill at the moment.

Sookie's fairy cousin had obviously sensed his arrival, for she opened the door only a second before he reached it. Unable to look at Sookie's broken body just yet, he watched in silence as Claudine picked up her things. Her intoxicating scent was not lost on him, but it was impossible to enjoy when he could also smell Sookie's wounds and the medicines being used to treat her. He clenched his jaw in fury – at the fairies, at Victor, at himself above all.

The soft click of the door behind him told him that Claudine was gone, and he moved to the foot of Sookie's bed with heavy steps. When his eyes found her scratched and bruised face, he squeezed his fingernails into his palms.

"Fucking fairies," he hissed.

Sookie's lips moved, and her words might not have been audible if he hadn't been a vampire. "Dead now," she reminded him.

"Yes," he replied bitterly. "A fast death was too good for them." She acknowledged this with a small movement of her head. He gathered his resolve and said, "I'm going to look at your wounds."

Her voice was even softer now. "Okay."

He drew back the thin hospital bed linens until they lay just below Sookie's feet. The last time he had looked at these shapely, tanned legs, he had been placing kisses on them. That kind of reflection would not do at the present moment, he reminded himself. He could only see the flesh below her knees, and that alone made him wish he could tear Victor Madden limb from limb. The fairies had sunk their teeth through to the bone in many places, he judged from the areas that Dr. Ludwig had not stitched and bandaged. He stared for some time, keeping his face as expressionless as possible while his blood burned with wild, blind rage.

Finally, he managed to say in a level voice, "Pull up the gown." Sookie's arms moved slightly, and he realized that he would have to do it himself. With great care, he raised the flimsy hospital gown to reveal Sookie's thighs. She had turned her head away, eyes squeezed closed. Though he wanted to do the same, he forced himself to look. He had felt her pain the night before, but to see it was something else entirely. They had slashed and ripped her to pieces.

I would hate to ruin that beautiful skin, he had said to her once. One day, I will see all of it.

His rage was melting into something dangerous, especially considering the fight ahead: anguish. That was something he could not allow, not if he expected to do battle.

He straightened her gown and said quietly, "I'll be back in a minute." As soon as her door shut behind him, he leaned back against the corridor wall and allowed the blood tears to escape his eyes.

Enough of this, he told himself after only a minute's pause. You're wasting time, and you're wasting blood. He had gulped down no less than three bottles of blood on his way over, and he didn't intend to weep any more of it away. After examining Sookie's wounds for himself, he knew that he should have drunk even more.

When he slipped into the room where he had noticed Bill earlier, he found that Clancy had arrived and was giving blood to Bill. The scent of dying Were permeated the already unpleasant hospital air that hung thick in the room.

"Silver poisoning," Clancy said.

Eric nodded; Pam had given him the short version of all this before he left, and he had spoken to Bill on the phone. "I know." He opened the mini-fridge and took out two bottles of blood. "I'm next door if you need anything."

"Eric…" Bill rasped. "I want to talk to her."

Eric didn't reply. He returned to Sookie's room and set the bottles on the floor. "Move over," he instructed. She did nothing but look up at him with a blank expression on her battered face. "Move over," he repeated urgently.

A split-second later, he silently berated himself for being so fucking stupid – of course, she couldn't move. With as much care as possible, he moved her body over enough to make room for himself. He lay down on his side next to her, propped up on his elbow.

"I'm going to feed you," he said, stroking her cheek with his finger.

"What?" she murmured.

"I'm going to give you blood. You'll take weeks to heal otherwise. We don't have that kind of time." He extended his fangs and sank them swiftly and deeply into his wrist, then held it to her mouth. "Here," he said as he supported her neck with his other arm.

Normally, giving his blood to her was one of the most sublime pleasures, but there was nothing in this to enjoy, not even the gentle pull of her lips or the occasional touch of her tongue on his skin. She drank slowly in her weakened state, and the wound healed itself before she'd taken enough. He raised his wrist to pierce it again.

"Are you sure you should do this?" she asked. Her voice already sounded stronger.

Here she lay, almost tortured to death, and she was worried about him. Even the horror of the situation couldn't smother the warmth that flared inside him. He had heard a song in the bar once with the lyric "For you I'd bleed myself dry." The humans who wrote and performed that song could not have understood those words or meant them as much as he did.

"Yes. I know how much is too much," he assured her. He stroked her hair as she resumed drinking. "And I fed well before I came here. You need to be able to move."

She paused and looked up at him, her lips stained red with his blood – a sight that would have awakened his lust at any other time. "Move?"

"Yes," he said, raising his wrist back to her mouth. "At any moment, Breandan's followers may… will find this place. They'll be tracking you by scent now." He ground his teeth together. "You smell of the fairies who hurt you, and they know now Niall loves you enough to kill his own kind for you. Hunting you down would make them very, very happy."

Sookie turned her head away from his wrist, which was healing up now anyway, and began sobbing softly against his chest.

He ran the backs of his fingers down the side of her face. "Stop that now," he said, though it was a struggle to keep his own voice level. "You must be strong. I'm very proud of you, you hear me?"

"Why?" she asked.

He bit his wrist a third time and coaxed her back to it. "You are still… together," he said. "You are still a person. Lochlan and Neave have left vampires and fairies in rags." He recalled one or two scenes that he had witnessed with his own eyes. "Literally rags." He pressed his lips to her hair. "But you survived, and your personality and soul are intact."

"I got rescued."

"You would have survived much more."

When she had finished drinking, he removed his arm from under her neck and allowed her head to rest on the pillow again. He took one of the bottles of blood he'd brought with him and poured it down his throat. He had given her a little too much blood, but she needed it more than he did.

"I wouldn't have wanted to," she said as she watched him drink. "I hardly wanted to live after…"

Her voice trailed off, and he set the empty bottle aside and turned his attention back to her, kissing her forehead. "But you did live, and they died." He traced his fingertips over the spot where he'd bitten her as they made love a few nights before. "And you are mine, and you will be mine," he said firmly, conveying protection rather than possession. "They will not get you."

"You really think they're coming?" she asked.

"Yes," he said with a grim nod. "Breandan's remaining forces will find this place sooner or later – if not Breandan himself. He has nothing to lose, and his pride to retain." He sat up and blinked away a brief wave of nausea. "I'm afraid they'll find us shortly. Ludwig has removed almost all the other patients." He cocked his head and listened for a moment. "Yes. Most of them are gone," he confirmed.

"Who else is here?"

"Bill is in the next room. He's been getting blood from Clancy."

Sookie frowned. "Were you not going to give him any?"

As if I had any left to spare, he thought wryly. "If you were irreparable, no. I would have let him rot."

"Why? He actually came to rescue me. Why get mad at him?" As her strength increased, so, it seemed, did her ready indignation. "Where wereyou?" The hurt in her voice was far worse than any anger that might have laced it. He turned away from her and closed his eyes; he could not lose any more blood, and he certainly wouldn't accomplish much by allowing her to see his tears. "It's not like you were obliged to come find me," she went on. "But I hoped the whole time…" Her voice broke. "I hoped you would come. I prayed you would come." Her fingers found his and gripped them tightly. "I thought over and over you might hear me-"

"You're killing me," he interrupted her, unable to bear any more. "You're killing me," he said again. There was a long silence as she waited for him to continue, and he fought for a semblance of control over his rioting emotions. He reached for her through the blood bond and found – apart from the fear and confusion and hurt – trust. That was a small relief, at least. "I'll explain. I will," he promised at last. "You will understand. But now we don't have enough time." His voice was steady now, and the fourth bottle of True Blood was restoring his strength. "Are you healing yet?" he asked her.

"I'm beginning to feel like I'll be better sometime." He smiled; whether she felt it or not, at least she was sounding like herself again. "Oh!" she said suddenly, "is Tray Dawson still here?"

He turned around again to meet her eyes. "Yes. He can't be moved."

Her face fell. "Why not?" she asked, and he could tell that she already knew the answer to her question. "Why didn't Dr. Ludwig take him?"

There was no point lying, even if he had wished to. "He would not survive being moved." The Were smelled of death; Eric was actually surprised that he had clung to life this long.

"No…"

He told her what he'd learned from Pam and Bill, how the fairies had captured the Were and given him vampire blood in an attempt to drive him mad. "They had fun with him before they had…" He stopped himself. "Before they caught you."

"Dawson's that hurt?" she said, looking confused. "I thought the effects of the bad vamp blood would wear off by now."

Eric shook his head. "The vampire blood they used was just a vehicle for the poison. They'd never tried it on a Were, I suppose, because it took a long time to act. And then they practiced their arts on him." He left it there, unwilling to think more about the "arts" of Neave and Lochlan. He laid a hand on her leg. "Can you rise?"

She made an attempt to lift herself up on her elbows, but she was still too weak. "Maybe not yet," she admitted.

"I'll carry you," he said.

"Where?"

"Bill wants to talk to you." Whether he liked it or not, he owed Bill his utmost gratitude for saving Sookie; the least he could do was comply with Bill's request to speak to her. Besides, there was a chance that Bill didn't have much longer. He regarded her with a sudden tenderness, realizing how much it may hurt her to see her former – her first – lover in such condition. "You have to be brave," he added gently.

She motioned to her purse, which lay on the nearby table. "My purse… I need something from it."

He handed it to her and watched as she withdrew a garden trowel and a child's plastic water gun; he could smell the lemon juice inside the toy. And here he had been coddling her, reminding her to be brave. Sookie had never been anything other than a fighter, and in that moment he loved her more fiercely, more completely, than he ever had before.

The slam of a car door just outside called him back to the urgency of the present. For all he knew, it could be the fairies or their allies. He stood and lifted Sookie into his arms as swiftly and carefully as possible, then made for Bill's room. Clancy was still giving blood to Bill, and what seemed like a month's worth of True Blood bottles lay empty around him. One never would have guessed that Bill had been given so much blood already, so pallid and sickly was the color of his skin. The Were smelled even worse than he had earlier, if such a thing were possible.

Eric carried Sookie to the open side of Bill's bed and placed her next to him. Bill turned his head slowly from Clancy's wrist and opened his eyes to see her.

Seeing Eric's questioning look, Clancy shook his head. "The silver is in his system. Its poison has traveled to every part of his body." He took a long sip of the half-full bottle in his hand. "He'll need more and more blood to drive it out."

Eric had no reply, and Clancy stood and walked away from the bed. Eric followed him, leaving Bill to tell Sookie whatever he wished.

"Will he survive?" Eric asked in a low voice.

"I doubt it. If the silver doesn't kill him, the fairies sure as hell will. Where's Pam?"

"We arranged everything before I left. She's nearby with transportation. Maxwell is with her." He tapped the long knife sheathed at his side. "You brought a weapon?"

Clancy answered with a single nod, and they stood in silence for a while.

"All this for some human," Clancy whispered after a time, gulping down the rest of the bottle. "It's a waste, Eric, and it's criminal."

Eric growled from somewhere deep in his throat. "She's not some human. She's my wife. You would be wise to keep your mouth shut." Before Clancy could reply, their eyes met suddenly; they had heard the same thing. "They're coming," Eric said loudly.

"Breandan's people?" Sookie asked from the bed. Her voice sounded much stronger and surer.

"Yes. They've found your scent," Clancy told her with accusation in his tone.

Eric unsheathed his knife and held it up. "Iron," he said. He grinned to show his fangs as the prospect of battle infused him with new and much-needed energy.

To his surprise, Bill matched his grin with a twisted one of his own. "Kill as many as you can," he said smoothly. And then, even more surprising: "Clancy, help me up."

Sookie laid her hand on Bill's arm. "No."

"Sweetheart, I have always loved you, and I will be proud to die in your service," Bill told her, moving her hand and motioning Clancy over. "When I'm gone, say a prayer for me in a real church." Eric turned to hide his smile as Clancy helped Bill to his feet. Silver poisoning had certainly not weakened Bill's penchant for melodrama. "Eric, have you a knife to spare for me?" Bill asked a minute later.

Eric removed the spare weapon he had strapped to his leg and passed it back to Bill. It wasn't a long or particularly good knife, but it was iron, and it had a blade. His phone rang, and he fished it from his pocket, glanced at the caller ID to see Niall's name, and flipped it open.

"Yes?" he said.

"Vampire, we are coming to avenge my kin. It may take longer because only one portal has remained unblocked by Breandan. Fight as well as you can without us."

Fuck.

Niall hung up without another word, and Eric followed suit, shoving the cell phone back into his pocket. "Niall and his fae are on the way," he told the others, explaining what Niall had said to him about the portals. "Whether they'll come in time, I don't know."

Clancy walked back up to him and said calmly, "If I live through this, I'll ask you to release me from my vow, Eric, and I'll seek another master." He shook his head. "I find the idea of dying in the defense of a human woman to be disgusting… no matter what her connection to you is."

"If you die," Eric said, baring his fangs, "you'll die because I, your Sheriff, ordered you into battle. The reason is not pertinent."

He could tell that Clancy was biting back some choice words – words he might have spoken aloud if they hadn't been in the mixed company of a human and a Were. "Yes, my lord," he said finally.

Eric placed his hand on Clancy's shoulder and tried to look at him as the friend he had become. "But I will release you if you should live," he said. A warrior fighting for a cause he hated was a liar to himself and a liability to his comrades. And until recently, Eric would never have dreamed of defending a human with his life. Clancy's abhorrence of such a thing was the rule, not the exception.

"Thank you, Eric," he said.

By now they could both hear and smell the fairies. Eric's battle focus was lost momentarily when he felt a wave of love coming from Sookie, and he turned to her. He had never felt that from her before, and it made his heart leap… until he realized that she was looking at Bill.

There was no time for processing this, no time for feeling anything, because an ax blade smashed through the door. Eric listened to the fairies' shouts on the other side of the door and tried to determine how many enemies they faced. Six? Seven?

The first fairy to break through the broken door was an easy kill, with Eric slicing open his belly and Clancy relieving him of his head. The heady aroma of fae blood only fueled Eric's bloodlust, and he raised his knife to kill the next. Before he could attack, the smaller knife that he had given to Bill flew through the air and pierced the fairy's neck with deadly accuracy. Raising both hands to his throat, the fairy gaped and fell sideways, his body twitching on the ground before it stilled.

Breandan was next, carrying a sword that smelled of Claudine's blood. Eric had only a second to spare for regret as Breandan came at him in a frenzy. He roared and fought back with all his strength, which wasn't as much as usual because he had lost so much blood. The fairy managed to dodge Eric's every move, and then his place was taken suddenly by a tall female wielding a mace. Eric ducked her forceful swing, which hit Clancy instead. With a shout of pain, Clancy fell to his knees, and as Eric continued to fight the female, taking a painful slash to his arm in the process, he saw from the corner of his eye that Breandan had finished Clancy.

Eric heard Breandan's voice behind him. "You're the one. The one who killed Neave."

Eric could only hope that Bill was strong enough to defend Sookie from Breandan's wrath; he himself was doing all he could to keep the female from attacking Sookie as well. To his surprise, the dying Were tried to help them, but Breandan's sword made quick work of him. And then Eric heard a ragged gasp behind him and smelled Breandan's royal blood. He gave a fanged smile to his female enemy, who screamed in fury and abandoned her fight with him to kill Sookie. But the fairy bitch was no match for Sookie's little water pistol of lemon juice. She gave a screech of pain as the acidic liquid burnt into her flesh, and Eric whirled around to slice off her sword arm and finish her off with a stab to her heart.

There was movement behind him, and he looked over his shoulder to see Niall. About fucking time. He could tell that Niall had done some fighting of his own because the fairy's bright white garments were stained with blood.

Eric turned back to Sookie just as she leaned against the wall and slid down to the floor next to Bill, who was still and silent. It was then that he realized his own weakness; the slash in his arm had bled profusely, and the edges of everything around him had become rather hazy. Sookie was bleeding from a facial injury that must have reopened during the fight, and he knelt beside her to take some of the blood he needed. Though he was surrounded by pure fairy blood free for the taking, nothing tasted as sweet as this.

"Off her, vampire," came Niall's voice, as if from very far away.

He closed his eyes and swiped his tongue over his lips to catch one last, sweet taste of Sookie before he lifted his head away from her cut, which was already healing because of his saliva. Sookie's essence, combined with the rush of victory and the overpowering scent of fairies, made him dizzy with pleasure, and he fell against the wall next to her and leaned his head back. His gaze fell on Clancy's headless body, and every trace of pleasure vanished like mist on glass.

Sookie turned to him. "Is Bill alive?"

He glanced over at Bill, who still hadn't moved or made a sound. "I don't know," he said. Thanks to Sookie's blood, his arm was starting to heal, though he still felt too weak for his own liking. He rested his head back on the wall again as Niall knelt before Sookie.

"Niall..." she murmured as the fairy looked on her with pain in his deep eyes. "Niall, I didn't think you would come in time."

Niall embraced her and stroked her hair with one hand. "You are safe now. I am the only living prince. No one can take that away from me. Almost all of my enemies are dead." He met Eric's eyes briefly, then flicked his gaze away.

Sookie rested her head on the fairy's shoulder and sighed. "Look around," she said softly. "Niall, look at all that's been taken." Her last few words caught in her throat, and Eric could see tears making their way down her cheek and dripping onto Niall's tunic.

Niall pulled back from her and touched her face with his fingertips. "You need to go home."

"Claudine?" she asked.

The fairy prince hung his head. "She's in the Summerland," he told her, confirming what Eric already knew.

Sookie buried her face in her hands and wept aloud, her shoulders shaking, and Eric wrapped one arm around her. Enough of this misery. "Fairy," he said firmly, "I leave cleaning this place to you. Your great-granddaughter is my woman. Mine and mine alone. I'll take her home."

"Not all the bodies are fae," Niall replied. Eric was about to remind him that Clancy would disappear when Niall added with a nod at the dead Were, "And what must we do with that one?"

Eric didn't give a fuck what they did with him; the Were had helped Sookie, but in the end, it mattered little what became of a dead body. The fairies were masters at disposing of the corpses they left in their wake.

"That one needs to go back into his house," Sookie insisted. "He has to be given a proper burial. He can't just vanish." She pulled away from Eric slightly and started to stand, then groaned in pain. A moment later, she said, "He's alive, Eric!" He turned his head to see her smiling up at him, her face glowing with real happiness. "Bill's alive!"

He remembered the rush of love she had felt towards Bill just before the battle, and he found he couldn't match her enthusiasm. "That's good," he said. At this moment, he wanted nothing more than to get the fuck out of here. He reached for his phone and called Pam, who answered on the first ring. "Pam…"

"Finally! I have been-"

"Pam," he interrupted her. "Sookie lives."

"Bill?"

"Yes, and Bill, too," he said. "Not Clancy. Bring the van."

Sookie had passed out, whether from exhaustion or loss of consciousness he did not know, and he lifted her up, holding her close to his chest. Niall stepped in front of him as he tried to make his way over the corpses and out of the room.

"I can see from your pallor that you're weak and hungry," the fairy said. "Don't feed on her. She's lost enough blood already."

Irritated, Eric pushed past Niall, but he stopped at the broken door and turned around. "You should know by now that I would never cause this woman harm. Don't dare insult me again by suggesting otherwise."

By the time he exited the hospital, Pam had already backed the van up to the door. He was pleased to see that they had brought a mattress to transport anyone who was injured, and he laid Sookie on it while Pam and Maxwell went inside to get Bill. He was practically staggering with his need for blood now, and he folded himself across the back seat of the van. Pam and Maxwell returned with Bill, laid him on the mattress beside Sookie, and then lifted the mattress back into the van.

The van was very quiet as Pam drove towards Bon Temps. She and Maxwell had, no doubt, seen Clancy's body – or what remained of it – and they were both somber. Eventually, though, Pam asked, "What will Niall do, Eric?"

"He didn't tell me, but I would expect him to close the last remaining portal." He finished the bottle of blood that Pam had handed back to him from a cooler between her and Maxwell. "I hope he does."

"It will be too bad if they leave this world," she sighed. "I love them so much. They're so hard to catch."

"I never had a fairy," Maxwell said.

Pam looked away from the road to grin at him. "Yum," she said, and Maxwell chuckled.

Eric closed his eyes. "Be quiet," he said sharply. He regretted it as soon as he'd said it; after all, they had only been trying to be cheerful in the wake of a friend's final death. They fell into silence again until Eric said, "Clancy lives on in Bill." He was reassuring himself more than they. He was the one who had ordered Clancy to forfeit his long life for Sookie's.

"As you live on in Sookie," Pam murmured, almost to herself.

It was an odd, cryptic thing for her to say, and he opened his eyes to look at her, but she was staring straight ahead at the road.

When they reached Sookie's house, Eric and Pam carried her inside to her bed. Pam laid a pack of True Bloods on the bedside table. "You'll be okay?" she asked him.

"We both will, thanks to you," he said, remembering the horrendous night before.

"Just following orders, Master."

"A welcome change."

Pam smiled. "I didn't say it would last."

He closed Sookie's front door as Pam and Maxwell drove off to deliver Bill to his own house. The plan was for Maxwell to stay with Bill and give him blood as needed until morning. Felicia would replace Maxwell the following night. After that, Bill would have to make his own arrangements or rely on True Blood.

Eric walked back to Sookie's bedroom and sifted through her chest of drawers until he found a gown that looked loose-fitting and soft. He leaned over her and smoothed her hair back. "Sookie, wake up." Her eyes drifted open. "You don't want to go to bed covered with blood and dirt, do you?" She shook her head. "Come, dear one," he said.

He helped her up and into the adjoining bathroom, where he started the hot water running and undressed her, mindful of all her wounds. Fortunately, her stitches were such that she could sit in an inch or two of water while he bathed her. The injuries he had seen earlier in the hospital were healing fast, which pleased him. Sookie leaned her head back on the edge of the bathtub and kept her eyes on his face as he took care of her. When he had finished and the water was swirling loudly down the drain, he helped her out of the tub and wrapped her in a towel. She stepped into him and laid her head on his chest as he held her to him.

"Is that better?" he asked. He felt her nod against him, and he smiled.

When she was dry, he slid her gown over her and guided her back to bed. He had nothing clean for himself, so he tossed all his clothes aside before he joined her. She reached for his hand and tugged him closer until he was settled in beside her. He felt love from her again… not a sudden wave as it had been earlier for Bill, but a blossoming warmth as she fell asleep in his arms.

Chapter Text

Thanks to his blood, Sookie's physical pain didn't last long, and only the very deepest of her wounds would turn into scars. But it wasn't physical pain that woke her at all hours of the night, sobbing and clinging to him like his young children had done centuries ago.

"Shhh," Eric murmured to her on the latest in a succession of these nights. "You're safe, my lover." He sat up and held her against him, stroking her hair as he rocked her.

"I could feel their teeth all over again… and darkness… thinking I would die… wishing for it…"

"Never," he whispered. He banished the thought that "never" was, in fact, only decades away.

In time her fingers loosened their grip on his arms, and her body relaxed. She raised her head to look at him. "I'm sorry, Eric. I know this isn't how you want to spend your nights." Her mouth curved into a half-hearted smile. "Especially now that I'm all scarred and-"

"I will not listen to that foolishness," he interrupted her. "I would just as happily fuck you now as I would then." He gave her his most devilish grin and was pleased when it coaxed a real smile from her. "Much better," he said, giving her a brief kiss. "Now, take that pleasant thought and go back to sleep."

To his surprise, she pushed herself up and began undoing the buttons on her pajama top – somewhat jarring since her tears still shone on her cheeks. Before he could speak, she said, "I want to." She shrugged off the top and reached for him. "I want to," she repeated.

He pulled her into his lap and guided her legs around his waist before settling his hands on her hips. "You want to what, exactly?" he asked, pressing his lips to the pulse in her neck.

"I want…" She shivered as he grazed his teeth over her collarbone. "I want to feel close to you."

"Is that all? I think you could feel close to me if we were to lie back down, and then you could get the sleep you need." He hid his smile in the curve of her neck as he kissed his way to her ear.

She gave an exasperated huff. "Eric Northman, you know what I-"

He covered her mouth with his and kissed her slowly, deliberately. "Yes, I know exactly what you mean, my lover," he said. "And there is nothing I would enjoy more. But you shouldn't yet." He laid one finger over her lips to stop her protest. "I said that you shouldn't."

Faster than a vampire's wink, he had laid her on her back and removed her pajama bottoms. He feathered his fingertips over her thighs, lingering on the one that had been so badly disfigured, then he kissed his way from her knee to the edge of the soft scar tissue.

"Don't," she whispered.

He crawled up to kiss her. "When I am giving you pleasure," he said, lowering one hand to do just that, "your body is mine. All of it." She whimpered as he stilled the movement of his hand. "Is that understood?"

"Yes, yes. Please don't stop, Eric."

He kissed her mouth once more before making his way down to replace his hand with his lips and tongue. When he had brought her to the edge of release, he raised his eyes to meet her gaze, just as he always did. Her hands had twisted into the sheets, and her body shone with perspiration, but she did not go over that sweet edge.

"I can't," she gasped. "I can't."

Unacceptable. He had never left a woman unsatisfied, and he certainly didn't intend to do so now. "What do you need, my lover? Tell me what you need."

She shook her head and sat up, swiping her fingers under her eyes. "There's nothing you can do. It just… won't happen."

Eric frowned. "But you feel pleasure."

Leaning forward, she gave him a brief, soft kiss. "So much, Eric. I promise. I just can't… you know." He loved that she blushed for him even now, after everything they had shared. She lay back down and tugged at him to move over her. "I like the feel of your weight on me," she said.

"You don't feel crushed?" he smiled.

She slid one of her legs over his and sighed. "I feel safe."

Quite wrongly, he assumed that Sookie would want to wait before they tried to have sex again. But the next night, just after he had risen, she surprised him by stepping into the shower with him.

"This brings back a nice memory," she said, backing him against the shower wall. "Let's make another one."

She didn't need to tell him twice. His body had overpowered his mind the moment she pulled back the curtain. He lifted her up easily and pushed into her as she wrapped her legs around his waist, then he turned them so that her back was the one supported by the wall. Thanks to the little that remained of his capacity for reason, he handled her as gently as he could; even that was forgotten, however, when she bit his shoulder and begged him to go harder, faster.

He came with a loud cry and felt Sookie go limp against his chest. She had not climaxed. As her breathing returned to normal, he waited in silence, still holding her up. Finally, she leaned her head back against the wall and smiled, blinking back the water that dripped and sprayed into her eyes.

"That was amazing," she said.

"Not for you, it seems."

Sookie unhooked her legs from his waist, and he carefully set her down. Then she stepped closer to him and took his face in both of her hands. "Eric, if sex was just about a few great seconds at the end, people wouldn't bother with it as much. It might take a while for all my gears to click back into place, but they'll never get right again unless I keep trying."

"Have you considered the possibility that your body is trying to tell you it is too soon?"

She shook her head. "That's not it. If it was too soon, it would hurt. And it would feel wrong." She trailed her palms over his shoulders and down his back. "Nothing about that felt wrong."

After that night, neither of them remarked on Sookie's inability to have an orgasm. Eric concentrated on doing everything that pleased her most, lingering a little longer, holding her at the edge, hoping to see her fall over it at last. But it did not happen. One or two times, Sookie stopped him because she could not continue. Sometimes she insisted that they make love, even when he could tell that she didn't feel up to it.

The only frustration he felt was his own; Sookie seemed to have endless patience about being left unsatisfied. No, what Sookie felt was anger. It sometimes engulfed her when they had sex, and those were the times when she begged him to go faster and harder, as if he had the magical power of driving demons out with his cock. Eternal life, superhuman strength, and flying were impressive enough, but that would be a new breed of skill altogether.

He kept his own worries and troubles locked away from her. There was the matter of Victor and what would be done with him… and what Ericwanted to do to him. Bill Compton was growing weaker and seemed less likely to survive. He was no favorite of Eric's, but he was an undeniable asset to the area, and Felipe would not be happy about losing him. Sandy Sechrest was, quite simply, a pain in the ass. But Sookie didn't need to worry about any of that.

What he would have to tell her eventually was why he had not come to save her. His own helplessness and pain and fear, while incomparable with hers, were not something he wished to discuss just yet. Sookie may not have wanted to know, either, for she had surprised him by never asking about it.

The first several nights after the attack he had spent at Sookie's house, but that was not a schedule he could maintain. With both Victor and Sandy breathing down his neck, he was required at Fangtasia for many more hours than he had been accustomed to spend there. Pam worked longer hours as well, uttering not a word of complaint. But what she didn't say aloud, he could see plainly on her face. What work he couldn't finish at the bar, he finished at home.

Home, at least, had improved: Sookie had finally agreed to visit him there. She had met him at Fangtasia, and he had taken her to his house, smiling as he followed her through the rooms. Perhaps she had been expecting black walls and coffins. Having taken note of her favorite foods during past visits at her house, he made sure that his own refrigerator and freezer were stocked with everything she could want. As he pored through paperwork in his office, she would sit nearby with a book, and occasionally they would look at each other with a homey warmth, as if they were any other middle-class American couple.

Seeing her in his bed for the first time had sent a rush of pleasure through every cell in his body. Fortunately, that had been a night when Sookie wanted to have sex. Lying in his bed, watching her as she moved over him, he hoped that the smell of her in his bed – throughout his house - would never fade.

He wondered when she would admit that she loved him. It was obvious now, every time he was near her. Yet it was always accompanied by uncertainty or fear or both. He could be patient; he had all the time in the world. The problem was that Sookie didn't.

"No… no…" Sookie murmured. She had been sound asleep beside him, but now he felt her stray strands of hair moving over his arm as she turned her head back and forth on the pillow. Her breaths came shorter and faster, and she began to cry. "Eric… Help me… Where are you? Where are you?"

Eric tossed aside the paperwork he had taken to bed and pulled her up against him. "I'm here, dear heart. Wake up."

She came to consciousness with a gasp, her fingernails digging into the skin on his shoulder as she clung to him. Her fear and grief overpowered him. His own grief overpowered him. Was it not enough that Victor had stopped him from saving Sookie? Could he not even help her in her nightmares?

Sookie raised her head and looked up at his face, and he realized that he was weeping. She shook her head. "Don't…"

She may not want to hear it, and he didn't particularly want to tell it, but the time had come for her to know why he had failed her. "I could feel your fear and your pain that night, but I couldn't come to you."

"Why not?" she asked. Her blood told him that she was afraid to know the answer.

"Victor wouldn't let me leave."

Her face fell, and he realized how often she had heard flimsy excuses about vampire politics and vampire business and vampire nature. I had to, she had been told. You can't understand, she had been told. They were excuses he himself had never – and would never – use to hurt her. He was enraged at Victor, enraged at Bill, enraged at himself.

"Sure," she muttered. She turned in his arms so that her back faced him, and she shifted away from him slightly.

"Victor's people chained me with silver. It burned me everywhere," he explained.

He could see her body relax as she absorbed this. "Literally," she said, and he knew what she meant, that he hadn't merely felt he couldn't go to her. That he was truly, physically prevented.

"Yes," he said. He closed his eyes. "Literally."

He told her about Victor's visit to Fangtasia, Bill's phone call, and his own call to Niall. He told her that he had been chained to the wall and that Victor had forbidden him to help her. With mounting fury, he told her that Niall and Bill met at her house to plan her rescue. Sookie listened quietly until he paused to bring his emotions into check.

"How did you get out of the chains?"

"I reminded Victor that Felipe had promised you protection." He gritted his teeth. "Promised it to you personally. Victor pretended not to believe me." He fell back against the pillows and stared up at the dark ceiling as he explained what Pam had told him later, how Victor's people had allowed her to call Felipe. "Felipe ordered Victor to let me go," he finished.

"Did Felipe punish Victor?" There was a hard edge to Sookie's voice that he never would have imagined hearing when he first met her that night in Fangtasia.

"There's the rub. Victor claimed he'd temporarily forgotten our marriage." If he had not been almost unconscious with agony during this phone conversation between Victor and Felipe, he could have argued his side. That, of course, had not happened. His lip curled in disgust as he continued, "Victor told our king that I was lying in an attempt to save my human lover from the fae. He said vampire lives must not be lost in the rescue of a human. He told Felipe that he hadn't believed Pam and me when we'd told him Felipe had promised you protection after you saved him from Sigebert."

Sookie turned toward him again and laid her hand on his chest. "Incredible," she mused. "Why didn't Felipe kill Victor?"

He propped himself on one elbow so that he could face her. "I've given that a lot of thought, of course. I think Felipe has to pretend he believes Victor." Seeing her confused look, he went on, "I think Felipe realizes that in making Victor his lieutenant in charge of the whole state of Louisiana, he has inflated Victor's ambitions to the point of indecency."

If Felipe had spies, which he surely must, doubtless he knew that Victor was carrying on as a king. Eric had grown increasingly frustrated with Felipe's failure to act. Was it cowardice? Some brand of political delicacy? Was Felipe keeping his cards close, waiting to make sure that he had the means to take Victor down?

"You were upset when you came to the hospital," Sookie observed, and it was more like a question.

"While you were with Neave and Lochlan, I suffered with you. I hurt with you. I bled with you." He paused. If Sookie still doubted that he loved her, it was time to erase that doubt. Too often he had told himself that there was no need to tell her, that his actions spoke for him. Now he realized the futility of that approach when dealing with a woman who had been so betrayed, so hurt by others who had claimed to love her. "Not only because we're bonded," he said slowly, wanting to make sure it registered with her, "but because of the love I have for you."

Her only response was a raised eyebrow.

A long silence stretched between them. "I believe you would have been there if you could have," she said at last. "I really do believe that. I know you would have killed them."

At least she believed that. It would have to be enough for now.

He reached over and drew her face against his chest. I do have a heart in there, my lover, even if you cannot hear it. And it belongs to you.

One of his tears hit her shoulder and colored a thin line of red on her skin as it rolled down. She sat up and wiped the tear with her finger, then laid it on his lips. He drew her fingertip into his mouth and swirled his tongue around it.

"I think we need to kill Victor," she said.

Whatever had been left of the sweet Southern belle in her virginal floral dress, it was gone now. But that woman, he realized, would never have married Eric Northman.

"More, Eric," Sookie moaned. "Please."

He stopped his movements, and she made a frustrated sound as he leaned to give her a slow kiss. "Relax," he said.

It had been weeks. It was time for her to let go. It was time for her to come for him.

He resumed moving inside her with long, deliberate strokes, caressing her small bundle of nerves with a feather-light fingertip. Her release was building, building, as it always did. Tonight she would have it. She may be stubborn, but so was he.

When he knew she was there, he pressed his lips to the shell of her ear. "You love me," he whispered.

Sookie arched up into him as she cried out, and her release flooded his blood with more than pleasure – pure joy. When he raised his head to look down at her, he smiled at the expression he saw there for the first time since she had been tortured.

He stroked her hair back from her face with one finger. "You… Are you all right?"

She exhaled slowly as her mouth curved into a smile so delicious he wanted to kiss her for hours. "I am very, very all right. I'm so all right, I might slide off the bed and lie in a puddle on the floor."

"So that was good for you?" he grinned. Remembering that she had been trying to enjoy sex for the last month, he amended, "Better than it's been?" In fact, lately she had faked a few orgasms, and he had pretended not to notice.

"You knew that…" she began, but he stopped her with a look. "Well, of course you knew. I just had some issues that had to work themselves out."

"I knew it couldn't be my lovemaking, wife of mine," he teased.

"Don't call me your wife," she said, though she smiled. "You know our so-called marriage is just strategy." Even in his present state of delight, the words stung. "To get back to your previous statement, A-one lovemaking, Eric." She draped one arm around his neck. "The no-orgasm problem was in my head. Now I've self-corrected."

Self-corrected, my ass. "You are bullshitting me, Sookie." He kissed her and felt himself stirring inside her again. "But I'll show you some 'A-one lovemaking.'" She gasped in surprise as he rolled her over on top of him. "Because I think you can come again."

"Just like riding a bicycle," she said. Then she laughed. "Or maybe I should say, just like riding a Viking."

Wherever Sookie had been, she had come back. Literally.

Chapter Text

"Mr. um…. Vampire?"

Eric looked away from his laptop to meet the gaze of the young woman who stood at his left, just behind the empty bar stool beside him. Her black hair was styled into spikes, some dyed pink and purple, and she seemed to have a piercing impaling every available inch of pliant skin on her face. He raised one eyebrow, waiting for her to continue.

"I have a huge favor to ask," she said. Her face flushed as she raised up her phone. "See, I just read on Twitter that my asshole ex-boyfriend is on his way here with his new girl, the one he cheated on me with, and I was wondering if…" She smiled sheepishly. "I was wondering if there's, like, a vampire here at the bar who could pose as my boyfriend for a little while. I could pay him if I had to. I would… let him drink me afterwards."

Eric tapped two knuckles on the bar stool. "Sit," he said, and she obeyed him without question. "No vampire here will pose as your boyfriend," he told her.

Her face fell. "Oh. Okay. Look, I'm sorry I-"

"You see that blond vampire at the door?"

"The one who carded me, yeah."

Eric smiled. "That is Pam. Go to her and tell her that I want her to pose as your girlfriend."

"My girlfriend."

"That's right. It will agitate your ex-boyfriend much more, and I will be compensated with the entertainment. Go."

The girl didn't need telling twice; Eric watched as she strode over to Pam, his grin widening as Pam absorbed the information and glared in his direction. To her credit, Pam put on quite a performance, making a great show of baring her fangs at the ex-boyfriend when he arrived, and even fondling the spikes in the girl's hair when she kissed her. By the end of it, the girl seemed ready to kiss her heterosexuality goodbye, and the ex-boyfriend had been abandoned by his annoyed date.

Eric retreated to his office to print out the reports he had been working on, filing them – as he always did now – in several different places known only to himself and Pam. She stepped into the office a little while later, but his smile faded quickly when he saw the expression on her face.

"Someone to see you," she said. She moved aside to show in a female vampire that Eric recognized right away as part of Victor's retinue.

"What brings you here, Heidi?" Eric asked her, leaning back in his desk chair with forced nonchalance.

Heidi approached his desk and sat across from him as Pam slipped out and shut the door. "Victor sent me to assist you here at Fangtasia from now on."

To spy on us, you mean. "To assist me with what, exactly?" he asked coolly.

"I'm a tracker, and a damned good one at that. With the Weres getting all antsy about the stuff in Congress, Victor thinks it's wise to have extra eyes and ears around this place. Not to mention the fairy troubles you've had. So here I am."

"Working for me but, I assume, taking your orders from Victor."

Heidi smiled a little. "He is the king."

"Well, then." Eric rummaged through the papers on his desk and withdrew some forms. "New hire paperwork. Complete it outside in the bar and return it when you're done." He waited until she had closed the door behind her, then hissed, "Fuck."

His house was dark when he returned to it in the early hours of the morning, and he felt the sting of disappointment despite the fact that he already knew Sookie would be staying in Bon Temps. As if she had known that he wanted her, she called not five minutes later.

"Hi, sweetie," she said, and he could tell that she had been asleep.

"Did you have a nightmare, my lover?"

"Oh, no." She paused and yawned. "I set the alarm for when you usually get home. I wanted to call and say hi. I miss you."

He smiled at the phone. "How was work?"

"Super busy, but all the customers were nice. You?"

"Nothing out of the ordinary." Eric paused and looked around for a moment. "Perhaps you could tell me something."

"Hmmm?"

"Perhaps you could tell me why I feel you here in the house."

"Oh, I don't know. It might be because I'm in your bed, waiting for you to hurry up and get here."

He was there before she finished the sentence, and she laughed as she tossed her phone onto the bedside table. She wore nothing but one of his t-shirts, and he growled as he threw off his own clothes to join her.

"Did you really have work?" he asked as he kissed his way up to her mouth.

"Got off early," she gasped. His hands wandered up under the shirt. "Which you better not do."

He laughed and kept her very, very late.

"Another friend asked me if we're dating," she said. She had curled up against him, one arm draped over his chest. "It sounds so strange to say I'm dating you."

"Dating is a misleading word. You are my wife."

"Technically." She raised herself up on her elbow and kissed him. "But not really, Eric. You know that."

He said nothing.

"Any word from Victor lately?" she asked a few minutes later.

"Only the usual," he said, and he knew that she would feel the sudden tension in his body.

She raised her head again to meet his eyes. "What would happen if he reported to Felipe that you weren't doing a good job? That they should have… gotten rid of you during the takeover?"

"I'm keeping paperwork to prove differently, and I'm keeping it in several places. My area has risen steadily in both stability and profit, just as it always has. There is nothing Victor can hold against me."

"I hate that I don't get to see you much," she said, tracing the line of his face with her fingers. "But I know that you have things to take care of, including yourself."

He stared up at the ceiling as she lay her head back down on his shoulder, falling asleep not long after that. He pulled the blankets up over them and held her to him.

And nothing more than you, he thought.

A few nights later, he entered his office to find a post-it note stuck on the upper corner of his computer. "Victor 8:00," it read in Pam's handwriting. Eric cursed, crumpled up the small square of paper, and tossed it in the trash can. He had just risen from an uncomfortable sleep in his coffin at the bar, only to find this waiting for him.

His cell phone rang and vibrated, and he wrenched it angrily from his pocket, assuming it to be Victor. But the caller ID bore another, much more welcome name.

"I am here, my lover," he greeted Sookie, settling into his chair and starting the computer.

"Well, I'm here, too, obviously," she replied, and he smiled. "Listen," she continued, her voice unusually shaky, "I really need to talk to you. Some things have come up."

"You're worried," he said, frowning.

"Yes. With good reason."

He glanced at the time. "I have a meeting in thirty minutes with Victor. You know how tense that's likely to be." It would be even tenser if he had to postpone or cancel it, which he would certainly do if Sookie's problem required immediate attention.

"I do know," she replied, "and I'm sorry to pester you with my problems. But you're my boyfriend, and part of being a good boyfriend is listening."

Not an emergency, then. And, as always, she would assume the worst and jump to the conclusion that he did not care to hear about her problem. "Your boyfriend," he said, shaking his head. "That sounds…" Insulting? "Strange. I am so not a boy."

"Foof, Eric!" was her frustrated answer. Sookie, with her amusing expressions. "I don't want to stand here in the bathroom trying to talk terminology." He only had a second to absorb that before she went on, "What's the bottom line? Are you going to have free time later or not?"

He gave a wry laugh at the idea of "free" time. That was a long-forgotten luxury. But Sookie time – there was no shortage of that. "Yes, for you," he said. "Can you drive over here?" Before she could reply, he realized that her driving to Shreveport might not be safe if her problem was serious. "Wait. I'll send Pam for you. She'll be at your house at… one o'clock. All right?"

"Okay, and warn Pam that…" She hesitated for a moment. "Well, tell her not to get… carried away by anything, hear?"

He smiled. "Oh, certainly. I'll be glad to pass that very specific message along."

He shut the phone and walked to the door, peering out to locate Pam. When she looked in his direction, he signaled for her to join him in the office.

"You got my note?" she asked as she came in.

"I did, yes, much to my displeasure. I need you to drive to Bon Temps and pick up Sookie at her house at 1:00. Bring her to my place."

"Is her car broken?"

"No," he said. "And, fortunately, neither is yours." Pam gave him a short, brisk nod. "She said to tell you not to get carried away, whatever the hell that means." He glanced at the clock, then back up at her. "Victor will be here soon."

Victor showed himself in, as he always did now, but instead of sitting as he usually did, he leaned against the doorframe. "Eric, Pam," he said, nodding to each of them. No play at being charming tonight; either he was in a hurry, or he just didn't care anymore. Eric hoped it was the former.

Eric managed a "Victor" in reply; Pam simply looked at him.

"I cannot stay," he said. "I only wanted to make certain that you were here to receive the news in person. I've sent Sandy back to Vegas. It seemed extraneous to have a go-between when I am such a hands-on manager. You will report directly to me, and I, in turn, will keep an eye on you." He gave a dark smile. "Sound good?"

"I wish I could drive a stake right between his eyes," Pam growled when they were alone again.

His blood came to life moments before he heard Pam's car in his garage, then the jingle of her keys at his door, and finally Sookie's voice calling his name. He met her halfway, smiling at the sight of her, barefoot, pretty, and happy to see him. She ran her eyes down from his face and over his bare chest to the waist of his jeans. If the little flare of lust was any indication, she liked what she saw.

He extended his arms to her. "Jump!"

She laughed and ran into his arms, and he lifted her high, just as he had done when they danced in Rhodes. Unable to resist her smiling mouth any longer, he slid her down his body until her head was only slightly above his, then kissed her insistently, hungrily. With his arms tight around her waist, and her arms and legs latched around him, the pounding of her heart was a steady thud against his chest. He imagined it could beat for both of them – bring him to life. He almost expected his idle lungs to expand and meet every rhythmic push of her chest against his.

"Back to earth, monkey girl," came Pam's voice, bringing him back to the present. "Time is passing."

With great regret, he ended their kiss, though Sookie pressed her lips briefly to his one last time before she loosened her limbs and her feet touched the floor. She smiled at him with real affection, and it thrilled him.

"Come," he said. He placed his hand on the small of her back and guided her to the chair. "Sit, and tell me what's wrong." He sat on the sofa across from her before he remembered that they were not alone. "Do you want Pam to know, too?"

She turned to Pam and nodded. "Yes." They waited as Pam took a seat beside Eric and crossed her legs. "Day before yesterday, I got a call from Alcide Herveaux," she said. "And I've met some of the new Weres in his pack. Do you two know Basim and Annabelle?"

"I've seen this Basim," Pam confirmed. "He came to Fangtasia one night with another Were, another new one." She thought for a moment. "That Annabelle, the brown-haired woman. She's Alcide's new…" Eric saw his child's lips form another word before she rethought it and finished, "Squeeze."

Sookie shook her head. "She must have hidden assets."

It wasn't like Sookie to disparage another woman, and he turned to her with interest. "Not what you thought Alcide would pick, my lover?"

"I liked Maria-Star," she shrugged. She looked sorry that she had said anything.

"But before that, he had long associated with Debbie Pelt," he reminded her. "You can see that Alcide is… catholic in his pleasures. He carried the torch for you, didn't he?" Sookie lowered her eyes and blushed. "From a true bitch to a startling talent" – he paused to give Sookie an affectionate smile that she did not see – "to a sweet photographer to a tough girl who doesn't mind visiting a vampire bar. Alcide has very variable taste in women."

Pam could always be counted on to get to the point – or to return to a point that had been lost in "piffle," as she liked to call it. "He sent Annabelle and Basim to the club for a purpose," she explained to Sookie. "Have you been reading the newspapers lately?"

"No." Sookie gave them a wry little smile. "I've been enjoying not reading the papers."

Pam told her about the bill in Congress, which would essentially lump Weres and shifters in with the vampires.

"But that's not right!" Sookie exclaimed.

"Not too surprisingly, the Weres are furious about this," Eric continued. He related Alcide's suspicions about his pack being spied on. "Alcide has good sense. But he believes he's being watched."

"It would be awful to think your own government was spying on you, especially after you'd been thinking of yourself as a regular citizen your entire life," Sookie mused, and Eric had to bite his tongue to keep from telling her that she was naïve if she thought her government didn't watch its people, even its "regular citizens," more than they believed. "Where would they have to register?" she asked. "Could the kids still go to school with all the other children? What about the men and women at Barksdale Air Force Base?" Whether or not her questions were rhetorical, Eric and Pam had no answers. Eric frankly didn't give a shit. He wished that Sookie would get to the problem that had brought her here. She, unfortunately, could not seem to break the habit of caring about other people. "After all these years! Do you think the bill really has a chance of passing?"

"The Weres believe it does," Pam replied, sounding bored. "Maybe it's paranoia. Maybe they've heard something through the members of Congress who are two-natured. Maybe they know something we don't know." She waved her hand in dismissal. "Alcide sent this Annabelle and Basim al Saud to tell me they might be in the same boat with us soon. They wanted to know about the area representative for the BVA, what kind of woman she is, how they could deal with her."

"Who is the rep?"

"Katherine Boudreaux. She likes women somewhat more than men, like I do." Pam grinned, then wrinkled her nose. "She also loves dogs. She has a steady lover, Sallie, who shares her house. Katherine is not interested in having a side affair, and she is unbribable."

Sookie looked back and forth between them. "You've tried, I take it."

Eric had tried to file a complaint against Victor after the incident with Lochlan and Neave, but Katherine had refused to take action, saying that it should be left under Felipe's jurisdiction. She was useless as far as he was concerned.

"I tried to interest her sexually," Pam purred. "Bobby Burnham tried the bribe."

"Well, I'm real glad to know all this," Sookie said. "But my real problem came after the Weres used my land."

Eric sat up. Finally, they had come to the point. "You let the Weres use your property for their monthly run?" he asked her.

"Well… yeah. Hamilton Bond said there were people camping out on the Herveaux land, and now that I've heard what Alcide's told you…" She paused. "And I'm wondering why he didn't tell me all this…" She shook her head and went on, "I can see why he didn't want to have a run on his own land. I guess he thought the campers were government agents. What would the new agency be called?"

"The legislation going through Congress proposes it be called the Bureau of Vampire and Supernatural Affairs," Pam said, disdain dripping from the word "supernatural."

"Get back to your issues, my lover," Eric prompted Sookie. At the very least, he could feel sure that nothing was terribly wrong.

"Okey dokey. Well, when they were leaving, Basim came to the front door and told me he'd smelled at least one fairy and some other vampire traveling through my land," she said with a frown. "And my cousin Claude says he wasn't the fairy."

The vampire could be one of Victor's people. He wouldn't be at all surprised if Victor had assigned one or more spies to Sookie. As for the fairy, that was puzzling.

"Interesting," he said at last.

Pam looked at him, probably thinking much the same thing as he was, at least as far as the unknown vampire was concerned. "Very odd," she agreed.

Yet another possibility was that the Were was lying. "I don't know the credentials of this Basim," he mused aloud, and he told them about Basim's expulsion from Houston. "We'll check on what Basim told you," he finished. As it happened, he did have a tracker in his area now, though he didn't know how dependable she would be if the mysterious vampire happened to be one of her boss's men. Even so, he didn't have many options. He looked from Sookie to Pam. "That new girl, Heidi, says she's a tracker."

Pam arched an eyebrow, her face reflecting his own uncertainty about what they could hope to gain from Heidi.

"You got a new vamp?" Sookie asked.

He turned back to her. "This is one sent us by Victor. Even from New Orleans, supposedly, Victor is running the state with a tight hand. He sent Sandy, who was supposed to be the liaison, back to Nevada. I suspect Victor thought he didn't have enough control over her."

"How can he get New Orleans up and running if he travels around the state as much as Sandy did?"

It was Pam who answered her. "I'm assuming he's leaving Bruno Brazell in charge," she explained. "I think Bruno pretends Victor is in New Orleans, even when Victor isn't. The rest of Victor's people don't know where he is half the time." Her mouth twisted with anger. "Since he killed off all the New Orleans vampires he could find, we've had to rely on the information of our one spy who survived the massacre."

"Spy" was an overly kind word for the skulking, unreliable piece of shit they had in New Orleans.

"So Victor likes to be in the trenches," Sookie concluded. Eric looked at her, bemused. Victor had not been involved in the humans' first World War, so her meaning was lost on him. "He likes to see for himself and do for himself, rather than rely on the chain of command," she clarified.

"Yes, and the chain of command can be quite heavy and literal under Victor," Pam agreed with a dark smile.

Eric thought of the silver chains that Victor had used to keep him from saving Sookie, and for a moment he forgot where he was. Sookie's voice brought him back to the present.

"Pam and I were talking about Victor on the drive over here," she said. "I wonder why Felipe de Castro chose Victor to be his representative in Louisiana."

Eric and Pam looked at each other; they had discussed this several times over the past weeks. He leaned back and stretched out his legs, not failing to notice that Sookie's eyes were on him. "There are two schools of thought about that," he began, grinning at the desire he felt from her. And she knew that he knew, for she turned pink and glanced away. "One is that Felipe wants Victor as far away as he can get him. I believe that Felipe feels that if he gives Victor a big chunk of red meat, he won't be tempted to try to snatch the whole steak." If his theory was correct, Felipe had questionable judgment. Eric believed the old adage about keeping enemies close – especially enemies with spies and too much ambition.

"While others of us," Pam continued, giving him a pointed look, "think that Felipe simply appointed Victor because Victor is very efficient. That Victor's devotion to Felipe is possibly sincere."

Eric had his doubts about Pam's take on the situation, and he attributed it to his longer acquaintance with Victor. No one trusted Victor Madden. He doubted if Victor's right hand trusted his left.

"If the first theory is correct" – which it is, he thought – "there isn't perfect trust between Felipe and Victor."

"If the second theory is correct, and we act against Victor, Felipe will kill us all," Pam said grimly.

"I'm getting your drift," Sookie nodded. She sighed. "I hate to sound really selfish, but the first thought that popped into my mind is this. Since Victor wouldn't let you come to help me when I needed you – and, incidentally, I know that I owe you big-time, Pam – that means Victor's not honoring the promise, huh?" She directed the question at him, and he could tell that she favored his theory over Pam's. "Felipe promised me that he would extend his protection to me… which he ought to have, because I saved his life, right?"

She had pointed out the unsettling truth about both theories: either way, she wasn't safe. If Felipe had sent Victor away because he didn't trust him, he had no real way to ensure Victor's compliance in protecting Sookie. And if, as Pam believed, Victor and Felipe did trust each other, then Felipe's promise was obviously worthless.

"I think Victor will do his best not to openly cause you harm," said Pam, for once saying something in the most diplomatic and encouraging way possible, "until and if he decides to try to become king in his own right. If Victor decides to make a grab for the kingship, all promises made by Felipe are so many words without meaning."

Eric nodded, though he knew all three of them were thinking the same thing: thus far, Felipe's promise had proven to be "so many words without meaning."

"That's just great," Sookie muttered.

"This is all assuming we don't find a way to kill him first," Pam said.

If Sookie was remembering her own remark to him about killing Victor, her face betrayed no sign of it as she met each of their eyes in turn. "And you think this Heidi, who's supposed to be such a great tracker, is here in Shreveport to be Victor's eyes and ears?" she asked.

"Yes," Pam replied. She thought for a moment, then added, "Unless she's here to be Felipe's eyes and ears, so Felipe can keep track of what Victor is doing in Louisiana."

Eric shook his head, but said nothing. Heidi was Victor's through and through.

"So what should I do about the Long Tooth pack's warning?" Sookie asked. She looked over at him. "You're going to send Heidi to my place to try to track the fairy?" When he confirmed this with a nod, she said, "I have to tell you something else. Basim scented a body – not a fresh one – buried very deep at the back of my property."

The Do you know what I mean? expression on her face was unnecessary; since his memory had returned, he had a very clear recollection of burying the Were-bitch Debbie Pelt. Clearly his cursed self hadn't been overly bright to bury the body in Sookie's own yard.

"Oh. Whoops." Pam was staring back and forth between them, and he turned to her, cocking his head in the direction of the kitchen door. "Give us some alone time." When she was gone, he returned his attention to Sookie. "I'm sorry, my lover. Unless you've buried someone else on your property and kept it from me, that body is Debbie Pelt's."

He had only confirmed what she already knew, and she nodded. "Is the car back there, too?" she asked.

"No. The car is sunk in a pond about ten miles south of your place."

His mind wandered to those days at her house, and whatever she said after that, he did not register it. "Come here."

The lines of worry on her face instantly melted. Her mouth curved up into a smile. "Hmmm… What will you give me if I do?"

"I think you know very well what I will give you," he said, returning her smile. "I think you love me to give it to you."

She arched an eyebrow. "So you don't enjoy it at all?"

Any more seconds without her body under his hands were seconds wasted. In a flash he was kneeling between her legs, kissing her within an inch of her life. He slid one hand up her leg and under her skirt while he busied his mouth at the juncture of her neck and shoulder. "I think you know how I feel," he said. "We are bonded." He kissed his way up to her ear. "Can you believe I'm not thinking of you while I work?" He raised his head to look down at her, running his gaze from her eyes to her parted, panting lips. "When my eyes open, I think of you… of every part of you." He slid his thumb past the edge of the cotton that separated him from the warmest, softest part of her, and her mouth fell open with her sharp intake of breath. He focused his eyes on hers as he circled the tip of his thumb slowly and feather-light. "Do you love me?" He slipped one finger inside her, then two.

"I love being with you, whether we're having sex or not," she said. Still hedging, my lover? He curled his fingers, and she arched her body up against him. "Oh, God, do that again!" she begged, and he obliged her. She trailed her hands up his chest to hold onto his shoulders. "I love your body… I love what we do together." He smiled. "You make me laugh, and I love that. I like to watch you do anything." She drew his face to hers and kissed him, her tongue meeting his in a rhythm that matched the movement of his fingers. "I like to watch you get dressed… I like to watch you undress…" she continued, her breaths short and shallow now. "I like to watch your hands when you're doing this to me…" She cried out as she found her release, resting her forehead on his shoulder as she regained her breath. He straightened her panties and skirt, but continued to stroke her thighs, paying special attention to the scar left by Lochlan and Neave, the badge of her strength. She lifted her head and met his eyes. "If I asked you the same question, what would your answer be?"

He knew that she loved him, and if she thought that love was best expressed in the words she had just chosen, then he would echo them. He smoothed her disheveled hair. "I would say exactly the same thing, and I think that means I love you." His blood felt warm, as it had done when he was alive. Her blood was singing through his. "If this is not true love," he said softly, "it's as close as anyone gets." He gave her a mischievous smile and indicated his jeans, which had become terribly uncomfortable. "Can you see what you've done to me?"

Sookie looked at him coyly and batted her eyelashes. "That looks painful." She reached between them and toyed with the button at his waist. "Would you like me to nurse it?"

A low, inarticulate rumble in his throat was the only response he could manage. After a bit of hasty rearranging, he had taken Sookie's place in the chair, while she knelt between his legs. She unfastened his jeans and smiled up at him when she saw that they were her only obstacle. She lowered her mouth to take him in, and he slid his fingers into her hair, wanting to touch her as she gave him pleasure.

She could never take much of him in this way, but she was masterful with her lips and tongue and fingers. He didn't realize how roughly his hands had twisted into her hair until she gave a soft whimper, which directed his blissful tension to the arms of the furniture. He hardly knew what he was saying or what sounds he was making, only that he was lost in the feel of her mouth, the pressure of her hand, the smell of her own pleasure, and the glowing rush of her blood inside him.

"Min älskade!"

Everything faded for a moment – everything except Sookie, who smiled as she rose before him, crystal clear and perfect.

He reached for her hand. "Was that enough love for you?"

She replied with a sound of contentment and allowed herself to be folded into his arms. "Pam must think we forgot about her," she said after a few minutes.

"We did forget about her, my lover," he said with a laugh. "I suppose I owe her two favors now."

"Two?" she asked.

"A young woman interrupted my work some nights ago at the bar. She asked me to pose as her boyfriend in order to make her former lover jealous."

"Did you tell her that you're a married man? Er, vampire?"

The fact that she had said it, even jokingly, pleased him. "Better. I told Pam to pose as her girlfriend."

Sookie laughed. "Oh, she must have loved that."

He joined in her laughter and tightened his arms around her. They faded into peaceful silence for another few minutes, Sookie's steady breaths relaxing him while he stroked his fingers up and down her arm.

"No news from Bon Temps?" he asked eventually. "No maenad sightings or anything of that nature?"

He felt her smile against his shoulder. "Nope. The county work crew is patching up my road, and it's real torn up. That's about it." She lifted her head to kiss him. "I know I should leave in a minute. You have work to do, and Pam can drive me home."

He thought of the mundane matters waiting for him in his office and knew she was right. After kissing her soundly and confirming his plan to send Heidi, he watched with regret as she left the house to find Pam.

The fear gripped him suddenly while he was reviewing the month's supply order. Because he felt it from both Sookie and Pam, it was doubly crippling until he was able to contain it and bring it under control. Because he could feel that they were both still alive, he left his house and drove toward the Interstate with calm resolve. His phone lay on the car seat beside him, stubbornly silent.

When the screen finally glowed with Pam's name, he snatched up the phone. "Where is she?" he shouted. "Were you attacked? Was it Victor? Does Sookie live?"

"Shut up, and I'll explain," Pam said shortly. "Of course she lives."

"She does. I can feel it." Frankly ashamed of his panicky outburst, he reined himself in. Both Pam and Sookie were safe and calm. "Tell me what happened," he said with his usual command.

"What you might have expected. Bruno and Corinna. I killed one, and Sookie took care of the other. We have cleared the scene. Go somewhere it's reasonable to be going in a hurry… back to the bar in answer to some crisis, to the all-night dry cleaners to pick up your suits, to the store to pick up some True Blood. Don't lead them here."

"Is Sookie injured in any way?"

"Her throat will be bruised."

"And you say she killed one of them herself?"

"Yes, she killed Bruno herself."

He laughed in spite of himself. "Tell my ruthless wife that I'm proud of her."

After a short pause, Pam sighed, "All right, I'll tell her." He waited while Pam relayed his message, sounding very put out about it.

"Pam gave me the knife," he heard Sookie say.

"But it was Sookie's idea to move the car," Pam added. "I'm trying to think of where to put it. The truck stops will have security cameras. I think we'll leave it on the shoulder well past the Bon Temps exit."

"Yes, do that. I'll meet you at the bar," he said, and he hung up.

Chapter Text

"I have dropped her off all safe and sound," Pam told him when she arrived at Fangtasia. She yawned. "Dawn is approaching. Are you planning to sleep here?"

Eric folded his arms and leaned forward on his desk. "I should have listened to you before now," he mused. She turned to him, confused, and he continued, "When you said I should tell Sookie more about our politics. She could suffer for her ignorance, and I cannot let that happen."

"I am right occasionally."

He smiled. "Occasionally." He closed his laptop and stood, stretching his arms toward the ceiling, and that made him think of holding Sookie earlier at his house… the gleeful expression on her face. "As much as I hate to add to her worries, she is my wife now, and it is necessary for her to know certain things."

Pam sat on the couch and pulled off her high heels, then leaned back and dangled the shoes by their straps from one finger. "What is the expression the Southern people use? Preaching to the choir."

The following evening was slow and dull; Eric sent Heidi to examine Sookie's property just after sundown, and then he busied himself in his office until Fangtasia closed for the night. When Heidi returned, she reported that she had smelled fairies, but she had nothing more specific. Though Eric knew that Sookie would be sound asleep, he could not resist going to her house instead of his own. The desire to be near her was too great, especially because he sensed that something was worrying her.

The sublime scent of fairy met him as soon as he stepped onto her porch and grew even stronger when he entered the house. He also smelled a human man. Curious, he opened Sookie's bedroom door slightly and peered in, but her room was empty save for her. Behind another bedroom door, he was surprised to see a little boy sprawled under the covers. Now quite bemused, he proceeded upstairs, where the fairy scent was even stronger. A quick and silent glimpse behind yet another door revealed the source: a dark-haired, very handsome fairy asleep in the bed. Whatever human man had been in the house, he was now gone. Eric closed the door and went back downstairs, shaking his head. Sookie, at least, had had an interesting day.

He longed to join her in the bed and mold his body against her warmth, but he thought better of waking her at this hour – especially with a fairy in the house. He went to the kitchen and tore a sheet from the magnetic notepad that hung on Sookie's refrigerator, then took a pen from the cup near the telephone.

My lover, he wrote, I came in too close to dawn to wake you, though I was tempted. Your house is full of strange men. A fairy upstairs and a little child downstairs – He paused and smiled, continuing, but as long as there's not one in my lady's chamber, I can stand it. I need to talk to you when I rise. He signed the note and left it by her coffee maker.

That done, he made for the "hidey-hole," which was in the room where the child slept. The door creaked when Eric pushed it fully open, and the boy stirred and woke, squinting as his eyes adjusted to the darkness. Eric smiled at Sookie's small guest and disappeared into the closet to enter the space beneath it.

He opened his eyes while the sun was still low in the sky; though he couldn't see it, his body was attuned to it through centuries of marking its rising and setting. He could both hear and feel Sookie moving about the house. With great impatience, he waited for the earth to yawn and roll over slowly, blocking Bon Temps from the sun until morning. The lazy planet took its time, as if it knew he was waiting and just didn't care. When he finally flung back the trapdoor, he leapt out and made quick strides to the kitchen, where he found Sookie waiting, smiling.

He lifted her up onto her kitchen counter, stepped into the sweet cradle of her legs, and kissed her until her body was soft and limp against his – all but her legs, which were locked around him like a vise. She made a little sound of protest when he ended the kiss. As much as he would have enjoyed making love to her right then and there, they had to talk first.

Sookie reached to one side and popped open the microwave door to reveal a freshly warmed bottle of TrueBlood. He grimaced, but he took the bottle and shut the microwave. Sookie loosened her legs so that he could step back and drink. He downed it quickly – nothing to savor there – and set the bottle aside. He rested his hands on her legs, ordering himself to be good until they had finished their discussion.

"Who is the child?" he began.

"Hadley's son."

He raised an eyebrow. He had known Hadley only as the vampire queen's lover. "She was married to a breather?"

"Yes," she nodded, "before she met Sophie-Anne. A very nice guy named Remy Savoy."

"Is that him I smell?" he asked, referring to the scent of the human male, now almost undetectable. "Along with a big scent of fairy?"

She confirmed that this Remy Savoy was the man who had come into the house. She didn't answer his second question about the fairy.

"And?" he prompted.

Sookie's expression turned slightly sheepish. "I meant to tell you this the other night. My cousin Claude…?" When he nodded to confirm that he remembered Claude, she continued, "He asked if he could stay here for a while because he's lonely in his house with both his sisters dead."

Eric fought back an amused smile at the idea of a fairy being lonely. Whatever this Claude's reason for being here, it was not loneliness. "You are letting a man live with you," he said slowly, acclimating himself to the idea.

"Believe me, he's not interested in me as a woman," she said quickly. "He is all about the guys."

Sookie he trusted completely; this Claude he most definitely did not. But Sookie seemed confident in her safety, so he would let the matter rest. "I know you are fully aware of how to take care of a fairy who gives you trouble," he said finally, smiling a little.

"Yes. And if it'll make you feel better, I'll keep a squirt gun loaded with lemon juice on my bedside table."

That would be a good thing for Sookie to do at all times, considering her history with the fairies. "That would make me feel better," he told her. "Is it this Claude that Heidi scented on your land?" He slid a hand down one of her arms. "I felt you were very worried, and that's one reason I came over last night."

She shook her head. "She says neither of the fairies she tracked was Claude, and that really worries me. But—"

"It worries me, too," he mused aloud, recalling Neave and Lochlan and thinking about all the others of their ilk. His eyes fell on the drained bottle, its sides streaked red with synthetic blood. "Sookie, there are things you should know."

She gave a grumbling "Oh," and he looked back up at her. What he saw on her face was a mixture of impatience and disappointment. Her negative attitude would not help matters. He motioned to the table, and she hopped off the counter and dropped herself heavily into the chair he pulled out for her. As he sat down across from her, he was about to reach for her hand, but she had crossed her arms in front of her on the table.

"You remember the summit at Rhodes?" he said, starting right in. "And how a strip of states from south to north were invited?" Her only answer was a nod. "Once we had ventured from one side of the New World to another, and the white breathing population migrated across, too – we were the first explorers – a large group of us met to divide things up for better governing of our own population."

"Were there any Native American vampires here when you came?" she asked. "Hey, were you on the Leif Erikson expedition?"

He smiled a little. So many humans, in their struggle for context, latched onto the only Viking name they knew. "No, not my generation," he said. "Oddly enough, there were very few Native American vampires, and the ones that were here were different in several ways." Many of the indigenous vampires, including Hot Rain, had been regarded as tribal elders; their existence was no secret to their human counterparts. And in Mexico, the vampire Quetzalcoatl had been worshiped as a god-like figure. The indigenous vampires had not taken kindly to the new vampires' emphasis on secrecy and detachment from humans. "At that first national meeting about three hundred years ago," he recalled, "there were many disagreements."

"No, really?" she smirked. Then, seeing his expression, she gave him a half-hearted signal to continue.

He explained how they had divided the new country into vertical strips rather than using the humans' regional divisions of North, South, and West. "So the easternmost division," he said, "which is mostly the coastal states, is called Moshup Clan, for the Native American mythical figure, and its symbol is a whale." Judging from the expression on her face, Sookie had clearly never heard of the benevolent giant. "Look it up on the internet," he said with a wave of his hand. There was too much to discuss already without getting sidetracked by the mythology of each region's namesake. "Our clan – the states that met in Rhodes compose this one – is Amun, a god from the Egyptian system, and our symbol is a feather because Amun wore a feathered headdress." He tapped his upper left chest. "Do you remember that we all wore feather pins there?" She shook her head, looking dazed. "Well, it was a busy summit," he said briskly. "To our west is Zeus, from the Roman system, and a thunderbolt is their symbol, of course." Sookie was an intelligent woman; she had known about maenads, after all. Her only answer to him was a flippant nod. "Sookie," he said slowly, trying to swallow his irritation by conceding to himself that all of this must sound very convoluted and silly to a human, "this is important." He reached out and touched her hand briefly. "As my wife, you must know this."

"Okay, go ahead," she said, looking somewhat chastened.

He told her about the fourth and final clan, Narayana. "Its symbol is an eye because Narayana created the sun and moon from his eyes."

Sookie looked thoughtful. "But there were some vampires at the summit in Rhodes – the Amun Clan summit – that should be in Zeus, right?"

So she had been listening, in spite of her attitude, and she actually cared. His heart felt lighter. "Yes, good!" he said. "There are visitors at the summits if they have some vested interest in a topic under discussion, or if they are engaged in a lawsuit against someone in that division, or if they're going to marry someone in the division whose time it is to have a summit."

When Sookie smiled at him, he realized that he himself had been grinning broadly. Thinking only of the burden he would be putting on her, he hadn't even realized how Sookie might welcome this deeper understanding of his world. She had always seemed to find comfort and confidence in knowledge, rather than fearing it as some humans did. He should have done this a long time ago. Preaching to the choir, he heard Pam saying in his head.

"I understand," she said. She was leaning forward now, engaged. "So how come Felipe conquered Louisiana, since we're Amun and he's… ah, is Nevada in Narayana or Zeus?"

"Narayana," he replied. "He took Louisiana because he wasn't as frightened of Sophie-Anne as everyone else. He planned and executed quickly and with precision after the…" He paused. She wouldn't know the clan's Kshatriyas term. They had taken more than their name from Hinduism. "Governing… board… of Narayana Clan approved his plan." Close enough.

"He had to present a plan before he moved on us?" she asked. He liked that she said us.

"That's the way it's done. The kings and queens of Narayana wouldn't want their territory weakened if Felipe failed and Sophie-Anne managed to take Nevada, so he had to outline his plan."

Sookie frowned. "They didn't think we might want to say something about that plan?" Us. We. She was thinking like one of them… she was thinking like his wife.

"Not their concern," he said frankly. "If we're weak enough to be taken, then we are fair game. Sophie-Anne was a good leader and much respected. With her incapacitation, Felipe judged we were weak enough to attack. Stan's lieutenant in Texas has struggled these past few months since Stan was injured in Rhodes, and it's been hard for him to hold on to Texas."

"How would they know how hurt Sophie-Anne was, how hurt Stan is?" she asked.

"Spies. We all spy on each other."

"What if one of the rulers of Narayana had owed some favor to Sophie-Anne and decided to tip her off to the takeover?"

"I'm sure some of them considered it," he said, though he didn't add that it probably wouldn't have been to repay a favor – rather to have a queen in their debt. Unlike Sookie, most vampires were dark and self-serving at heart. Even himself. "But with Sophie-Anne so severely wounded," he continued, "I suppose they decided that the odds lay with Felipe."

"How do you trust anyone?" she asked, and it wasn't a rhetorical question.

"I don't. There are two exceptions: you and Pam."

He felt her pity before he saw it in her eyes. "Oh…" she murmured. "That's awful, Eric."

"Yes. It's not good." He wondered how long it would be before Sookie lost her ability to trust. In his world, it could not be long.

"Do you know who the spies in Area Five are?"

That required no thought. "Felicia, of course. She is weak, and it's not much of a secret that she must be in the pay of someone. Probably Stan in Texas or Freyda in Oklahoma."

"I don't know Freyda," Sookie said. "Is Texas in Zeus or Amun?"

He smiled broadly. He knew she was wondering why Stan would spy on him if Stan had been at the summit in Rhodes. "Zeus, but Stan had to be at the summit because he was proposing to go in with Mississippi on a resort development."

"He sure paid for that," she said grimly. "If they have spies, we have spies, too, right?"

Yes, my darling, we have spies. "Of course."

"Who? I'm not missing anyone…?"

"You met Rasul in New Orleans, I believe," he said. He knew that she had; Rasul had helped him rescue her from the Pelts.

She replied with a nod. "He survived the takeover."

"Yes, because he agreed to become a spy for Victor and therefore for Felipe. They sent him to Michigan."

"Michigan?" she repeated, looking baffled.

"There is a very large Arab enclave there, and Rasul fits in well," he explained. "He tells them he fled the takeover." He realized suddenly that not even Pam knew this. "You know, his life will be ended if you tell anyone this."

"Oh, duh," she said, rolling her eyes like a school child. He couldn't help smiling at the expression. "I'm not telling anyone any of this. For one thing, the fact that you-all named your little slices of America after gods is just…" She shook her head, returning his smile. "For another thing, I like Rasul. Why are you telling me all this all of a sudden?" she asked.

"I think you need to know what's going on around you, my lover." He admitted to her that Pam had wanted to tell her before, but that he had hesitated. "Pam reminded me that ignorance could get you killed," he said. He paused for a moment and took in her face. "I value you too much to let yours continue."

Her cheeks flushed, and she seemed lost for words. "Thanks. Um… okay… So the kings and queens of each state in a particular division get together to make decisions and bond… what, every two years?"

She sounded distracted, but her question was a good one. "Yes, unless there's some crisis that calls for an extra meeting," he said. "Each state is not a separate kingdom. For instance, there's a ruler of New York City and a ruler of the rest of the state. Florida is also divided."

"Why?" she asked, then answered her own question. "Oh, lots of tourists. Easy prey. High vampire population."

"California is in thirds," he said, listing the three kingdoms of that state. "On the other hand, North and South Dakota have become one kingdom since the population is so thin."

She nodded along. "How does the business of… well, of Amun, say… get conducted between those biennial meetings?" she asked.

"Message boards, mostly," he replied, and he didn't miss the little smile on her face at the idea of vampires conducting business in online forums. "If we have to have a face-to-face, committees of sheriffs meet, depending on the situation. If I had an argument with the vampire of another sheriff, I'd call that sheriff, and if he wasn't ready to give me satisfaction, his lieutenant would meet with my lieutenant."

"And if that didn't work?" She raised an eyebrow.

"We'd kick the dispute up the ladder to the summit. In between meeting years, there's an informal gathering with no ceremony or celebration."

"Okey dokey. Well, that was real interesting."

"You don't sound interested," he observed. "You sound irritated."

She raised her hand and made a great show of examining her fingernails. "This isn't what I expected when I found out you were sleeping in the house."

"What did you expect?" he asked. He already knew the answer from the desire he felt in her blood.

"I expected you'd come over here because you couldn't wait an extra minute to have fabulous, mind-blowing sex with me."

That had been half the reason, yes. He kept his expression serious. "I've told you things for your own good… however, now that that's done, I am as ready as ever to have sex with you," he said in a business-like way. "And I can certainly make it mind-blowing."

She smiled and pulled her lower lip between her teeth. "Then cut to the chase, honey."

He was naked and baring his fangs at her in two seconds. "Do I actually get to chase you?"

Sookie bolted from her chair, and he gave her a few seconds' head start before he raced after her. She squealed and giggled like a little girl when he caught her, at least until the happy sounds faded into even happier moans as he pinned her to the wall with his entire body and covered her mouth with his. Not breaking their kiss, he lifted her up and carried her to the bedroom, where he made quick work of her clothes.

"Anything particular in mind?" he asked as he loomed over her, running his hands down her sides to hold onto her hips and pull her close. He kissed her mouth and worked his way down her throat, moving one arm to support her as he curved her backwards.

"Just keep headin' where you're headed."

With a smile, he lowered her to rest on the bed, and he joined her, resuming his lips' path down her body. He stopped at her belly button, ignored her sound of protest, and returned to her mouth. "Touch me where you want me to kiss you," he said.

Her breath caught in her throat, and he could feel her flesh rise into goosebumps where her skin touched his. "Can I touch you wherever I want?" He was too hazy with lust to do anything more than nod. She kissed him slowly, sliding her tongue between his fangs, pressing her palm against his chest. She lay back against the pillows and rolled his nipple between her fingers, her eyes on his.

He dipped his head to her breast and kissed the nipple as if it were her mouth, caressing it with his tongue, nipping it gently with his teeth before he pulled away. Sookie laid her fingertips on his lips, and he returned to her mouth. He kissed her until he felt her hand at his elbow. Smiling, he kissed it, and Sookie laughed. Then she trailed her fingers across her collarbone. She gave a happy sigh as he placed light kisses along the same path. Again she directed him to her mouth, and she kept him there for some time. He had no complaints.

"I have an idea," she said at length. "How about you kiss me wherever you want to kiss me?"

He pressed his lips to hers briefly. "I think you know exactly where I want to put my mouth next."

Sookie blushed, but her eyes were dark. "Then do it." He did. "Oh!" she gasped. "Yes… Oh, Eric…"

When she had reached the edge and fallen over it, crying out his name the whole way, he sat back and pulled her into his lap. She draped her arms over his shoulders and lowered herself onto him slightly.

"Sookie," he said, his voice little more than a rasp.

She kissed him as she took him the rest of the way in, then pulled back to look at him before she moved. "It means a lot that you trust me," she said.

"I wouldn't have bonded with you in Rhodes if I didn't. I wouldn't have married you."

She began to move at last, bracing herself on his shoulders as she rocked against him. "Eric," she said as she brushed her lips over his. "I love you."

His release flooded through him before his brain could realize what had happened. He looked at Sookie, dumbfounded. "That," he said, still reeling, "has never happened before. I am sorry."

But she was glowing. "Don't be. That was better than any orgasm would've been."

"I don't know if I should be relieved or insulted," he replied with a grin.

"If it wounds your pride that much, you can make it up to me later."

They stretched out in the bed, he propped on his elbow with one arm beneath her head, she flat on her back, nestled close to him. He rubbed her stomach absently as they lay in silence for a little while.

"You are quiet," he observed.

"So are you." She laid her hand over his. "I feel fat when you do that… see how it's like rubbing your hand over a little hill?"

He looked down at her stomach and laughed at her silliness. "Who wants a bag of bones? I don't want to hurt myself on the sharp edges of the woman I'm bedding." He resumed the movements of his hand.

"Did women…" Sookie began. Her cheeks flushed a little. "Were women curvier when you were human?"

He gave her a wry smile. "We didn't always have choices about how fat we were. In bad years, we were all skin and bones. In good years, when we could eat, we did."

"Oh… sorry," she said.

She didn't have to apologize for her curiosity. He kissed her forehead. "This is a wonderful century to live in," he told her. "You can have food any time you want."

"If you have the money to pay for it," she said.

This he shrugged off. "Oh, you can steal it. The point is, the food is here to be had."

"Not in Africa." Her hand had moved up to his forearm, and her fingertips moved absently over his skin.

"I know people still starve in many parts of the world," he conceded. "But sooner or later, this prosperity will extend everywhere. It just got here first."

"You really think so?"

He had seen it happen. "Yes," he said. It struck him that Sookie would not live long enough to see this happen. This was a line of thought he did not want to pursue. He sat up suddenly. "Braid my hair for me, would you, Sookie?" he asked. Sookie had done that once or twice at his house, and it would be a welcome distraction.

He went to her vanity and sat on the round stool, hunching slightly so that he could see the top of his head in the small mirror. To his disappointment, Sookie would not be working naked; she had shrugged on a pretty silk robe – a gift from him, actually. She tied it loosely, so that the top fell low to reveal the delicious curves of her breasts. Perhaps the robe wasn't such a bad thing.

She brushed his hair back from his forehead, taking care with the tangles that had resulted from their love-making. She gathered all his hair in her hand and looked at him in the mirror. "Do you care if I use gel to make it neater?" she asked.

"Go ahead," he said.

He watched her in the mirror as she braided, her forehead crinkled with concentration, her fingers working quickly and neatly. He loved the slide of the silk robe over her breasts. When she was finished, she looked at him again and sighed.

"What is this sound coming from you?" He studied himself in the mirror, but nothing looked amiss. "Are you not happy with the result?"

She smiled. "I think you look great."

He reached up behind him to finger her hair, which was quite messy. And he had enjoyed getting it that way. "Now I'll do your hair," he said. He reached for the brush.

"No, thanks!" she said, her voice suddenly sharp as she recoiled from him. Her face had broken into that fake, nervous smile that he knew all too well.

He spun around on the stool. "What's making you so jumpy, Sookie?"

"Hey! What happened to Alaska and Hawaii?" Still the disturbing smile. She dropped the brush.

His eyes followed it as it hit the floor and wobbled back and forth, and he looked back up at her. "What?"

"What section are they in?" She pulled the robe more tightly around herself and crossed her arms. Her eyes looked distracted and almost wild. "They both in Nakamura?"

He frowned. "Narayana. No. Alaska is lumped in with the Canadians. They have their own system. Hawaii is autonomous." If there even werevampires left there, which he doubted.

"That's just not right," she said, shaking her head. "I guess Heidi reported back to you after she sniffed out my land? She told you about the body?"

Had she lost her mind? She was flitting from subject to subject like a hyperactive child, and her whole body seemed to vibrate with nervous energy. "We already talked about Debbie Pelt," he said slowly. "If you really want me to, I'll move her." She opened her mouth, then closed it again. "You're behaving very strangely, Sookie."

"Do you think Alcide could tell from the smell that the corpse was Debbie?"

"Not from the scene. A body is a body. It doesn't retain the distinctive scent that identified it as a particular person, especially after this long." He watched her curiously. "Are you so worried about what Alcide thinks?"

She laughed – an unpleasant, unfamiliar laugh. "Not as much as I used to be. Hey! I heard on the radio today that one of the senators from Oklahoma came out as a Were! He said he'd register with some government bureau the day they pried his fangs from his cold, dead corpse." She laughed again.

He replied with some nonsense about the government, Weres, and vampires. He tried to remember if Dr. Ludwig was available that week.

"You better get dressed," she told him.

He swung the stool around again and frowned into the mirror. "All right." Behind him, Sookie was rolling her hand, telling him to hurry.

It took him only a second to go to the kitchen, retrieve his clothes, and return with them to the bedroom. He feared what Sookie might do if she was alone even that long. He pulled on his pants and reached for his shirt only a moment before Sookie collapsed near the foot of her bed, her head in her hands.

Fuck. He knelt beside her and reached for her. "Can you tell me what's wrong?" Had she been poisoned? Had the fairy done it? Perhaps Hadley's man… what was his name?

"Someone's… coming," she managed to whisper. "I feel so strange. Someone's coming." Her eyes were wide now, her face manic. "Almost here… someone with your blood."

He felt it, then. Something – someone – he would have felt instantly if his blood and his mind weren't so full of Sookie. He jumped up and growled, for there, standing just outside Sookie's bedroom window, was his maker.

Chapter Text

Eric gritted his teeth. "Appius Livius Ocella. It's been a hundred years."

Behind him, Sookie laughed in that crazy way.

Appius gave him a thin smile. "Haven't you missed me, Eric?"

"Ocella, your presence is always an honor." Sookie laughed again, more loudly and – if it were possible – more crazily. "What is wrong with my wife?" he demanded.

"Her senses are confused," Appius said, regarding her as carelessly as he would a fly. "You have my blood. She's had your blood. And another child of mine is here. The bond between us all is scrambling her thoughts and feelings." Appius motioned to his side, and a boy joined him. "This is my new son, Alexei."

A child. Appius had plumbed new depths of depravity, then. "Brother," Eric managed to say, keeping his eyes narrowed at Appius.

He could feel Alexei reaching out to him through his blood, but the bond between himself and Sookie was so strong that the bond with his maker – and, by proxy, with Alexei – was little more than a frazzled thread. Appius had already stopped trying. Then he realized, suddenly, that he could help Sookie by cutting her off from himself, at least as much as their bond would allow. With all his strength, he pushed away the connection with her. Instantly, Appius and Alexei were inside him like dark, grasping vines, latching onto every surface, binding his will to theirs, and smothering the free and open air – the light – that had been Sookie's place in his being.

There you are, my child, Appius said, speaking through the blood. And now that you've spared her by opening yourself to me, perhaps I should command you to kill her?

"Excuse me," came Sookie's voice, sane and calm now, from the corner he had gradually backed her into since his maker's appearance.

Eric didn't look away from the vampires outside, but he stepped away to give Sookie more room. He heard her rise behind him; Appius turned from Eric to look at her, and the ancient vampire's carefully composed expression broke for a moment. Appius Livius Ocella was not accustomed to being stared down, especially not by a small human woman.

"Eric," Sookie said slowly, "you need to go to the front door and let them in. I'll bet they don't really need an invitation."

She was right, though he wondered how she knew it. Perhaps Appius' powerful blood had made her feel it. Once a vampire was welcomed into a human's home, that vampire's sire, brothers, and sisters were also allowed access.

Appius smiled. "Eric, she's rare. Where did you find her?" Does she make you scream her name the way you once did mine? I wonder if she could suck my cock as well as you did.

Eric could not speak.

"I'm asking you in out of courtesy because you're Eric's dad," Sookie snapped. "I could just leave you outside."

The Roman's serene smile did not fade. "But my child is in this house," he said, nodding in Eric's direction. "And if he is welcome, so am I, am I not?" He looked back and forth between them. "I waited to come in out of courtesy. We could have appeared in your bedroom."

A moment later, they had done just that.

Sookie looked furious, but of course, there was nothing she could do… nothing he could do. She turned her attention to the child. "Your name is Alexei?"

"Yes, this is Alexei Romanov," Appius told her.

Eric heard her sharp intake of breath. "You didn't," she said slowly. She gaped at Appius, then looked back at Alexei. "You didn't…"

"I tried to save one of his sisters, too, but she was beyond my recall."

Sookie reacted as if she knew the family, and Appius had responded to her in kind. Eric's own mind was too blurred to pinpoint the name of Romanov among all the Russians he had known.

"Sookie, what is it?" he asked her.

She leaned towards him slightly and whispered, "The Romanovs… the last Russian royal family!" Ah, yes. Nicholas and Alexandra. This Alexei must be their young son, then. The hemophiliac so fawned over by Rasputin. Sookie was speaking to Appius again. "Was Eric the first vampire you made?" she demanded.

Eric, your whore speaks to me as though we are equals. Pray that she learns her place before I lose my good humor and decide to have you silence her for me.

"Yes," Appius replied smoothly. "He was the first one I brought over successfully. The others I tried to bring over, they died."

Sookie nodded as she took this in. "Could we please leave my bedroom and go into the living room?" She motioned to the bed, which they had so enjoyed getting into its current state of disarray. "This is not the right place to receive visitors."

"Yes, I suppose," said Appius with a bland expression. "Alexei, where do you suppose the living room is?" Then Eric knew that they had been inside Sookie's house already. Alexei pointed the way, and Appius smiled. "Then that's where we'll go, dearest."

As they followed the boy into Sookie's living room, she met his eyes wordlessly, fearfully, but there was nothing he could say or do to reassure himself, much less her. Appius sat down on the sofa and patted the space beside him, which Alexei obediently took.

"Please, have a seat," Sookie told them dryly.

Appius raised one eyebrow, but he did not look angry. "So much sarcasm." He ran his eyes over Sookie's body. Is she a good fuck, Eric? Which taste makes you harder – her blood or her cunt? "Will you not offer us hospitality?" he asked. He wet his lips.

"I'm not happy with your popping up outside my bedroom window," she frowned. "You could have come to the door and knocked, like people with good manners do."

"Yes," Appius smiled, "but then I wouldn't have seen such a charming sight." This time he looked at Eric, and Eric bore his gaze without moving or speaking. He knew better than anyone in this room that Appius was a mercurial snake, apt to strike at the least and most unexpected provocation. Alexei, is not Eric beautiful? Say the word, my dear, and I will have Eric fuck you. He is quite skilled, and it has always been his way to please rather than to be pleased. Appius studied the boy's face. "He's already much better. Eric, your presence is doing him so much good."

They were interrupted by a loud knock at the back door. "Sookie, you here?" came Jason's voice. Before she could go to turn him away, he let himself in, his words growing louder as he approached the living room. "Sookie, I saw your light on when I pulled up, so I figured you were awake." He entered, took in the odd company, and cleared his throat. "Sorry to interrupt, Sook. Eric, how you doing?"

Eric stepped forward and motioned to Appius. "Jason, this is my… This is Appius Livius Ocella, my maker, and his other son, Alexei."

"Good evening, Okelly," he said, mispronouncing Appius' name. "Hey, Alexei. So you're Eric's little brother, huh?" He smiled in that way humans did when talking to children. "Are you a Viking like Eric?"

"No, I am Russian," Alexei answered.

Jason, who seemed to be getting more uncomfortable by the minute, nodded and backed away a step or two. "Well, good to meet you-all. Sookie, I came to get that little side table from up in the attic. I came by here once before to pick it up, but you were gone, and I didn't have my key with me."

"Sure, I don't need it," said Sookie with that forced smile of hers. "Go on up. I don't think it's very far inside the door."

"All right. 'Scuse me, everybody." He fairly sprinted upstairs.

Her brother, yes? They have the same eyes… the same blood. He is even more beautiful than she.

"Would you like some True Blood?" Sookie asked. She had obviously noticed Appius' hungry stare.

Appius waved his hand. "I suppose, if you won't offer yourself or your brother."

"I won't," she said, her eyes hard on his before she turned to get the drinks.

The blood that is taken rather than given always tastes wilder – richer. "I feel your anger."

She paused in the doorway, her back still to him. "I don't care." Jason stomped heavily down the stairs with the table he had come to collect. "Jason," she said quickly, "you want to come with me?"

"Sure, Sook." He followed her into the kitchen, lugging the table with him.

As they sat in silence, they heard Jason set the table down, the murmur of voices, the clink of the True Blood bottles. Then movement. The click of a door closing.

"They're going back into her bedroom," Appius observed. "Is she trying to run away from me?"

"No," said Eric.

Appius touched Alexei's cheek. "Go and see after them, dearest."

The boy obeyed, leaving Eric alone with his maker for the first time in centuries. "What brings you here, Ocella?" he asked.

"Later," the Roman said, raising his hand.

Sookie and Jason were back in the kitchen now, Alexei with them. Eric listened to the beep-beep of the buttons on the microwave. The three were talking in hushed voices.

In a flash, Eric went to the sofa and knelt before his maker. "Only tell me this: do you mean to harm her?"

"Wouldn't you rather know whether I mean to harm you?"

Eric raised his head and met Appius' eyes. "I know you would never harm me."

"Then you know the answer to your own question, my child. Rise, now. This servile position makes a mockery of my most glorious creation." Once Eric had stood and taken a seat across from the sofa, Appius said, "I am here because of Alexei. If you can help, we will leave, and you may enjoy another succession of centuries with no word from me. This woman, she is your… girlfriend?" The word sounded almost funny coming from his lips.

"She is my wife."

"Under this country's laws?"

"Under our laws."

"Truly your wife, then," Appius said with genuine surprise. "How it must gall you to listen to my blood."

"Yes, but I don't understand. Your thoughts were never so…"

"Vile? No. The boy, I think, is on the brink of insanity, and my mind falls more and more under his influence. But it soothes him to be here. My blood calms." He cocked his head in the direction of the kitchen. "Alexei, is all well with you?"

"Yes, sir," came the small voice, followed in a moment by the boy himself. He resumed his place beside Appius.

Sookie entered with a tray bearing bottles of True Blood. She laid three napkins down on the coffee table in front of the vampires, setting a bottle of blood on each. Then she sat near Eric. No longer fearing danger from Appius, Eric opened himself to her a little. He felt her anger, and he tried to temper it with caution and calm.

Sookie clasped her hands in her lap. "I'm not sure what to call you," she said to Appius, as if she were a daughter-in-law wanting to know if her husband's father wished to be called "Frank" or "Dad."

"You may call me Appius Livius, since you are Eric's wife," he said. "It took Eric a hundred years to earn the right to call me Appius rather than Master, then centuries to be able to call me Ocella."

And even now, Eric could not think of him formally as "Ocella." He would always be Appius.

"Thanks," Sookie said, her tone not entirely respectful.

Appius took a long swallow from his bottle of blood. "Eric, tell me how you are doing these days."

Everyone seemed to be accepting the illusion that this was nothing more than a common social visit. "I'm very well," he said. "Area Five is prosperous. I was the only Louisiana sheriff to survive the takeover by Felipe de Castro."

"How did that come about?" Appius asked.

"Our queen, Sophie-Anne Leclerq, was weakened from the bombing in Rhodes. I'm sure you heard of it." Appius confirmed this with a nod. "Felipe de Castro, king of Nevada, sent Victor Madden here to annex Louisiana. The queen, her retinue, and four other sheriffs were killed. I was allowed to live on the condition that I swear my fealty to de Castro."

"Has the decision served you well?"

"In that I am still here, speaking to you, yes," Eric said grimly. "De Castro is a good king, but Victor Madden has been a pain in the ass." He looked at Alexei. "How did you come to be on hand for the rescue of this young man?" "Young man," he thought, was a nice way to put it.

Appius touched Alexei's cheek briefly with one knuckle. "Though I had expected something of the sort, I had to move much faster than I had anticipated. The decision to execute them was made so swiftly… conducted at such speed. No one wanted the men to have time to think twice about it. For many of the soldiers, it was a terrible thing they were doing."

"Why did you want to save the Romanovs?" And why this one in particular? he left unasked.

"I hated the fucking Bolsheviks," Appius replied with a bark of laughter. Then his face was serious again. "And I had a tie to the boy. Rasputin had been giving him my blood for years. I happened to be in Russia already. You remember the St. Petersburg Massacre?"

He knew that Appius referred to the incident with Phryne in October of 1876, and not to what humans regarded as "Bloody Sunday" in 1905. "I do indeed," he replied with a nod. "I had not seen you in many years, and only caught a glimpse of you then." Until now, he had wondered if it had been only his imagination.

"After that night, when so many of us worked together to tidy up the scene after Gregory was subdued," Appius explained, "I developed a fondness for the Russian vampires." He looked at Sookie and Jason, neither of whom had said a word thus far. "And the Russian people, too," he said, bowing his head slightly at Sookie. His mouth twisted into a frown. "The fucking Bolsheviks killed so many of us. I was grieved. The deaths of Fedor and Velislava were particularly hard. They were both great vampires, and hundreds of years old."

Fedor and Velislava had been lovers who ruled Moscow, and eventually St. Petersburg, for centuries. A kind of symbiotic relationship had formed between them and the Romanov dynasty, with each supporting the other in times of upheaval and prosperity alike. They had invited thousands of vampires to Russia to celebrate the coronation of Peter the Great. It was Lenin himself who had discovered their resting place and staked them.

"I knew them," was all Eric said.

"I sent them a message to get out before I started to look for the royal family," Appius continued. "I could track Alexei because he'd had my blood. Rasputin knew what we were. Whenever the empress would call him to heal the boy when the hemophilia was very bad, Rasputin would beg some of my blood, and the boy would recover." Again he touched Alexei's white cheek. "I heard a rumor they were thinking of killing the royal family, and I began following the scent of my blood. When I set out to rescue them, you can imagine how like a Crusader I felt!"

Appius laughed heartily; he had hated the Crusaders, though that had never stopped him from bribing the Knights Templar to bring him treasures from the East. Eric gave a mirthless laugh of his own.

Jason, who had been looking nervous and restless for some time, set his empty Coke can on the coffee table and leaned forward. "Sook, you got the most interesting company."

"Listen," she said quickly, and her voice sounded a little desperate. "I know you want to go, but if you could stick around for a while, I'd appreciate it."

He sighed and raked one hand through his hair. "I'll just go put the table out in the truck and call Michele." Standing, he glanced at the silent Tsesarevich of Russia. "Alexei, you want to come with me?"

Appius looked uncertain for some moments, but finally nodded his consent. "Alexei, remember your company manners."

Eric didn't think it at all wise to let Jason venture outside alone with Alexei, but he said nothing to contradict his maker. If the welcome absence of the Roman's violent and perverse thoughts was any indication, Alexei was indeed calmer and more stable than he had been when they arrived. Even so, Eric's worry over the situation as a whole was too strong to block from Sookie.

Silence fell over the living room. A few minutes ticked by slowly.

Sookie cleared her throat. "Excuse me, Appius Livius. Since you were in the right empire at the right time, I wonder if you ever saw Jesus."

Eric held back a smile. Wondering if Appius had met Jesus of Nazareth because he was "in the right empire" – that empire being the great expanse of Rome – was akin to wondering if two random Americans, one from New York and one from Kansas, had met.

Distracted, Appius replied, "The carpenter? No, I didn't see him. The Jew died right around the time I was changed." And Eric knew that Appius had never even been to Palestine, though he didn't say as much to Sookie. "As you will appreciate," he went on, "I had many other things to think of. In fact, I didn't hear the whole myth until sometime later, when the world began to change as a result of his death."

Sookie had no response to that, so Eric prodded Appius to continue his story about rescuing Alexei.

"I found that miserable house in Ekaterinburg easily enough, and I moved so fast, of course, that none of the soldiers saw me. Nicholas, Alexandra, and their eldest daughter had died quickly with bullets to the head, but the three youngest daughters, they suffered greatly. The jewels sewn into their corsets deflected the bullets, and they were killed by bayonets. The murderers were disorganized, so much so that the whole operation was a farce. When they opened the doors to clear the smoke, I slipped in, gave the boy enough of my blood to heal him and sustain him, and disappeared again to observe from outside." Appius paused for a moment to look away and listen for Jason and Alexei, then he returned to his story. "They threw the bodies down a well, then, realizing their idiocy, brought them back up to bury. You see, they knew that the horror of the murders would galvanize their enemies. I followed them the minute the sun set the next day. They'd stopped to rebury them – Alexei and one of his sisters."

As he spoke, Alexei had returned to the room and approached from behind the sofa. "Maria," the boy said. "It was Maria."

Eric glanced at Sookie, whose eyes were shining with tears.

"Yes, of course, dear boy," Appius said gently. "Your sister Maria was completely gone, but there was a tiny spark in you." Appius patted the boy's hand, which lay on his broad shoulder. "They had shot him many times. Twice in the head. I put my blood directly in the bullet holes. My blood worked well, since you had lost so much of yours." He smiled.

Alexei looked paler than ever, if that were possible.

"Where's your brother?" Appius asked Sookie.

She had just stood up when Jason strode in, looking sheepish. "Sorry. Talking to Michele," he told her.

Sookie sat again. "Hmmm," was her only response. Then she turned to Appius. "I hate to change the subject, but there are a few things I need to know."

Eric met her gaze directly, trying to convey caution with his eyes as well as his blood. "What, Sookie?"

She smiled her too-broad uncomfortable smile. "I just have a couple of questions. Have you been in this area for any length of time?" she asked his maker.

Eric actually wanted to know that himself.

"No, we have not," said Appius. He crossed one leg elegantly over the other. "We've come here from the southwest – from Oklahoma – and we have only just arrived in Louisiana."

"So you wouldn't know anything about the new body buried at the back of my land?" she asked, one eyebrow raised.

New body? She hadn't said anything to him about a new body… had she?

"No, nothing." Appius smiled as if he wished he did have something to do with a body in her backyard. "Would you like us to go dig it up? Unpleasant, but doable. You are wanting to see who it is?"

By this time, Sookie had noticed his baffled expression. "I'm sorry, honey. I was trying to tell you when our unexpected guests showed up."

Appius was looking back and forth between them, perhaps unaccustomed to being forgotten in a conversation.

Eric remembered that she had asked if Heidi had mentioned a body. He had assumed she meant Debbie Pelt. "Not Debbie…?"

"No. Heidi says there's a new burial. But we do need to know who it is, and we need to find out who put it there."

"The Weres," he said, feeling sure of it. "This is the thanks you get for letting them use your land. I'll call Alcide, and we'll have a meeting." Anything to delay being alone with Appius and Alexei, which he knew must happen eventually. He flipped open his phone and scrolled through his contacts to Alcide Herveaux. The Were answered on the first ring.

"Eric?" Alcide answered, not bothering with a hello.

"Eric," he confirmed. "Alcide, we have to talk."

Alcide gave a heavy sigh. "Not now, Eric. I'm on my way home from a fucked-up meeting in Monroe. We're trying to get organized to fight this government thing, and-"

"That's not good, Alcide," he interrupted, "and I am sorry to hear you have troubles. But I have other concerns. What did you do on Sookie's land?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"You should come here and see, then," Eric replied impatiently. "I think some of your people have been bad."

"Fine. I'm right around the Bon Temps exit."

"Very well, then. I'll see you in ten minutes. I am at her house."

Without waiting for an answer, he hung up, as he usually did. Appius, meanwhile, still looked bemused, and Alexei had not moved from his position behind the Roman.

"Alcide was in Bon Temps?" Sookie asked, looking surprised.

"No, but he was on the interstate and nearly at our exit." He slid his phone back into his pocket. "He's returning from some meeting in Monroe. The Louisiana packs are trying to present a united front to the government. Since they've never organized before, this is not going to work." He smirked. "The Weres are always… What did you say the other day about FEMA, Sookie? 'A day late and a dollar short,' right?" He loved her expressions. "At least he's close, and when he gets here, we'll get to the bottom of this."

"Anybody want more True Blood?" she asked.

None of them did. Alexei had taken only one or two sips from his blood, which by this time would be room temperature and more disgusting than usual.

Appius looked around the room curiously. Jason yawned. Eric heard the skitter of a squirrel outside.

"I'm afraid I have only one spot that's suitable for a vampire," Sookie said. "Where are you-all planning to sleep, come the dawn? I just want to know in case I need to call around and find a place."

Eric regarded her profile, touched that she would seek lodging for a person she must find distasteful, if not absolutely repugnant. If there was one thing Sookie's "gran" had taught her, it was Southern hospitality.

He laid his hand over hers. "Sookie, I will take Ocella and his son back to my house. They can have the guest coffins there."

He wasn't happy about it. Before the arrival of his maker, he had been looking forward to a night spent in contentment, with Sookie's warm body held against his.

"I think your darling would love to come in during the day and sink a stake into our chests," Appius said to Eric lightly – but he was not smiling. "If you think you can do it, young woman, you are welcome to try."

"Oh, not at all. I wouldn't dream of doing such a thing to Eric's dad," she replied with cutting sarcasm.

Silence your bitch, or I will do it for you.

The wall of rage from Appius took Eric off guard, and he jerked. He turned to Sookie and said in a tone he had never used with her before, "Be polite." As if she were his to command, as if she were his slave.

He saw the fury in her eyes, but she bit her tongue.

Then the doorbell rang.

Chapter Text

Eric and Appius stood, the latter drawing Alexei closer to his side, as Sookie went to answer the door. Alcide had not come alone. A were-bitch stood on either side of him, and neither of them had dressed to dig up a body this evening.

"Fucking Weres," Appius muttered.

After Sookie had greeted the new arrivals, she motioned for them to come in, and they filed into the living room.

"What is this problem Eric called me about?" Alcide asked, his eyes narrowing as he saw Appius and Alexei.

Eric opened his mouth to answer, but it seemed the Southern humans had some politeness to get out of the way before they could move on to business.

Jason shook Alcide's hand. "Alcide, good to see you. Ladies," he said, grinning at them broadly, "looking mighty fine tonight." He winked at the one on Alcide's left.

"Hi, you-all!" Sookie said. Perhaps she thought she should greet them again on the vampires' behalf, since they certainly had no intention of extending the courtesy. Her voice was too cheerful – brittle. "It was so nice of you to come at such short notice. Eric, you know Alcide." She gestured to Appius. "Alcide, this is Eric's longtime friend, Appius Livius Ocella, who's in town visiting with his… uh… protégé, Alexei." Eric's mouth curved into a brief, grim smile. "Eric, I don't know if you've met Alcide's friend, Annabelle, a new pack member, and Jannalynn, who's been in the Long Tooth pack for ages." Jannalynn he knew of; Annabelle he didn't. He didn't give a shit about either of them. "Jannalynn," Sookie continued, "we've never had a chance to talk much, but of course, Sam talks about you all the time. And I think you all know my brother, Jason."

We could kill them so quickly and easily, Appius was thinking. Alexei could kill them single-handedly.

"Won't y'all sit down?" Sookie asked with a sweep of her arm. "Anybody want a drink?"

No one took her up on either invitation. The Weres seemed as impatient as the vampires to get this over with.

"Alcide," Eric said, stepping forward, "one of my trackers went over Sookie's land after Basim al Saud warned her about the strangers he smelled in her woods. Our tracker has found a new body buried there."

"We didn't kill anyone that night," Alcide replied firmly, and Eric could tell that he meant it. "Basim said he told Sookie we smelled an old body, and a fairy or two, and a vampire. But he didn't mention a fresh body."

"Yet there's a new burial there now." Alcide may not know about it, but any of the other Weres could have done it.

"Which we had nothing to do with," the packleader insisted. "We were there three nights before your tracker smelled the scent of a fresh body."

"It seems quite a huge coincidence, doesn't it? A body on Sookie's land right after your pack is there?"

Alcide smirked. "Maybe it's more of a coincidence that there was already a body on Sookie's land."

It was a valid point, but Eric did not acknowledge it. He and the Weres stared each other down for a few seconds.

It was Sookie's brother who suggested the most pragmatic next step. "I say we should go see who it is."

Eric and Alcide nodded at each other in agreement, and the vampires waited while the Weres changed into more suitable clothes. Once shovels and a light had also been distributed, the group set out for the woods. Sookie pointed them east according to Heidi's directions. The seven supernatural creatures had no problems navigating the woods in the dark, but Sookie kept stumbling and snagging herself on branches and thorns, occasionally muttering "Ouch" under her breath.

Finally, Eric gave his shovel to Jason and helped Sookie onto his back. He remembered carrying her like this once before, when his memory had been lost. Their evening in both instances had taken a fucked-up turn. At least he could enjoy this much contact with her before he had to leave with Appius and Alexei. Even with his long hair, he could feel the damp heat of her breath on his neck.

Jannalynn, who had taken the lead from the outset, held out one arm to stop them. "I smell it," she said, lifting her nose to the air. Then she jogged further on and shouted, "Here it is!"

Eric and Sookie were the last to join the small semi-circle around the shallow grave. The stench was repulsive. Eric released Sookie's knees and leaned back slightly as she hopped to the ground. She moved to his side, staying close. "It's not…?"

He looked down at her and shook his head. "No. Too recent."

Alcide held up his shovel. "Only one way to find out who it is." He pushed the shovel into the dirt, and Jason, who now had Eric's shovel, handed the light to Sookie and started digging as well.

Eric noticed that Alexei had left Appius to stand on Sookie's other side. Sookie wrapped her free arm around the boy's shoulders as they stared down at the deepening hole. Lethal as Alexei no doubt was, still Sookie saw him as a child first, a vampire second.

What a nice little family. If she stays with you, she will never have a child.

Eric turned to Appius, whose face was wearing a cruel expression.

When the smell finally pierced Sookie's human senses, she gasped, and her hand flew from Alexei's small shoulder to her nose.

Alcide and Jason evidently saw the body or felt it beneath their shovels, for they both laid the tools aside and hunched over the hole.

"He's wrapped up," Jason said.

Alcide, who had pulled on thick work gloves, reached down and worked at whatever covering had been used. "I think I got it pulled apart," he said, straightening. He raised his arm to wipe his forehead on his sleeve.

Jason extended his arm. "Pass me the lantern, Sookie." He held the light over the hole, and he and Alcide squinted down. Eric immediately saw recognition dawn on Alcide's face. "I don't know this man," Jason said.

Alcide turned away. "I do."

The female Weres rushed to look in, and even Sookie approached to see. She looked back at Eric, her face grim. The Weres howled. Accomplishing what, Eric did not know.

Sookie returned to Eric as the Weres continued their ugly noise. Appius had come closer as well, looking vaguely curious. "It's the Long Tooth enforcer," Sookie explained quietly. She pressed the back of her hand to her mouth and gagged. When she had regained her composure, she said, "It's Basim al Saud."

After what seemed an eternity, Alcide and his bitches stopped their howling. Jannalynn kicked a clod of dirt away from the hole. "Shit!" she shouted, her voice swallowed by the trees.

"I only met him the once," Sookie said. "Of course, he was fine when he got in the truck with Alcide and Annabelle."

Alcide stepped back from the makeshift grave and faced Sookie and Eric. "He told me what he'd smelled on the property, and I told him to tell Sookie. She had a right to know." He turned to the newer member of his pack. "We didn't talk about anything in particular on the way back to Shreveport, did we, Annabelle?"

"No," Annabelle murmured. She had been the first to look away from the body, but she had stayed by the hole. Now she, too, moved away. Her eyes were red from weeping.

"I dropped him off at his apartment," Alcide went on. "When I called him the next day to go with me to a meeting with our representative, he said he had to pass because he had to work. He was a website designer, and he had a meeting with an important client. I wasn't too happy he couldn't go, but of course, the guy had to make a living."

Annabelle sniffled. "He didn't have to work that day." She lowered her head. "I was at his apartment when you called… I had been there a few hours." Alcide growled at her, and her voice broke as she continued. "I know… And we'll talk about it later. I'll take my punishment, which I deserve. But Basim's death is more important than my bad judgment. This is my duty, to tell you what happened." She took a deep breath, bringing her voice back under control. "Basim got a phone call before yours, and he didn't want me to hear it. But I heard enough to understand his conversation was with someone who was paying him." Alcide and Jannalynn looked even angrier, if that were possible. "So Basim made up an excuse to get me out of the apartment, and he took off. I tried to follow him, but I lost him." At last, she was silent.

Jannalynn looked like a cobra now, and she even hissed like one. "You were suspicious, but you didn't call the packmaster. You didn't call me. You didn't call anyone." Alcide placed a hand on her arm, but she pushed it away. "We took you in and made you a member of our pack, and you betrayed us." At that, she struck, and Annabelle stumbled backwards and fell to her knees, moaning.

Eric felt Sookie hit him in the arm. When he looked down at her, she nodded toward her brother, who had come out of the pit and was now holding on to Alexei with all his strength. The young vampire was clearly in the grip of madness. In a flash, Eric went to help. Though he was no longer needed, Jason kept his hold on the boy as well.

Touching Alexei, Eric immediately understood the malevolent influence of the boy on Appius. His mind, quite independent of what he actually thought and believed, was plunged into a violent bloodlust. He didn't know what he might have done if Appius had not made his way to them and taken Alexei into his arms.

"Shhhh," Appius said, holding Alexei's head to his chest and stroking the boy's hair with his fingers. "My son, be still."

Eric stepped back and tried to compose himself. He glanced at Sookie, whom he had wanted to tear apart and drain only moments before. It was a mercy that she would never know.

"Jannalynn, you are my new second," Alcide said. The Weres, then, would be wise and say nothing about Alexei. "Annabelle, get up. This is pack business now, and we'll settle it at a pack meeting."

Alcide and Jannalynn turned in unison to leave the grave site. No one helped Annabelle to her feet, and she remained crumpled on the ground.

"Excuse me!" Sookie called. Alcide stopped and turned back, though Jannalynn kept walking. "There's the little matter of the body being buried on my land. I think there's something pretty damn significant about that!"

Jannalynn, far ahead now, finally stopped. Alcide sighed heavily.

"Yes," Eric said. He had pushed the incident with Alexei aside for now, and his voice, to his relief, was firm and commanding. "Alcide, I believe Sookie and I need to sit in on your pack meeting."

Before Alcide could reply, Jannalynn's ill-tempered voice interrupted him. She had stomped her way back to his side. "Only pack members. No oneys." She narrowed her eyes at Sookie, then at Eric. "No deaders."

Eric ignored her and kept his eyes on Alcide. "Alcide?"

"Sookie can bring Jason, since he's two-natured," Alcide said after a moment. "She's a oney, but she's a friend of the pack. No vamps." He looked almost apologetic. Almost.

"Jason, will you accompany your sister?" Eric asked him.

Jason shrugged one shoulder. "Sure."

Once again the Weres started to leave, and once again Sookie stopped them. "What are you going to do with the body?"

"Do you want us to cover him back up or what?" Alcide said.

Annabelle, who had finally gotten to her feet, pressed her fingertips to her bleeding lip and winced.

"Someone will come get him tonight, so there'll be activity in your woods," Jannalynn said. "Don't be alarmed." She and Alcide disappeared into the darkness of the trees, followed quickly by Annabelle, who obviously knew that it wasn't the best idea to have an open wound around vampires.

"Should we cover him back up?" Jason asked.

Sookie held up the light and looked down at the pit. "If they're sending a crew to get him, that seems like wasted effort." Her eyes found Eric's. "Eric, I'm so glad you sent Heidi. Otherwise…" Her voice trailed off for a moment. "Listen, if he was buried on my land, it was so he could be found here, right? So there's no telling when someone's going to get a tip to come looking for him."

Eric wasn't so sure; there were numerous other reasons why Basim might have met his end here. Two of those reasons were Appius and Alexei.

"Okay, we got to get him out of here," said Jason.

"We've got to put him somewhere," Sookie fretted, waving her hands around. "We could just set him in the cemetery."

Jason shook his head. "Naw. Too close."

"What about the pond behind your house?"

"Naw, damn it! The fish!" Jason looked absolutely horrified. "I couldn't ever eat those fish again!"

"Arghhhh!" Sookie growled.

"Is your time with her usually like this?" Appius asked, and Eric glanced over to see him smiling with genuine amusement.

Eric felt strangely defensive of her. Her instinct to move the body was a good one, and she wouldn't get much help from her dim-witted brother. "Sookie, it won't be pleasant, but I think I can fly carrying him, if you can suggest a good place to put him."

She closed her eyes, thinking. She even hit her temple with the flat of her palm. It was then that Eric realized he had taken shelter in their blood bond again after the disturbing incident with Alexei, and Sookie was feeling disoriented, as she had earlier. He quickly closed himself off from her as much as possible, and he could almost see her usual composure returning to her features.

"Sure, Eric," she said. Her voice was calm, her eyes lucid. "Put him in the woods right across the road from my driveway. There's a little bit of a driveway left there, but no house. The Weres can use the driveway as a marker when they come to retrieve him… 'cause someone's coming to find him, and coming soon."

Eric gave her a single nod and jumped into the grave with the body. He pulled the filthy cloth back over the exposed part of the dead Were's upper body, heaved it up into his arms, and flew up. He knew the spot that Sookie had suggested; it was where Debbie Pelt had parked on the night they killed her. He flung the reeking corpse into the woods just to the side of the overgrown drive, then made for Sookie's house.

He hesitated for a moment, unsure if he should leave Sookie and Jason alone with Appius and Alexei, but he knew that Appius would not hurt them. And Alexei was under Appius' command. If something did go wrong, he would feel it immediately. The lingering scent of decomposing Were was something he simply could not abide.

He pulled off his shirt as he entered the house and went to the kitchen. After making quick work of his other clothes and tossing them into the garbage can, he went to Sookie's bedroom and retrieved his extra set of clothes from her dresser. Once in the shower, he set the water temperature as hot as he could, and it steamed up around his cold body in seconds. Sookie had a variety of soaps and body washes. He reached down and picked one at random. Soap was soap.

Sookie and the others had returned by the time he emerged clean and dressed, his wet hair pulled back in a ponytail. Jason was gone, which did not please Eric. He hadn't expected her to be left entirely alone with the two vampires. But nothing was amiss. Appius and Alexei were quietly drinking True Blood. Sookie sat across from them. She had a smear of dirt on one cheek, and Eric felt suddenly guilty that he might have used all of her hot water. He hoped not.

You are just in time, Eric. I was about to snap her neck and sample her carotid.

Appius drained what was left in his bottle of blood and set it down on the coffee table. "Sookie, thank you for the hospitality," he said placidly. "Come, Eric, Alexei. We have trespassed on Sookie's good will long enough."

To Eric's surprise – and to Appius', if the Roman's expression was any indication – Alexei stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Sookie's waist. Her eyes shone as she returned the embrace.

Following his maker and new brother out the front door, Eric turned to give Sookie what he hoped was a meaningful look. If he had his way, she would never see Appius or Alexei again. Appius lifted Alexei into his arms, and then he and Eric took to the sky.

Chapter Text

Eric turned the deadbolt of his front door into place as Appius and Alexei wandered a few steps forward and took in their surroundings.

"I have four bedrooms, all equipped to be light-tight," he told them. He walked past them and motioned for them to follow him. He slid his arm into one room and flipped on the light. "This is the first guest room. I hope it will serve your needs, Ocella."

"Of course. And there is no need for Alexei to have a separate room. He will stay with me."

Eric's jaw tightened, but he didn't argue. Based on what they had seen in the woods, perhaps it was for the best that Alexei would not be left alone. His phone buzzed to indicate a text message, and he opened it. The message was from Pam. Sookie told me. Take care. He closed the phone and put it away without replying. There was no need.

"Will you require anything else?" he asked.

"Your company," Appius said. He placed his hand on the boy's head. "Go to bed, my dear. Dawn is not far off, and I desire to speak with Eric in private."

Alexei nodded and walked quietly into the room, then Appius reached for the knob and pulled the door closed. Eric was about to lead Appius to his office when Alexei reopened the door.

"Must I, sir?" he asked. "Must I go to sleep with nothing to eat?"

Though Eric expected Appius to be furious at this questioning of his will, the Roman looked tired. "Eric's wife gave you blood to drink, and you declined it." He turned to Eric. "You have blood here?"

"I do."

Appius nodded and looked back at Alexei. "When I return to join you for our day's rest, I will bring you a bottle."

The boy's face fell. "Is there no real blood to be had?"

"Alexei, enough," Appius said, his voice sharp now. "Go to bed."

The small vampire closed the door softly, and Appius sighed.

"This way," Eric said, leading his maker to the office. "Ocella, you must know how troubled I am by your sudden appearance," he said carefully as they sat opposite each other. "And by this new brother of mine. He unnerves me."

"Such a strong jaw you have, Eric. Such a beautiful body. I have missed you." Appius smiled, his moving gaze frank and appreciative. "If I ask you to fuck me, will you do it?"

"Sookie would be very unhappy with me."

"That isn't what I asked."

He swallowed his fear and disgust with all the ease of centuries of practice. "Of course, Ocella. Obeying you is my duty and my pleasure."

"Let me tell you why I am here, Eric," Appius said, suddenly businesslike, as if the preceding interlude had been a test or a passing whim. It very well could have been both. "It does partly concern Alexei, as I told you earlier. But there is a larger reason."

Eric nodded grimly. "I knew there must be."

"Victor Madden asked me to come here." Appius leaned back and rested his elbows on the wide arms of his chair, clasping his fingers in front of his chest. "I can tell by your face that this comes as no surprise."

"Asked you or paid you?"

"What a vulgar question." Appius smiled and allowed the "vulgar question" to hang between them unanswered. "Victor requested that I sever your tie with Sookie Stackhouse. The manner in which I do so was left… unspecified. I have several options, therefore. First, of course, I could kill the woman." Eric flinched, a small movement that belied the real impact of what Appius was saying. He bit his tongue and tasted blood. "I will not do that. Besides the fact that it would anger her powerful kin – oh, yes, I know – it would hurt you. I have no wish to do that."

"Perhaps," Eric said slowly, "you could just tell me what you have decided."

"No. I want you to appreciate fully the actions I have chosen not to take." Eric gave one nod in silent acceptance, and Appius continued. "Second, I could command you to give her up. How easy that option would be. A few words." He fingered a thin chain that hung around his neck and disappeared into his shirt. "But I suspect that this approach would pain you more than if I killed her. Third, and this one, I confess, gave me some pause, I could dissolve your bond with her by draining your blood successively over a few nights and replacing it with my own. But what, I asked myself, would prevent you from simply bonding with her again? That left me with only one remaining option."

"Yes?" Eric managed to say when it became evident that Appius was waiting for a response.

"My remaining option, Eric, is to leave you alone and turn down Victor's handsome reward."

Eric remained unmoved. Nothing with Appius was this simple or this merciful. "And what would be expected of me?"

"You are so calculating, my paragon of a creation. So cynical. Victor Madden is a flea with no influence over me whatsoever. I am wealthy beyond even your imagining. Is it so unbelievable that I would do this because I want to, expecting nothing in return?"

Yes, Eric thought, but he didn't reply.

Appius gave a short laugh. "Very well, Viking. What I expect in return is your good will to help me. Do me this favor, and I will leave you and your pet - "

"My wife."

"Do me this favor, and I will leave you and your wife in peace. The favor will cost you nothing. I need help." Eric had rarely seen desperation or grief on his maker's face, but now he saw both. "The child… Alexei… you have seen what condition he is in. What I told you earlier about coming for your help with him, you see, was true."

They were interrupted by a loud thump. After one fleeting look at each other, they were at the first guest bedroom in a flash. Eric flung the door open to reveal Alexei curled up on the floor, his mouth on his wrist. Blood pooled slowly on the polished hardwood as Alexei raised his head, his grinning mouth smeared red.

Chapter Text

Eric turned his phone over and over in his hand, flipped it open, and let his thumb hover over the number that would speed-dial Sookie.

"Are you calling that nice woman?" Alexei asked, appearing at Eric's side. He looked better tonight; the True Blood and day's rest must have done him good. "Are we going to see her again? I would like that very much."

"I was texting my friend, Bill," Eric said lightly. He returned the phone to his pocket. "Where is our maker?"

"Almost ready." Alexei reached for Eric's hand and held it. Even to Eric, the boy's skin felt icy. "I always wanted a brother," he said. "Did you have brothers?"

"I was the eldest of several brothers. The youngest – the last time I saw him – was a little younger than you."

"I am about a century old."

Eric smiled a little. "So you are."

"Ah, this is what I like to see." Appius stood in the doorway, his arms spread wide. Alexei released Eric's hand and went to Appius, who tousled the boy's hair with his fingers. "What do you have planned for us, Eric?"

Eric suggested that they spend the evening at Fangtasia, as he had work to do, and it would give them an opportunity to associate with local vampires. Appius had no objection to the idea; in fact, he seemed curious and interested to see the place. Deciding it was safer than flying again with the unstable Alexei, Eric drove the three of them in his car. The bar was busy when they arrived, which did much for Eric's personal satisfaction and little for his apprehension.

When the three of them entered, Eric scanned the room for Pam and found her immediately. They locked eyes, and her face froze in a somewhat amusing expression of mixed surprise and horror. Ever poised, she recovered quickly and forced a smile - Eric could always tell - as he led the visitors in her direction.

"Pam, allow me to present my maker, Appius Livius Ocella," he said, "and his child, Alexei Romanov. Ocella, Alexei, my child and business associate, Pam Ravenscroft."

Ocella stepped forward and claimed Pam's hand, raising it to his lips. "A pleasure and an honor, Miss Ravenscroft. You may call me Appius Livius."

"I am your..." Alexei looked thoughtful for a moment, then smiled a little. "I am your uncle."

Appius laid his hand on the boy's head. "We have no use for these human distinctions, my dear." He looked up at Pam again. "Are you to entertain us this evening while Eric works?"

"I believe you will find our clientele much more entertaining than I could ever be," Pam said smoothly. "Shall I get you each a blood?"

Eric watched as Pam led them to a table. Appius and Alexei seemed content, and Pam was proving herself, as always, to be more than capable. Satisfied, he went to his office, though he kept the door open. As he waited for his new e-mails to load, he considered calling Sookie, and again he deemed it unwise. He had messages from other vampires in the area, a digest from a mailing list for sheriffs, and – drawing his immediate curiosity – a message from the Queen of Oklahoma.

Eric, it read, I hope and trust that you have been well since we last met in Rhodes. By now, I'm sure, your maker has arrived and spoken to you about our arrangement. If you would like to visit me before the marriage, which I do encourage, please -

Numbly, he scanned the rest of the e-mail. He read it again and again until the words swam and danced on the screen, no longer making sense. After several silent minutes, he pushed himself up from his chair and walked to the doorway of his office. Appius had already sensed him, and his eyes were waiting to meet Eric's. Eric watched as he murmured something to Alexei, patted the boy's hand, and left their booth to join Eric.

"Something troubles you?" the Roman asked.

Without a word, Eric stood aside and waited for Appius to come in. He shut the door. "You told me that Victor had asked you to come." He kept his words measured, his tone even.

"And so he did. May I?" Appius motioned to the couch and sat down without waiting for a response. "When I tell you that I love you, Eric, do you believe me?"

"Should I believe you?"

"Sit down, my child." When Eric didn't move, Appius' eyes hardened slightly. "Sit," he said, and it was a command which Eric could not disobey. Appius reached over and grazed Eric's cheek with the backs of his fingers. "What have you heard?" he asked. "What troubles you?"

"An e-mail," Eric said. "You have arranged…" He paused, regaining control of his voice, his anger, his very real fear. "You have given me to Freyda?"

Appius closed his eyes briefly and hissed curses in more than one language. "I asked her to wait until I had spoken to you myself."

"Until you had used me, you mean. Until I had helped you with that… that abomination you brought with you."

He felt the sharp slap, though he never actually saw the swift motion of his maker's hand. Appius bared his fangs.

"Yes, I need your help, you ungrateful fool. But I am here to help you far more than you can help me." Appius blinked, and blood pooled in his eyes – an unnerving sight. "The boy is a lost cause. Don't you think I see that?" Taken aback, Eric said nothing, waiting for Appius to continue. "Don't you think I know that I will have to send him to the final death?" The Roman straightened his back and composed his features. "Just as I will have to give up one I love, so will you. For your own good. I have made it possible. I have made it easy."

"I already have a wife."

Appius smiled, though it wasn't a cruel smile. "Eric, let me remind you of some facts. First, Victor Madden wants you dead, and he wants it sooner rather than later. Second, your bond and marriage with this human woman makes you weak. You cannot deny this. Third, this marriage I have arranged with Oklahoma will accomplish more than one purpose. It will not only separate you from the human but give you a powerful ally. In every respect, you see, I have acted with nothing but the deepest concern for your well-being – and your happiness, though you may not see that now."

Eric turned away and stared blankly across the room. The marriage between himself and Sookie was the only thing that stood between Victor Madden's acquiring her and controlling her for as long as he wished. His own feelings aside, he could not – would not – allow that to happen.

"I will not marry Freyda," he said.

"Stand, Eric," Appius said. Eric obeyed the command. He couldn't not obey. "You see, my prize? You will do as I say. And you will marry Freyda."

Eric knelt before Appius as he had done the night before. "Is there nothing I can do?" He forced himself to smile up at his maker as he cupped him through his pants. "Nothing at all?"

"If I wanted that from you, Eric, I would command it as easily as I commanded you to stand. You degrade yourself."

"For her, I will do anything."

"That is why I must separate you."

The office door flew open, and Erin turned quickly to see Pam. She spared a second to take in the scene before her, with Eric kneeling before Appius, before saying, "Alexei's escaped."

Chapter Text

Appius leapt up from the sofa and rushed into the main area of the bar, Eric and Pam following close behind. "We must track him with all haste," he said after he had scanned the bar and the parking lot.

"Can you not call him back to you?" Eric asked.

Appius glanced at Pam, seemed to decide that she was trustworthy, and looked back at Eric. "I cannot," he said. "He doesn't respond to my call."

"But-"

"He has to obey when he is near me," Appius explained. "But if he gets away, there is nothing I can do to control him."

After instructing Pam to stay at Fangtasia in case Alexei returned, Eric and Appius rushed through the streets in a blur of motion. They could feel Alexei fairly strongly, meaning he had not gone far. It took them no more than ten minutes to reach him in Columbia Park, but that did nothing to help the young man who lay bruised and pale on the ground. Alexei was swinging, his mouth still bloody.

"Come here," Appius said, and Alexei obediently dragged his feet on the ground until the swing stopped. He stood up and walked to Appius, head bowed. "Why did you leave?"

"I wanted to find her again," Alexei said softly. "Eric's wife. I could feel her blood, and I remembered how nice she was and how good she smelled, and I wanted to find her."

Eric ground his teeth but remained silent.

"And this man?" Appius pressed, motioning to the body.

"I was hungry."

"Is this how you show your devotion to your brother, Alexei? You kill a human in the area he manages? What if he were blamed for this?"

Forget the fucking human, Eric thought furiously. What about stalking Sookie?

Alexei turned to Eric, though he kept his eyes on the ground. "Please forgive me," he said.

Forgiveness would accomplish nothing. They had a body to deal with.

When Sookie called some nights later, Alexei had killed again, having crept from Eric's house close to sunrise that morning. They were so occupied with the boy that the matter of the arranged marriage had not come up again. They had not spoken of it, but it was always on Eric's mind.

He saw Sookie's number on the caller ID and answered the phone in spite of his better judgment. He knew he should keep her far away from all this, completely out of sight until Appius and Alexei were gone. But his need for her outweighed his wisdom.

"Sookie," he said. His eyes darted out to the bar, but his two guests were speaking to Felicia. Normally, she would be too busy attending tables to allow for a chat, but Fangtasia's clientele had dwindled since Appius and Alexei's first visit. Either the customers had felt something wrong and spread the word, or the humans suspected that the deaths reported in the newspaper weren't truly gang-related. Whatever the reason, Eric found himself relieved.

"The pack meeting has been set," Sookie said, her voice high and anxious.

"Sookie," he repeated. Before he could stop himself, he said, "Can you come here?"

There was a brief pause, and then she said, "I'm on my way."

Eric molded his features into what he hoped was a cheerful expression and joined Appius and Alexei at their table. Felicia seemed more than happy to leave them.

"Sookie has asked to see Alexei again," he said. He reminded himself to smile. "She will be here soon." A smile – a real one – lit the boy's face. "I think she's going to pretend that she came to see me, but I can tell when I'm not the main attraction." A wink, a light laugh. Easily acted.

Easily acted, but perhaps not successfully acted. Appius looked skeptical.

When she arrived, the flood of happiness in his blood was difficult to suppress, even as he sensed her tension and anger.

"Good evening," she said, giving each of them a nod. "Eric, you wanted to see me?"

He made room for her on their side of the booth as she slid in beside him. The warm contact with her body was something he normally found arousing; tonight he found it comforting.

"A pleasure to see you again, Sookie," Appius said. Eric hoped that his own smiles hadn't looked as forced as Appius' did now.

Alexei leaned forward eagerly. "Hello, Sookie."

Under the table, Eric caressed the back of her hand briefly with one finger. "I've missed you," he murmured. For a moment, he allowed himself to forget Appius, Alexei, Victor, and Oklahoma. But moments were all he could afford.

"As I was trying to tell you over the phone," Sookie said briskly, turning to look at him, "the pack meeting about Basim has been set for Monday night."

Fucking Weres. "Where and when?"

"At Alcide's house, the one that used to be his dad's. At 8:00."

The Herveaux house was near Eric's home, so this, at least, was good news. "And Jason's going with you, without a doubt?" he asked.

"I haven't talked to him yet, but I left him a message." She put a strange emphasis on the word "message" and turned away from him.

"You've been angry with me," he said.

Her gaze returned to his, and her face softened. "I've been worried about you."

"Yes," he said absently. He couldn't tell her there was nothing to worry about. That was a dangerous lie. Nor could he see any purpose in saying, "For good reason!"

Alexei had been watching Sookie as if she were one of the Fabergé eggs so loved by his human family – something beautiful and fascinating. Something he wanted to open and look inside. "Eric is an excellent host," he told her.

"That's good to hear, Alexei," she replied, smiling at him. "What have you two been doing? I don't think you've ever been to Shreveport before."

"No, we hadn't been here to visit." Appius laid a hand over one of Alexei's. "It's a nice little city. My older son has been doing his best to keep us busy and out of trouble."

"The World Market is fun," she said. "You can get stuff from all over the world there. And Shreveport was the capital of the Confederacy for a while. If you go to the Municipal Auditorium, you can see Elvis's dressing room!"

Her suggestions were so human and so utterly in vain, considering her present audience. Yet they only increased his affection for her.

Alexei, apparently encouraged by her enthusiasm, responded happily, "I had a very good teenager last night."

"Alexei, you have to watch it," Sookie said slowly after a surprised silence. "That's against the law here. Your maker and Eric could both suffer for it."

Eric knew Sookie well enough to know that her first concern was for the human who had been killed, and not for Appius or himself. She had spent enough time with vampires and had seen enough of Alexei to know what did and did not matter to them. She was often naïve, but never stupid.

If Alexei felt chastised or abashed, he didn't show it. "When I was with my human family, I could do anything I wanted. I was so sick, they indulged me."

"I can sure understand that," Sookie replied. "Any family would be tempted to do that with a sick child. But since you're well now, and you've had lots of years to mature, I know you understand that doing exactly what you want to do is not a good plan."

Eric hid a smile behind his hand. Only Sookie would try to mother a vampire.

"I don't look grown up," Alexei pointed out.

"No, and it's an awful pity what happened to you and your family, but-"

To Eric's great surprise, Alexei reached across the table and clasped one of Sookie's hands. Whatever passed between them in those few seconds, it affected Sookie deeply. She blanched, trembled, and looked as if she would be violently ill. Eric wrapped his arm around her and glanced at Appius, who sat silent and still. Alexei had probably shown her the same thing he had shown Pam and Felicia and Maxwell and anyone else within reach.

"You see? You see? I should be free to go my own way!" Alexei exclaimed.

At this declaration, Appius stared at the boy, and Eric saw the grim resolution in his eyes. He could not continue to postpone sending Alexei Romanov to the final death.

"No," Sookie said, her voice soft but clear. "No matter how we suffer, we have an obligation to others. We have to be unselfish enough to try to live in the right way so others can get through their own lives without us fouling them up."

Alexei sank back into the booth and frowned. "That's what Master says, too. More or less."

Without looking at Appius, Sookie said, "Master is right."

Appius motioned for Felicia, who came to their table a little more relaxed than she was when she had left it. Perhaps Sookie's presence reassured her.

"What can I get you all?" she asked. "Sookie, can I bring you a beer or…?"

Sookie smiled. "Some iced tea would be great, Felicia."

"And some True Blood for all of you? Or… we do have a bottle of Royalty." Eric winced; Alexei had been offered Royalty the night before, and he had not taken it well. Eric was sure it had to do with the boy's own royal family. Felicia recovered quickly. "Okay, True Blood for Eric, tea for Sookie."

Sookie thanked her, and she went for the drinks as Pam approached them.

"Excuse me," she said in Appius' direction, though she didn't quite look at him. Then she turned to Eric. "Eric, Katherine Boudreaux is visiting Fangtasia tonight. She's with Sallie and a small party."

Shit. Fuck. Crazed underage Romanov vampire, unpredictable Roman, empty bar. Nothing like putting one's best foot forward. "Tonight," he muttered, shaking his head. "With much regret, Ocella, I must ask you and Alexei to go back to my office."

When they had gone, Eric cursed under his breath, then put on his most winning smile for Katherine and Sallie.

Sookie, as if she sensed that Eric needed a moment to order his thoughts, put her Southern upbringing to good use. "You must be Katherine Boudreaux. I'm Sookie Stackhouse. I'm Eric's girlfriend."

Wife, he corrected her mentally.

By the time Katherine had greeted Sookie warmly and introduced herself and Sallie, Eric felt more like himself.

"We're so glad you're here," he said, smiling at each of them. "Sallie, always good to see you. How's the tax business?"

"Taxes are booming, as always," she chuckled. "You ought to know, Eric. You pay enough of them."

Too right he did.

"It's good to see our vampire citizens getting along with our human citizens." As if to prove her optimistic point, Katherine looked around the bar – and Eric was faintly amused at her disappointed reaction.

"Your table is ready!" Pam announced, motioning for them to join her. Eric shot her a grateful look, which she pretended not to see.

"Excuse me, Eric," Katherine said. "I've gotta go pay attention to my company."

"Of course. I hope they enjoy themselves, and I look forward to seeing both you and Sallie again soon."

"Absolutely," Sallie said. "It was a pleasure to meet you, Sookie."

"You too!" Sookie replied.

Once Katherine and Sallie were seated with their guests and Felicia had taken charge of waiting on them, Pam looked inclined to join himself and Sookie. He signaled for her to give them a little time alone.

And then they were – finally, blessedly alone. He threaded his fingers through hers and lowered his forehead into his free hand, staring down at the tabletop as if it held answers to his myriad problems.

Sookie squeezed his hand slightly, drawing his attention back to her. "Can you tell me what's up with you? This is awful. It's very hard to have faith in us when I don't know what's happening."

I always tell you the truth. I may not tell you everything I know, but what I tell you – it's true. He had said that to her once. Tonight would be a case in point. He could not bring himself to tell her about the arranged marriage. It would only wound her at a time when they both needed their full strength. It would distance her when he most needed her. It would turn her against him when she most needed him. The fact that she had faith in him, and the knowledge of how difficult it had been to win that faith, was something he could not destroy until he had exhausted every other possibility.

"Ocella has had some business to discuss with me… some unwelcome business," he told her. "And, as you saw, my half-brother is ailing."

"Yes, he shared that with me," she shuddered. "You don't go through something like that and come out Mr. Mental Health, but I've never experienced anything like that. I know it must have been hell for him, but I've got to say-"

"You don't want to go through it, too," he finished for her, choosing not to add that what she had endured at the hands of Neave and Lochlan would have disqualified almost anyone else from winning "Mr. Mental Health." "You're not alone in that," he assured her. "It's clearest for us – Ocella, me, you. But he can share that with other people, too. It's not as detailed for them, they tell me. No one wants that memory. We all carry plenty of our own bad memories." Again he thought of the night of Sookie's kidnap and torture, the blackest night of his long existence. "I'm afraid that he may not be able to survive as a vampire." He toyed with his bottle of blood, wondering how Sookie would take the idea of Appius having to kill Alexei. "Apparently, it's a nightly grind to get Alexei to do the simplest things… and not to do others. You heard his remark about the teenager. I don't want to go into the details… however… Have you read the papers lately? The Shreveport papers?"

Her blue eyes widened in disbelief. "You mean Alexei might be responsible for those two murders? The stab wounds, the throats?" She had, perhaps unconsciously, raised her hand to her own throat. "But he's so small and young…"

"He's insane. Ocella finally told me that Alexei had had episodes like this before, not as severe." Again he hesitated. "It has led him to consider – very reluctantly – giving Alexei the final death."

Sookie reacted just as he knew she would. "You mean putting him to sleep? Like a dog?"

He did not avert his gaze as he sometimes did when she expressed her outrage at vampires' actions. He explained to her the necessity of it, the danger to himself and others if it was not done. "He'll subvert all we're trying to do here in the United States," he finished, hoping that this reminder of the larger picture would sway her if nothing else did. "Not that my maker cares about my position in this country," he muttered.

She patted his cheek. "Yeah, let's not forget the two dead men that Alexei murdered in a painful and horrible way. I mean, I realize that this is all about him and your maker and your personal cred, but let's spare a tip of the hat to those guys he killed." She could spare them a tip of the hat on her own time. He didn't give a rat's ass. "So your maker brought Alexei to you, hoping that you'd have some bright ideas about keeping your half-brother alive, teaching him some self-control?"

"Yes," Eric said. He kept his eyes on hers. "That's one of the reasons he's here."

A small part of him wanted her to ask about the other reasons. She did not.

"Appius Livius having sex with the kid can't be helping Alexei's mental health," she observed.

Her face showed nothing but disgust as he reminded her that Appius was from another time with different rules – that not everything could be seen through her own moral prism. Not that it mattered now, since Appius and Alexei were no longer lovers.

She paled a little. "If Appius Livius isn't having sex with Alexei… who is he having sex with?"

He knew quite well what she was asking. "I know this is your business since we're married." Though you introduce yourself as my "girlfriend," a pathetic word for what you are to me. "Something I've insisted on and you've belittled," he added. "I can only tell you that I'm not having sex with my maker… but I would if he told me that was what he wanted. I would have no choice."

She absorbed this in silence, and her expression was impossible to read.

"Eric, you're busy with your visitors," she said finally. "I'm going to that meeting at Alcide's Monday night. I'll tell you what happens… when and if you call me. There are a couple of things I need to bring you up to speed on if you ever have a chance to come to my place to talk."

He could not have failed to catch her less than subtle rebukes, and he decided that she was right. He should have called her, Appius and Alexei be damned.

"If they stay until Tuesday, I'm going to see you no matter what they're doing," he promised. The thought of it lifted his spirits and gave him something, however small in the long run, to hope for. "We'll make love. I feel like buying you a present."

He smiled, and she responded in kind. "That sounds like a great night to me. She raised their hands, which were still clasped, and kissed his fingers. "I don't need a present. Just you. So I'll see you Tuesday, no matter what. That's what you said, right?"

"That's what I said," he nodded.

"Okay, then. Until Tuesday."

She started to go, but he didn't release her hand. His good mood had been swept away as quickly as it had arrived. Even the promise of a night with her couldn't change the fact that Appius and Alexei waited in his office, that Victor continued to plot his ruin, and that Freyda of Oklahoma now considered him hers. What Freyda didn't know was that he could never be hers – that Sookie possessed him in every sense of the word.

"I love you, and you are my wife in the only way that matters to me," he told her. He wanted her to know that. He wanted Appius to know it. He wanted the Queen of Oklahoma to know it. He wanted the whole fucking world to know it because it was something he would fight for.

Sookie looked puzzled, but she said, "Love you, too," and went on her way.

Chapter Text

Eric made the decision to stay home on Monday night since he wanted to be readily available if anything went wrong for Sookie at the pack meeting. The Herveaux house was close by, a fact which usually annoyed him, but for which he was grateful tonight. Appius and Alexei didn't seem to mind staying in; they had been in their room since nightfall, quiet and seemingly content. Bobby was scheduled to drop by with some paperwork, but until he arrived, Eric could enjoy the rare luxury of having nothing to do.

As it turned out, however, there was nothing to enjoy.

He began to feel ill, nauseated even. His vision clouded and blurred. He sat perfectly still for some minutes, waiting for it to pass, but it didn't. It only seemed to get worse. The room spun and spun and light shot from the bulbs and streetlamps like sparks. He fumbled nearby for his phone and called Pam.

"You all right?" she asked immediately. Could she feel it, too? Hear the whirling lights? He realized he hadn't said anything. "Eric?"

He wanted to answer her, but he dropped the phone. Fuck.

He lost track of time.

"Eric!" He blinked his eyes to see Pam hovering over him. "What's wrong with you?" she demanded.

"Does he need blood?" asked a voice from behind her. It sounded like Bobby. "I just heated some up for him."

Pam frowned, took the bottle of blood from Bobby, and set it aside on the coffee table. "He doesn't need blood. Felicia, check his kitchen to see what he's drunk tonight, if anything. He might have been poisoned." She took his face in one hand and lightly slapped his cheek with the other. "Eric, what have you had to drink tonight?" She lowered her voice. "Did Appius Livius give you something? Or that boy?"

Felicia appeared at Pam's side. "Nothing in the kitchen. Think it's fairy blood?"

"I have no idea." She slapped him harder. "Eric!"

"What is this commotion?"

The voice – Appius' voice – was behind him, and both Pam and Felicia looked up sharply. The room and the objects in it seemed to have settled into fixed places again, though the lights still shone overly bright.

"Eric seems unwell," Pam said. "Do you have any idea why that might be?" Her tone clearly said, Tell me why that is.

"I know why!"

It was Alexei's voice, cold and not sane. Eric struggled to sit up straighter. He was feeling somewhat more like himself, but still not quite right. "Bobby," he said, though he couldn't see his assistant past Pam and Felicia. "Tell Bobby to go."

"I won't leave you," Bobby answered from behind them. "We'll figure this thing out."

"I know what's wrong with my brother," Alexei said. "We have not seen enough of Sookie. He has gone too long without her blood. I know how much he needs it because I need it myself. When I remember her and Jason, I am desperate to taste them. Let us go there now."

Eric stood very steadily and turned to look at Alexei and Appius. "You will not leave this house," he told the boy. "You will never see Sookie again."

Alexei bared his fangs, and Eric felt his own extend.

Appius put a hand on each of Alexei's shoulders. "That's enough, dearest." There was a tense silence, and then Alexei's small body relaxed. "Good boy. Now, I want you to follow Eric's employees throughout the house and help them find whatever might have harmed Eric. Is that clear?"

"Yes, Master," Alexei said softly.

Eric sank onto the sofa as Appius switched off the lights and walked around to join him. Pam seemed to be waiting for some signal that she could leave him to search the house with the others, and he gave her a nod. When they were alone, Appius turned Eric's head and studied his eyes.

"You were not poisoned," he said. "The darkness helps?"

Eric nodded.

They sat quietly for some time before a loud shout from Pam jerked them both to their feet. Felicia screamed. Seconds later, Bobby and Felicia ran into the room, both of them splattered with blood.

"The little one-" Bobby gasped.

They were his last words. Alexei snapped his neck and tore out Felicia's throat in a blur of movement. Eric roared in anger and lunged at the boy, but Alexei fended him off with a brutal jab from his sharp, bony elbow. Eric heard, rather than felt, his bones crack, and in his weakened state, he crumpled at Alexei's feet. The boy kicked his face, laughed madly, and escaped the room with such speed that he seemed to vanish into thin air.

Appius, looking paler and more haggard than Eric had ever seen him, used his shirtsleeve to wipe some of the blood from his face. "This ends tonight," he said, his voice little more than a murmur. "Do not follow us, Eric. I will not have you further harmed." He took a few steps, then turned. "In staying here, you will prove to me that you value your own life more than Sookie's. In so doing, you will convince me to let your marriage with her stand, and I will arrange to release you from the obligation to Oklahoma." Then he, too, disappeared.

Groaning in agony, Eric managed to drag himself back towards the sofa and pull himself up. He could see the jagged points of his ribs protruding weirdly from under his shirt. He could smell Felicia's blood, and he wondered if Pam had survived. He tried to feel for her through his blood, but that was useless. Whatever had impaired him, it was still in his blood. But if she had lived, she would already be at his side. She would call out, at the very least. No, he had lost her.

Spots of blood fell from the gash in his head – and perhaps from his eyes; he could not tell – and stippled a pattern on the floor. He had one consolation: Sookie was not at home, and Alexei would not find her. Sookie, above all, was safe. He rested his head in his hands and closed his eyes.

He didn't know how many minutes had passed when he heard someone enter the house… heard Sookie's voice say his name. He felt light-headed from the blood loss, but he gathered his voice to answer her.

"Eric, where are you?" she called. He felt her presence blooming inside him.

"In here," he said. His voice was weak. Had she heard him?

"Thank you, God," he heard her say, and a moment later, he saw light in the kitchen.

He closed his eyes again and said his own prayer of thanks, not to her god but to a pantheon he had known and abandoned centuries earlier. He heard footsteps, and then a soft gasp, and then Sookie was crouching in front of him, her hand touching one of his.

"Honey? Look at me," she murmured.

Eric lifted his head and looked at her, almost not trusting the sight. Many men died in the desert with hands clenching sand that had promised to be an oasis. He read his condition in her frightened expression. Behind her, he could see Jason taking in the bloody surroundings. Alexei would find only disappointment in Bon Temps tonight, then.

Sookie's eyes fell from his face, and her face paled. "What's under the shirt?" she asked, sounding very much as if she didn't really want to know.

"My ribs are broken, and they've come through." He winced as he tried to sit up a little. "They'll heal, but it'll take time. You'll have to push them back into place."

She closed her eyes for a moment. Opened them again. "Tell me what's happened."

"Dead guy over here. Human," Jason said, and Sookie looked back at him over her shoulder.

She rested her chin on her shoulder briefly, perhaps gathering herself, perhaps not wanting to look at Eric again. Her voice was strained when she did turn back to him. "Who is it, Eric?" She stood up and guided him backwards to lie down, then helped him lift his feet up. That done, she perched next to him on the edge of the sofa, waiting for him to answer her.

"It's Bobby. I tried to get him out of here in time, but…" He shook his head. "He was so sure there was something he could do to help me."

"Who killed him?"

He could hear the strain in her voice, the immense effort to sound calm. He could see her determination not to look anywhere but at his face as he told her what had happened.

"Why was Felicia here?" she asked.

"She was dating Bobby." No doubt a "suggestion" from Victor. "He had some papers I needed to sign, and she'd just come over with him."

She bit her lip. "So Felicia…?" He could tell that she already knew the answer.

As if to confirm this, Jason said, "Part of a vampire left over here… looks like the rest has flaked away."

"She's gone to her final death," Eric said absently, and his thoughts went to Pam. He didn't think he could bear to hear Jason Stackhouse's matter-of-fact report that Pam had "flaked away." A wave of grief rolled through him, threatening to break the dam of control he had built up against it.

Sookie leaned forward and held him as closely as she could without touching his ribs. "Oh, I'm so sorry," she said. She sat up again, her eyes wide. "Where's Alexei now? Where's Appius? Is he still alive?"

"I don't know," he said.

Sookie gaped. "Why not? He's your maker, buddy!" She stood and paced to the end of the sofa. "You'd know if he died. If I've been feeling you three for a week, I know you've been feeling him even stronger. You need to get out of here and go find him!"

He looked away from her. "He asked me not to follow when he went after Alexei… He doesn't want us all to die."

"So you're just going to sit home because he said so?" she demanded, crossing her arms. "When you don't know where they are, or what they're doing, or who they're doing it to?"

"Ocella asked this of me," he told her firmly, choosing not to point out that he was hardly just sitting at home.

"So he asked? That doesn't sound like a direct order to me. It sounds like a request." She raised one defiant eyebrow. "Correct me if I'm wrong."

If she was trying to bait him to make him angry, it was working. "No, it was not a direct order."

Sookie turned and called over her shoulder, "Jason! Please push Eric's ribs back in." She stepped out of the way as her brother walked over and pressed his hands to each side of Eric's broken ribcage.

"Ready?" Jason asked.

He closed his eyes and pushed hard, and Eric cried out in pain, forcing himself to stay conscious. He shut himself off from Sookie as much as he could to prevent her from feeling it, and then he fell heavily back into the sofa, spent. He could already feel his body healing itself. Jason, looking queasy, left them alone again.

Sookie reclaimed her spot on the edge of the sofa and reached for the untouched bottle of blood that Bobby had brought out for him earlier. It was no longer warm. "Well, then?" she said, watching him as he drank. "What are you gonna do?"

He wiped his mouth and set the empty bottle on the floor beside him. "Later on, we'll have words about this." He looked at her in a way that would let anyone else know to leave it alone. Anyone else but Sookie.

"Fine with me," she said stubbornly. "And while you're listing the things you should be doing, where's the cleaning crew?"

He refrained from pointing out that she had been listing things she thought he should be doing, but he let it go. "Bobby-" He had almost reminded her that the cleaning crew was Bobby's job. He didn't know what to say.

"Okay," Sookie said with a touch of gentleness in her voice, "how's about I do that part?"

Eric turned his head and stared up at the ceiling. "He kept a list of important numbers in the right-hand desk drawer in my office," he told her.

She went to his office, and he listened as she ordered the service. He listened as she called to Jason, "Please, please, find Pam!" Nice of her to remember Pam at last, he thought bitterly.

When she came back to the living room, she raised the shades and hoisted up the windows. The fresh air from outside was, admittedly, a welcome relief. But the respite was to be short-lived; Sookie wasn't done with him yet.

"What's the plan?" she asked, looking very much like a scolding mother.

"There isn't one," he said.

Sookie shook her head. "What's the plan?" she insisted.

He felt weak; the single bottle of True Blood hadn't been enough. He was physically and mentally exhausted from the effort of keeping her shut off from Appius and Alexei as much as he could. And he felt utterly powerless for the first time in many centuries, as if the world were spinning out of control. Victor snapping at his heels like a rabid dog, Pam gone forever, Appius, Alexei, Freyda. He didn't realize that he was weeping until he felt the blood sliding down his face.

"I told you I haven't made a plan," he said brokenly. "I don't know what to do. Ocella may be dead by now if Alexei was clever enough to waylay him."

"Bzzzzzzt!" Sookie said, as if he had given the wrong answer on a television game show. "You'd know if Appius Livius was dead. He's your maker." No, he wanted to tell her, I wouldn't know. My blood is too full of you! "What's the plan?" she asked again.

Ignoring the pain, he leapt up from the sofa and rounded on her so abruptly that she took a few steps backwards. "I haven't got one! No matter what I do, someone will die!"

Sookie recovered her composure and stepped closer to him, her finger pointed at his chest. "With no plan, someone's going to die. And you know it." She waved her arms around. "Someone's probably dying right this second! Alexei is crazy! Let's have a plan!"

She was begging, not demanding, now, and he knew what she wanted – needed – from him. But he was momentarily distracted by the scent that had wafted from her flailing arms. "Why do you smell strange?" he frowned. "You smell of Were and of drugs… and you've been sick." Drugs. This explained what had happened to him earlier. Fucking Weres.

"I've already been through hell tonight," she said. He saw the exhaustion in her eyes and written on her face. "And now I get to go through it twice because someone's got to get your Viking butt on the road."

He successfully fought back a smile and said calmly, "What am I supposed to do?"

"So you're okay with Alexei killing Appius?" she asked. "I mean, I sure am, but I would've thought you would've objected. Guess I was wrong."

Before he could reply, they were interrupted by Jason, who leaned against the doorframe and looked almost deathly white. "I found Pam." He took a few steps forward to the nearest chair and practically fell into it. "She needed blood."

Eric felt that Jason had once again pushed the pieces of his chest back together. He sank slowly back onto the sofa, overcome.

"But she's moving?" Sookie asked.

"Only barely. She's cut, her ribs are kicked in, and her left arm and her right leg are broken."

"Oh, God!" Sookie gasped. Without another word, she dashed past both of them and disappeared.

Eric and Jason sat in silence, one from weakness, and one from the sudden and almost overpowering return of strength.

When Sookie returned, it was with Pam leaning heavily against her. Eric immediately went to help them, though he wasn't completely recovered himself.

"Who would have thought Alexei could do so much damage?" Sookie mused. "He's so puny, and you're a great fighter."

"Flattery is not effective at this point," Pam said hoarsely. "It was my fault. The little shit was following Bobby around, and I saw he'd gotten a knife from the kitchen. I tried to corner him while Bobby got out of the house… to give Ocella a chance to cool the boy down. But he went for me." She groaned as they helped her lie on the sofa. "He's fast as a snake."

"Do you need my blood?" He smoothed some matted hair back from her face. "I thank you for doing your best to stop him."

She leaned back and winced. "He's my kin, too. Through you, I'm related to that little murderer." They exchanged knowing smiles, and Eric motioned to his wrist. "No," Pam said, waving him away. "You need all your blood if you're going after him. I'm healing."

"Since you got a few pints of mine," Jason said good-naturedly from across the room.

Pam grinned at him. "It was good. Thank you, panther."

Then Jason's phone rang.

Chapter Text

They all listened as Jason spoke to the person on the other end of the line – a girlfriend, from the sound of it. Eric couldn't tell if he was pale because of what she was saying or from his sizable blood donation to Pam. He told her to stay inside and lock the doors until she heard from him, and he put away his phone.

"That was Michele," he told them, and Sookie nodded. He raked a darkly tanned hand through his hair. "Alexei was just at my house, looking for me. She went to the door, but when she saw he was a deader" – Eric smirked at the term – "she didn't ask him in. He told her he wants to…warm himself in my life. Whatever that means. He'd tracked me there from your house by my smell."

"Did the older one come after him?" Sookie asked.

"Yeah, within a minute," Jason replied.

"What did Michele tell them?"

Jason looked a little sheepish. "She told them to go back to your house. She figured if they were vamps, they were some problem of yours."

Sookie and Eric exchanged a worried look. Jason's house was safe, but Appius and Alexei could simply walk into Sookie's house. Without another word, Sookie ran outside.

"Her phone's out there," Jason explained, answering the questioning looks from Eric and Pam.

Sookie's voice grew louder as she returned to them from outside. "Get in your car and get out," she was saying urgently by the time she reached them. Eric assumed she was warning her fairy cousin. She held her hand out to her brother. "Give me your keys, Jason. You're in no shape to drive after your blood donation, and Eric's still healing. I don't want to drive his car."

Jason obediently tossed the keys into his sister's waiting hand. When he didn't move to follow her, Eric realized that Sookie had every intention of going alone.

Pam appeared to be recovering still, and Eric didn't feel entirely well, but there wasn't a chance in hell that he would let Sookie go to face Appius and Alexei without help. He stood and refrained from wincing at the pain.

"I'm coming," he said.

He couldn't tell if her expression was one of resignation or relief. Their bond felt blurred and distended and useless, for which Eric blamed both the Were drugs and Alexei's madness.

She nodded. "All right."

"I'm coming, too," said Pam. She made an effort to sit up, but it failed miserably. She growled.

"I need you to stay here," Eric told her. He knew she would protest unless he saved her pride. "If they return, I want someone here. Is that understood?"

Pam made a face, but she didn't argue. Sookie, meanwhile, was explaining to her brother about the clean-up crew.

"Just stay out of their way. They know what to do," she finished. She looked at Eric. "Ready?"

"Let's go," he said.

"I could heal along the way!" Pam called after them.

They ignored her.

Jason's truck smelled of Southern man: deer, fish, bait, chewing tobacco, beer, sweat. Eric decided that he should simply be grateful for the absence of "truck nuts" hanging from the back bumper. Sookie backed out of the drive, and the tires squealed as she shifted gears and floored the accelerator.

They spent the next three-quarters of an hour in absolute silence. Eric's mind was far too occupied to speak, and he imagined that Sookie felt the same. When he glanced at her occasionally, he found her expression the same each time: stony and determined. Her hands never moved from their 2:00 and 10:00 grips on the steering wheel, and her knuckles were white. With Appius and Alexei on the loose, he didn't risk breaking the careful seal he had been maintaining on their bond. Her feelings would have to remain a mystery for now.

As they neared the narrow drive that led to her house, a stab of brutal pain hit his head and neck, and he rocked forward in the seat, clutching the nape of his neck with his hands. He ground his teeth to keep from crying out. Just as suddenly as the pain had struck, it was replaced by numbness. Either Appius or Alexei had been severely injured; he could only pray that it was the latter.

He sat up to find that Sookie's yard was in view. Her fairy cousin wielded a knife in each hand, and another fairy stood at his back, this one with a sword. Appius lay on the ground, unmoving. And to cap off the grim tableau, a naked and bloody Alexei walked slowly around the fairies like a cobra ready to strike.

Sookie, who had been speeding down her drive, slammed on the brakes and threw the gear shift into park. They both leaped out and headed cautiously towards Alexei. As they neared him, Eric felt waves of strength and joy. From Appius he felt absolutely nothing.

The boy kept his attention on the fairies, but he smiled as Sookie and Eric approached. "You didn't bring Jason. I wanted to see him."

"He had to give Pam a lot of blood to keep her from dying. He was too weak," Sookie said. She had clutched Eric's arm with her hands, and she had placed herself slightly behind him. One of her rare concessions to self-preservation.

"He should have let her pass away," Alexei replied.

Eric's blood boiled.

Alexei ducked under the second fairy's sword to punch him, and the enraged fairy slashed at Alexei with almost vampiric speed, leaving a trail of blood on the small boy's shoulder.

Sookie, who had released Eric's arm and taken a step forward, raised both hands palm forward. "Can you please stop?" she said. She swayed, and Eric quickly put an arm around her to support her. Her hands fell limp at her sides as she leaned against him. He could not give her strength through the bond; it was all he could do to brace them both against Alexei's manic mood.

"No!" Alexei said. He sounded happier than Eric had ever heard him. "Eric's love for you is pouring through our bond, Sookie, but I can't stop." He shot them a brief, almost beatific smile and focused again on the fairies. "This is the best I've felt in decades!"

Eric thought he saw Ocella move, and he guided Sookie in that direction. "Ocella, do you live?" he asked quietly.

To his relief, the Roman opened one eye. "For the first time in centuries…" he said hoarsely, wincing, "I think I wish I didn't." He noticed Sookie and observed, "She'll kill me with no compunction, that one." Eric extended a hand to help him up, but Appius did not take it. "Alexei has severed my spinal column, and until it heals, I will not be able to move."

"Alexei, please don't kill the fairies," Sookie begged, drawing Eric's attention away from Appius. "That's my cousin Claude, and I don't have much family left."

"Who's the other one?" Alexei asked. He obviously had no intention of heeding Sookie's request.

"I have no idea."

The second fairy raised a fist at Sookie and shook it. "I am Colman! I am of the sky fae, and my child is dead because of you, woman."

Sookie shrugged off Eric's arm and stepped forward. Eric couldn't imagine what she intended to do, but he had a very good idea of what hewould do. A low-branched tree stood only feet away, offering an endless supply of stakes.

Before he could snatch one, Sookie surprised him by running towards the house. Alexei, too enraptured by the fairies, ignored her. For once in her reckless life, Sookie was protecting herself. Good.

His satisfaction was short-lived. Sookie emerged only a minute later, and she held one arm behind her back. From his angle, Eric could see that it was a silver chain. With every step she took towards Alexei, Eric took one of his own from the other side. Between himself, Sookie, and the fairies, they could surely take Alexei down. He passed by the tree and snapped off a branch.

As Alexei moved close to Sookie, she flung out the silver chain, caught him, and pulled until he was on the ground, writhing and screaming. Eric didn't waste a second. Baring his fangs, he plunged the stake into Alexei's chest. Young and small as Alexei was, it was over quickly.

With Alexei dead, it was as if someone had drawn poison out of Eric's blood. Sookie knelt beside the body. If she felt any remorse over what they had done, Eric didn't feel it.

The fairies seemed focused only on each other, but Eric had not forgotten Colman's rage at Sookie. He watched the fairy's every movement. Then he heard Sookie's voice behind him, whispering.

"I want to kill you right now. I want you dead so bad."

He spun around to see her poised over Appius, the bloody tree branch in her hand. She wouldn't do it. He knew she wouldn't do it.

Appius actually smiled. "Since you've stopped to speak to me, I know you're not going to do it." The Roman's eyes glittered, and his upper lip curled. "You won't keep Eric, either."

Eric watched the anger darken her face as she raised the makeshift stake. He held out one hand. "Don't…"

Sookie looked up at him, and then she looked back at Appius. "You know what you could do that would actually be some help, Appius Livius?" she asked.

There was only one thing he could think of that Sookie would ask: for Appius to dissolve the blood bond. And that was something Appius would gladly do.

But Sookie's request went unasked. Before Eric could blink, Colman shoved him aside and stalked towards Appius and Sookie. Eric shouted as the fairy raised the blade, but it was too late. Time seemed to slow then. Appius looked up, and Eric saw him take in Colman before flicking his gaze over to Eric. He heard Move! in his head, and it wasn't himself or Sookie who had thought it. It was Appius telling Sookie to move, and she obeyed him, flinging her body out of the way just in time for Colman's sword to impale Appius instead.

A split-second later, a dagger flew out of nowhere and landed in Colman's back, setting the fairy off balance. Eric ran forward and pushed Colman out of the way. He had never felt death until this moment, not even Alexei's. But now he felt Colman's sword in every cell in his body, as if he himself had been stabbed.

"Ocella!" he cried out. There was nothing. Only a hole in his being where Ocella had been.

Enraged and finally overcome by the smell of blood and fairies, Eric spun around, grabbed Colman, and sank his fangs into the fairy's neck. It was sublime, this blood. How long had it been since he'd had pure fairy blood, straight from the source? He felt it shooting through his veins, replacing all the blood he'd lost earlier, mending his ribs completely, invigorating him. When he had drained the fairy dry, he tossed the body aside and crouched down. His body and mind were full, and his heart was heavy.

Sookie and her cousin were sitting some distance away, conversing with a third fairy. They each leaned forward to kiss the new arrival, at which scene Eric raised a curious and somewhat amused eyebrow. Whatever they were doing, it had caused the new fairy to weep. Eric watched as Claude left with the crying fairy.

He and Sookie both stood, and she walked over to join him. "This is positively Shakespearean," she said.

They each took in the bloody scene around them, and then they looked at each other. For the first time in many days, he felt nothing but himself and her. It was pure bliss. Eric turned his gaze to the rapidly disintegrating body of his maker.

"Ocella taught me everything about being a vampire," he mused aloud. "He taught me how to feed… how to hide… when it was safe to mingle with humans. He taught me how to make love with men, and later he freed me to make love with women. He protected me and loved me. He caused me pain for decades. He gave me life." His eyes found Sookie's again. As I long to give you life, my dear one. "My maker is dead."

Sookie was happy and relieved, but she was keeping the first emotion in check for his sake, and he loved her for it. "Yes, he is. And I didn't do it."

He studied her. "But you would have."

"I was thinking about it," she admitted.

"What were you going to ask him?" If she hated their blood bond so much that she would allow Appius to live just so he could destroy it, then it was something they would have to undo. He could not live with something that made her so unhappy, however much protection it provided her.

"Before Colman stabbed him?" she asked, and he nodded. Was she stalling? "Well… I was going to tell him I'd be glad to let him live if he'd kill Victor Madden for you."

His adoration for her crashed over him in an unexpected wave, and he took a moment to absorb it. He knew he had to say something. "That would have been good… That was a good idea, Sookie."

She shrugged. "Yeah, well. Not gonna happen."

No, Appius could not kill Victor for them. Nor could Appius now free Eric from the marriage to Oklahoma. But on this night, infused with fairy blood, free of Appius' control and Alexei's madness, alone with Sookie in her yard and in their bond, he felt sure that he could find a way to overcome those obstacles. He could forget Victor and Oklahoma. He felt invincible.

"You were right," he said absently. "This is just like the end of one of Shakespeare's plays."

She nodded and said, just as absently, "We're the people left standing. Yay for us."

"I'm free," he said aloud, and the sound of it was like music. "I feel so good." He took in the scents of darkness and fairy blood and Sookie. He looked at her and told himself that Oklahoma could never, never take him away from her. With Appius gone, that unresolved contract must now be moot anyway. "You are my dearest," he said with feeling.

Sookie's expression was blank. "I'm glad to hear that."

He stepped closer to her and cupped her cheek in his palm. "I have to return to Shreveport to see about Pam… to arrange for the things I must do now that Ocella is dead. But as soon as I can, we'll be together again, and we'll make up for our lost time." He smiled with the first unadulterated happiness he had felt in some time.

"Sounds good to me," she said.

She smiled at him, but there was no joy in her eyes. He understood that she was weary and dazed from the night's events. He would soon make her forget all of that.

He flew straight up into the air and smiled at the vast, open horizon.

Chapter Text

"Are you shitting me?" Pam looked up at him from the piece of paper in her hands – the letter from Freyda which informed him that he was most certainly still obligated to honor Appius' contract with her.

Normally, Eric would have smiled at Pam's way with words, but there was no smiling tonight. He had decided to tell her of the arranged marriage with Oklahoma, deciding that he couldn't keep it from her any longer. Since he received Freyda's letter, he had been scrabbling to come up with some other way out. He was cunning in his own right, but two cunning brains were better than one.

"No," he replied simply.

"Shit," Pam muttered, hopping up from the edge of his desk to pace a few steps back and forth. "Fuck."

"My thoughts exactly, though not so eloquently worded, of course."

Pam turned on her six-inch spiked heel to face him and crossed her arms. "Sookie can't be too happy about this."

"Sookie doesn't know," he said. He found himself suddenly interested in a brown-edged, ancient piece of tape stuck to his desk, and he scraped at one edge with his thumbnail. After waiting in vain for some reaction from Pam, he looked up at her. Her blue eyes were hard and cold. "I saw no reason to worry her because I intended to take care of it. I still intend to take care of it."

Pam stepped closer, rested her palms flat on the desk, and leaned in. "I never imagined I would see cowardice in you, but here it is."

"You know what Sookie would have done if I had told her. She is impetuous and stubborn. She would not have cared that I had no choice in the matter or that I was working to have it undone. She would have done or said something rash, and she needs my protection now more than ever. This is not the time for Sookie to run."

"You disgust me," she hissed. She walked out of the office and slammed the door.

He let her go without reproach. Pam had been on edge for some weeks now, waiting to learn if she would get permission to turn her lover, Miriam. Pam had endless time, of course, but Miriam had leukemia, and her days were numbered. Unfortunately for Pam – and most unfortunately for Miriam – the decision rested in the hands of Victor.

On the following night, Eric opened his laptop to find that Pam had slid a newspaper clipping inside: a "Dear Abby" column about the importance of honesty in a relationship. This he crumpled and tossed aside. For whatever reason Abby was being consulted for advice, he felt quite certain that an arranged vampire marriage was not it.

Beside his laptop, as usual, was his stack of mail, and he thumbed through it. He immediately ripped open an envelope that bore the logo of a vampire lawyer he had contacted. He skimmed the letter and read enough to know that he was fucked yet again: "Mr. Northman… regret to inform you… can be annulled after fifty years in the case of…" He crushed the paper between his hands and rested his forehead on them.

He felt slender fingers slide over his hands, and he lifted his head to see Pam. He hadn't even heard her come in. She took the paper, smoothed it as much as she could, and read it.

"I'm sorry, Eric," she said.

"There are many lawyers," he replied. He balled up the letter again and tossed it into the trash can.

He wanted and needed to see Sookie, so he left the bar early and flew to Bon Temps. Much to his pleasure, he heard the shower running when he entered her house. Wasting no time, he rid himself of his clothes along the way to the bathroom that adjoined her bedroom. Her hand flew to her heart when he pulled the curtain back, but she smiled when she saw him.

"My heart's going a mile a minute," she laughed, wrapping her arms around his neck as he pulled her to him.

They kissed, washed, and touched each other until the water ran lukewarm. Though it was May and already hot as hell outside, Southern homes were air-conditioned and cold on the inside, and Sookie shivered as they stepped out and dried each other off. She practically ran to her bed, and she pulled the covers up close around her neck.

"Get over here," she demanded.

He was more than happy to comply. Her giggles quickly turned into sighs as he covered her body with his and began to warm her up in the best way he knew. Afterward, they lay in a satisfied heap of heavy limbs and tangled, wet hair.

Sookie tightened the arm she had draped over his chest. "I miss you during the day," she said. "Sometimes I see things or go places and find myself wishing you were with me. Do you ever think about that?"

"About being with you during the day? Sometimes."

"Not just that. About being… regular people who do normal things together."

"I will never be human, my lover," he said gently.

"What if there was some magical way you could become human again? Would you do it?"

He shifted his body so that he could look at her instead of staring up at the ceiling. "No," he said, adding after a moment, "though I might for one day. I would like to make love with you outside under the sun. But permanently? No. I have no wish to die."

"Would you do it if I asked you to?"

"Would you become a vampire if I asked you to?"

"No," she admitted. "You know that."

"Why, then, dear one, would I accept your request to die when you will not accept my request to have you live?"

Her forehead crinkled. "But you are dead."

"Am I?" He leaned closer and kissed her, touching her lips lightly with his tongue. "I think you'll find that I am very much alive." He guided her hand down to touch him, to let her see that he wanted her again already.

Not to be outdone, Sookie moved their hands to show him that she, too, was more than ready. "But you aren't warm," she murmured against his lips as he touched her, "like me."

He couldn't argue with that. Fortunately, neither of them seemed very interested in continuing the conversation.

Chapter Text

"Mr. Northman, I'm afraid I can't tell you anything more than the other lawyers did." Desmond Cataliades' voice crackled slightly on the speaker phone, as if he were going through a tunnel. "Unless the queen releases you from the contract, there is simply no way around it."

Eric and Pam looked at each other. Pam wisely kept her expression neutral.

"There has to be a way. There is always a way," Eric insisted. His eyes fell on the letter he had opened and read not an hour ago – a letter from Freyda, listing the date she expected to have the paperwork made official, the date on which she intended to have the marriage ceremony performed, and the date by which she expected him to end "any and all prior commitments."

"No, my friend. Not always." Cataliades paused. "Is there anything else?"

"Anything else? You haven't done shit."

There was a chuckle, and then the lawyer said, "Always a pleasure, Eric. Good evening."

Eric pressed the button to end the call, and the room fell silent for several minutes. Between Victor and Freyda, Eric felt that his carefully maintained control of his life was not merely slipping from his grasp, but being wrenched away. And that was to say nothing of Fangtasia's steep decline in revenue since Victor had opened his own bar nearby. He felt utterly powerless, a sensation not only unfamiliar but infuriating. Frightening.

"Eric…" Pam said slowly, her eyes cautious, "you can't keep this from Sookie any longer."

"I will find a way."

She huffed in exasperation. "There is no way! Everyone seems to know that but you! Besides, don't you think that Sookie would be happier and better off with a real husband?"

He rose slowly from his chair, and Pam backed away a few steps, her eyes wide. "What the fuck is that supposed to mean, Pam?"

"I only meant-"

Eric stopped her with a raised finger. A powerful wave of fear had crashed through his blood suddenly. "Stay by the phone," he commanded, shoving his own phone into his pocket. He raced from the bar and flew straight up into the sky, heading for Bon Temps as fast as he was able.

Sookie's blood called him to the shifter's bar, where he landed amidst police cars and a firetruck. A large group of people milled around outside, and Eric heard the words "bomb" and "fire" as he shoved his way through the crowd. Ignoring everyone else in his path, he went to Sookie and leaned down to look at her. Her shoulders felt unusually fragile under his hands.

"Are you hurt?" The alarm in his own voice surprised him. They had been in far worse situations than this in the past. He was losing it. The thought did nothing to improve his state of mind.

"M-my apron caught fire, but I think my legs are okay," she said. Her valiant effort at a smile was belied by her shaky voice and the tear making its way down her cheek. "I only lost a little hair, so I didn't come out of it too bad." She swiped the tear away briskly as it neared the corner of her mouth. "Bud, Truman," she said with a sniffle, "I can't remember if you've met my boyfriend, Eric Northman from Shreveport."

There was simply no taking the polite Southern belle out of a woman. Not killing, not vampire bloodbaths, not fairy torture. Not bombs in the workplace.

"How'd you know there was trouble here, Mr. Northman?" asked one of the men to whom he had just been introduced. He neither recalled nor cared about the name.

"Sookie called me on her cell phone," he replied, his gaze still intent on her. He smelled burnt hair, and he walked around her to survey the damage. Her beautiful hair had been badly damaged. "I'm going to look at your legs," he told her, careful to keep his voice even. "Then we'll find a doctor and a beautician."

With everything else in his life spiraling out of control, the least he could do was manage this small situation… take care of his wife's needs, whether urgent or trifling. Who would do it once he was gone? Who would feel the call of her blood when she was in danger? Who would protect her? He banished those thoughts immediately.

Sookie was looking up at him with that desperate, forced smile of hers. "Honey, we have other things to think about. Dealing with a little hair damage can wait until tomorrow." She was trying to use the bond to calm them both, and it wasn't working on either side. "It's a lot more important to find out who did this and why."

I don't have other things to think about right now. I have you and only you. He spared a disdainful glance for the shifter and snapped, "Yes, his bar is far more important than your safety and well-being."

Sookie immediately rose to her friend's defense, but while her lips said one thing, he listened instead to her blood: she was tired and frightened.

He touched some of the disarrayed strands of her hair and said gently, "I'm taking you home."

"Not until I talk to her," said one of the humans.

Eric turned on him, fangs already extended. "Honey…" Sookie said shakily. She stood up and slipped her arm around his waist, her fingers curled tightly into him. "Honey," she said again, and he looked down at her. "Bud and Truman are in charge here, and they have their rules to follow. I'm okay." She made another effort at a smile.

"You were frightened," he said. You still are.

"How'd you get here so quick?" the human police officer asked him.

Eric didn't even look at him. "I flew."

Sookie was now gritting her teeth more than smiling. "The sooner we get all this settled, the sooner we can leave." Eric could see the pleading in her eyes, and that – only that – made him relent.

He retracted his fangs. "Of course, my darling. You're absolutely right."

Eric guided her back into her seat and took her hand as the police officer flipped back some pages of his notepad and clicked open his ballpoint pen.

"Now, Sookie, you just tell me what you saw," the officer said.

Eric listened carefully as Sookie answered each question, describing what little she could of the incident. To his relief, the attack seemed like a personal one against the shifter. He sent a quick text message to Pam: "Sookie's hair damaged in fire. Meet us at her house with someone who can fix it."

At long last, the officer seemed to decide that he had gotten enough out of Sookie. "You take care of yourself, now, Sookie," he said, touching his forehead in lieu of having a hat to tip.

"Thanks, Bud, and y'all let me know if you need anything else, okay?"

Eric put one arm around her and guided her outside to her car. The crowd had thinned a great deal. Humans generally lost interest as soon as they learned that no one was dead. Sookie put the key in her car door, and the other keys on the ring rattled as her hand shook. She met his eyes and held the keys out to him. He took them without a word. As she walked around to the other side of the car, he found the mechanism to move her seat back far enough to accommodate his long legs.

Neither one of them spoke during the short drive to her house. Sookie seemed to be relishing the welcome quiet, and his own mind was too full of things he couldn't say. As he pulled up to Sookie's house, he noticed with satisfaction that Pam was already there. She and her passenger had parked in front, but he drove to the back, where he knew that Sookie always left her car.

She unlocked the back door to let herself and him inside, then made her way quickly to the front door. He walked more slowly behind her, looking into one or two of the rooms to assure himself that the house was empty. The scent of fairy lingered, but he could tell that both of her fae kin were away from home tonight. Good. Later in the evening, he and Sookie could put this wretched night behind them by making love.

"Come in!" he heard Sookie call from the porch.

He reached the door just as Pam and their guest did. The guest – a young human who seemed fitter for shaping topiary than a woman's hair – was not at all what he'd had in mind. He shot a furious look at Pam.

"Hello," Sookie said, and Eric could tell that she was as uncertain as he was.

The human was too preoccupied with looking around to answer Sookie, and Pam gave him a knock on the head. "Speak when you're spoken to, Immanuel."

He cleared his throat. "Hello, ma'am."

They were all inside now, and Sookie closed the front door. Pam regarded Sookie with a wrinkled nose. "You smell, Sookie," she observed, and Eric shot her a look which she either missed or ignored.

"It was the fire," Sookie said.

"You can tell me about it in a moment. Sookie, this man is Immanuel Earnest. He cuts hair at Death by Fashion in Shreveport. He's brother to my lover, Miriam."

"This is the one you brought to correct Sookie's hair?" Eric asked Pam. He made no effort to hide the displeasure in his voice.

"Miriam says he is the best. I haven't had a haircut in a hundred fifty years. How would I know?"

Eric narrowed his eyes at her. "Look at him!"

Immanuel looked back and forth between them awkwardly until Sookie said, "I like his tattoos. The colors are real pretty." She smiled. "So… you're going to cut off the bad parts?"

"Of your hair," Immanuel said, and Eric wondered what in hell might have been meant other than hair. "Do you have a high stool?"

Sookie confirmed that she did, and she led them all into her kitchen. She pulled out a stool and perched herself on it as Pam and Eric sat down at the table, facing her. The room seemed suddenly tense as Immanuel released her ponytail and walked behind her to see what he was dealing with. Fortunately, Sookie couldn't see the expressions on the young man's face.

"Is it very bad?" she asked finally.

Immanuel tilted his head to one side, using his thumb and forefinger as a rough ruler. "I'm going to have to take off about three inches."

This didn't seem bad to Eric at all, especially since Sookie would be stunning even if her head were shaved, but she was obviously fighting back tears. As Immanuel laid out the tools of his trade, Eric realized that by the time Sookie's hair grew back out, he would be Freyda's consort of several months.

They had so little time.

"It's damaged beyond repair," Immanuel said as he combed. "I'll cut, then you wash, then I cut again."

"You must quit this job." Eric was hardly aware that he had spoken the thought aloud until Sookie stiffened and Immanuel froze, apparently thinking that Eric meant him.

Sookie sighed. "We'll talk later."

"What will happen next?" he persisted. "You're too vulnerable!" And I won't be here.

She shot him a look. "We'll talk later," she said.

Now that her hair was falling loose around her shoulders, Eric could clearly see the damage. He glared at Immanuel. "Doesn't she need something around her, covering her clothes?"

"Eric, since I'm all smelly and smoky and covered with fire extinguisher stuff, I don't think keeping my clothes free of burned hair is a big deal."

Even if he hadn't heard the exasperation in her voice, he would have felt it pounding through his blood. He forced himself to relax. Taking his unspoken frustrations out on Sookie would accomplish nothing.

They let Immanuel work in silence, the snip snip of his scissors the only sound in the room. After a while, he stepped back to regard his work.

"You need to go shower now and come back with clean, wet hair," he instructed Sookie. "After that, I'll even it up." She hopped off the stool, and clippings slid from her shoulders and arms to join the hair on the floor. "Where's your broom, your dustpan?"

"That closet over there," she said, pointing. "Be right back."

After she left them, Immanuel swept up what he'd cut so far, Pam busied herself texting, and Eric drummed the pads of his fingertips on the table, lost in thought.

The trouble at the shifter's bar had been a distraction, but he certainly had not forgotten what Pam had said earlier about Sookie needing a "real" husband. Would it really be better for her if he went to Freyda and left Sookie to live a "normal" life, the kind of life she often claimed to want? He could not think so, but what if he were blinded by his own desire for her?

Immanuel had been keeping himself entertained by grooming Pam until she set down her phone and went to the refrigerator.

"Who else wants something?" she asked. "Sookie's got blood and soda."

"I'll take a Coke," Immanuel said.

"Eric?"

He waved his hand. "I'll have something later."

Pam disregarded what he said and put two bottles of blood in the microwave. "You need something to do," she said when she handed it to him. "You're driving me crazy."

Sookie returned ten minutes later in pajamas. Now that the burnt odor was nearly gone, her natural, sweet smell – along with the scents of her shampoo and soap – wafted in with her. Eric traced his tongue along the ridge of his teeth, wishing Pam and Immanuel miles away.

"I'm ready now," she said. Her voice was tired and resigned.

As Immanuel prepared to finish Sookie's hair, Pam nudged Eric's arm and showed him the screen of her phone.

Final appeal in matter of Pamela Ravenscroft vs. Victor Madden rejected. Parties to receive written confirmation within 48 hours.

Their eyes met. He felt her pain distinctly through their blood connection, but her eyes were as hard and cold as ever. Whatever part of Pam had been warmed by Miriam, it had died. He looked away from her and back at Sookie, who was trying to smile at him. Her gaze shifted to Pam, and she frowned.

"What's up, Pam? Someone sending you a nasty text?"

Pam closed her phone with a loud snap and slid it away from herself angrily. "Nothing's up. Absolutely nothing is happening. Victor is still our leader. Our position doesn't improve. Our requests go unanswered. Where is Felipe? We need him."

"Enough," Eric breathed so that only she could hear.

"Chill out, guys," Sookie said. There was a tinge of anger, but he felt mostly concern from her.

"And what is it with all the crap sitting out in your driveway, to say nothing of your living room and your porch?" Pam demanded. "Are you having a garage sale?"

Immanuel looked as if he wanted to run away from all three of them and never look back. "Almost… finished…" he mumbled.

Sookie attempted another smile. "Pam, that all came out of my attic. Claude and Dermot are helping me clean it out. I'm going to see an antiques dealer with Sam in the morning." She paused. "Well… we were going to go. I don't know if Sam'll be able to make it now."

As if she had barely been listening to Sookie, Pam whirled on Eric. "There, see! She lives with other men. She goes shopping with other men. What kind of husband are you?"

His body reacted before his mind caught up with it. In a matter of seconds, he and Pam were a snarling, ripping tangle on Sookie's kitchen floor. Some small corner of his brain processed the fact that Sookie and Immanuel had quickly escaped the room.

He didn't know how long they bit and tore and clawed at each other, but he did know that it felt good – more empowering and cathartic than anything had felt in a very long time. Pam was as tired of feeling helpless as he was, and her eyes flashed with pleasure at every drop of blood she drew. No doubt she saw the same pleasure in his eyes with each snap of his fangs. She punched him until he could taste his own blood in his mouth, and then he rolled on top of her to return her punches with his own.

Suddenly, they were both doused with cold water, torn out of their violent trance by Sookie, who stood over them with a pitcher. She scowled at them before she stormed out of the kitchen.

They sat in a quiet daze for a minute, and then Eric stood and offered his hand to Pam, who stumbled slightly on a broken heel. He winced as they both surveyed the damage to Sookie's formerly clean and tidy kitchen.

Pam used the back of her hand to wipe away some blood from around her mouth. "Oops."

"I will pay to fix it all," he said. "Any broken bones?"

She flexed her fingers and her neck. "No. But I see that I broke your nose." She moved to fix it, but he did it himself with a quick twist of his fingers. "I really needed that," she said.

"We both did."

They walked around the room to gather up the bits and pieces of their clothing and jewelry that had been strewn about. He took Pam's wrist as she reached for the broom.

"Leave it," Eric said. "I'll take care of it once Sookie goes to sleep."

She nodded. "Eric… I didn't mean to say that you are a bad husband."

"I know what you meant."

"Do you?"

"Yes. And I am sorry – truly sorry – about Miriam."

"I think I'm going to side with you on this," she said, shaking back her tangled hair. "There is always a way out. We just have to find it." They started forward to leave the kitchen. "I still think you need to tell Sookie, though," she threw in.

They found Immanuel and Sookie sitting in the living room. Eric didn't need the blood bond to tell him that she was furious; it was written all over her face. She ran her eyes over the two of them with disgust, and he couldn't really blame her. He started to assure her that he would take care of the damage, but she spoke first.

"I don't know what that was about, but I'm too tired to care. You two are liable for anything you broke, and I want you to leave this house right now." She stood up and walked towards them. "I'll rescind your invitation if I have to." Eric could hear and smell that her fairy cousins had returned, and he knew there was no use arguing with her after what he and Pam had done, but still he didn't move. She walked past them into the hallway. "Out the front door. Shoo! Thanks for the haircut, Immanuel," she said. "Eric, I appreciate your thinking about my hair care needs. It would have been nice if you had thought a little longer before you trashed my kitchen."

All three of them were well and truly dismissed, then. Immanuel and Pam followed her to the door and went outside as she held it open. Eric stopped in front of her and laid his hand on her arm.

"I would hold you while you sleep," he said gently. "Were you hurt? I'm sorry."

She was unmoved. "You need to go home now, Eric. We'll talk when you can control yourself."

Control himself? He had spent the past miserable months controlling himself as Victor, Appius, and now Freyda took their turns having him at their beck and call. Not that that was an acceptable excuse for himself and Pam to beat each other in her kitchen after she had already had a terrible night. Yes, he would control himself right now by doing as she asked and leaving.

He stepped out onto the porch and turned back to her. "I'll talk to you soon, my wife," he said. My wife, no matter what anyone else says.

She responded by shrugging one shoulder and closing the door.

Chapter Text

Eric left instructions for one of the daytime employees to take Fangtasia's business credit card to Sears and use it to purchase the best toaster they had. "Leave receipt on my desk," he finished before inking the large "E" with which he signed most of his paperwork. He remembered seeing Sookie's toaster – or the pieces of it, at any rate – on the kitchen floor before they had left. Any other damages would have to wait until he could ascertain what they were.

He anticipated being buried in business concerns for the rest of that night and the one following. Such matters, even when dull, had rarely if ever been unpleasant. But they were now, thanks to Victor's new establishment near the interstate. Vampire's Kiss. Fangtasia's revenue had plummeted in a matter of weeks, and it was only trending lower. If Eric couldn't turn the numbers around within a couple of months, Fangtasia would close the year at a loss.

A good leader would never dream of compromising the financial success of one of his state's most prominent representatives. A good leader would have located the new bar in a region where vampires had not yet gained a financial foothold. But there were good leaders, and then there was Victor. Eric gritted his teeth.

As he shuffled through his mail, one square red envelope stood out from the others. Eric didn't need to look to see the sender. He ripped it open and scanned the "invitation" – his presence required on the night of… flowery bullshit… bring his wife… bring Pam… et cetera… more bullshit.

And fuck you, Victor.

"Please tell me I don't have to go to whatever that is," Pam said, eyeing him from the leather couch.

"'I also humbly request the presence of your enchanting progeny, Miss Ravenscroft,'" Eric read aloud from the card.

At least the look on Pam's face was something to enjoy.

By bribing her with a new dress of her own, he convinced her to go out and find a dress for Sookie. From Shreveport's handful of department stores and boutiques, Pam texted him picture after picture until he finally approved of an elegant, metallic-colored dress that seemed designed specifically for the purpose of making Sookie Stackhouse look like a goddess.

On the night they were to make their unhappy pilgrimage to Vampire's Kiss, Eric sent a quick text to Sookie so that she would be expecting him when she got home. She didn't answer, but that was better than a "No." He called and arranged for Immanuel to meet him at Sookie's house – paying an exorbitant amount since Immanuel claimed that he would have to cancel some appointments. Eric doubted this, but he was in no mood to argue.

He put the toaster and the dress into his business car and drove to Bon Temps at what the humans would call a "reasonable speed." Sookie was still at work when he reached her house, so he took the toaster from the front seat and went to wait on her porch. Rocking idly on her porch swing, holding a toaster, waiting for his date, he felt pleasantly human. He would have considered that expression an oxymoron until very recently.

Sookie was happy to see him. She was being careful not to show it, but her blood couldn't lie. She arched one eyebrow as she approached the porch swing. "To what do I owe the honor?"

He handed her the toaster. The red bow on the box had been his own touch. "We haven't had any fun lately," he said.

She walked to the door to unlock it as he continued to regard her from the swing. "Between me putting out a fire and you attacking Pam? Yeah, I'd say that was a fair statement." Her smile, along with the happiness he could feel glowing inside her, made her words all but meaningless. "Thanks for the replacement toaster, though I wouldn't classify that as fun," she continued, turning the box in her hands to study it. "What do you have in mind?"

The swing creaked as he stood and joined her at the door. He leaned in close to her and purred, "Later, of course, I have spectacular sex in mind. I've thought of a position we haven't tried yet."

Her breath caught, and he took the opportunity to push open the door. He gestured for her to go in first, and she blinked. Whatever she had been thinking of, it had colored her cheeks very nicely. She walked inside and set the toaster box on her kitchen counter as he shut the door behind them and laid her keys next to the toaster.

"What do you have in mind before the spectacular sex?"

He was tempted – very tempted – to say, "Nothing, really," and go straight to the sex. Not for the first time that night, he silently cursed Victor Madden.

"We have to visit a new dance club." The moment he said it, he knew that his effort to sound completely happy about it had failed. "That's what they're calling it," he added quickly, running his hands down her arms, "to try to bring in the young people who look pretty. Like you."

The flattery got him nowhere. "Where is this dance club?" she asked.

She stepped away from him, and for a moment he worried that she was going to refuse. Instead, she started for her room, pulling out her tucked-in work shirt as she walked. He followed her.

"It's between here and Shreveport." Out with it, he told himself. "Victor just opened it."

"Oh," she said. She pulled the shirt over her head and began to unzip her shorts. "Is it smart for you to go there?"

"It's not smart to go to this club, but we don't have a choice. Victor has ordered me to make an appearance with my wife." He sat on the edge of her bed and watched as she looked through her closet, sliding over hanger after hanger. "He'll think I'm afraid of him if I don't bring you."

He leaned back against the pillows and clasped his hands behind his head. For a few seconds or minutes – he didn't know how long – he was lost in his own thoughts. A sigh from Sookie, and a particularly loud, metallic scrape from one of the hangers, and he sat upright, feeling like an idiot. "There's something in my car, I forgot," he said. He raced to the car and lifted the dress and his own change of clothes from the backseat, then sped back to Sookie. He held up the hanger so that she could see the dress through its clear garment bag.

Her eyes widened. "What? It's not my birthday."

In pulling her work shirt over her head, she had sent some strands of her hair wildly astray, and he smoothed them back behind her ear. "Can't a vampire give his lover a present?" he asked, smiling at her.

She returned his smile and reached for the hanger. "Well, yes, he can." She pulled off the bag and held up the dress, turning it before her eyes. "This is…" She gaped. "Is this the whole thing?"

He flashed his fangs at her in a broad grin. "You will look wonderful. Everyone will envy me."

Sookie draped the dress over her arm and reached for him to kiss her, which he was happy to do. "Gonna take a quick shower," she murmured, giving him one last, brief kiss. She hung the dress on her closet door and disappeared into her bathroom, and Eric returned to the kitchen to wait for Immanuel, who was running a few minutes late.

When the unfortunately coifed young man arrived, Eric led him to Sookie's room and indicated her vanity table. They heard the water stop, and Sookie emerged a couple of minutes later in her bathrobe. She seemed startled to see Immanuel there with him, and Eric realized that he should have told her. His mind was scattered tonight, and that would simply not do, especially once they reached Victor's bar.

Immanuel set to work, first drying and styling her hair, and then applying her make-up. She was obviously pleased with the result as she turned her head this way and that for the mirror.

"Thank you," she breathed, smiling at Immanuel's reflection behind her.

Immanuel nodded and began to put away his things. "You're welcome. You've got great skin. I like working on you."

Sookie's great skin flushed down to her neck and possibly further, and Eric weighed the consequences of tossing Immanuel out of the window and having Sookie right there against the vanity.

"Please leave a card," she told Immanuel, and he gave her one. "How's your sister?" she asked him.

Eric already knew that Miriam was bad – worse than when Pam had last visited. In fact, Pam had been furious that she couldn't cancel her appearance at Victor's bar and go to Miriam instead.

"She had a good day today. Thanks for asking," Immanuel told Sookie.

Once Immanuel had left, Sookie rummaged through her dresser and withdrew some lingerie so scanty that Eric wondered how she could have been charged for it. He watched her every movement as she shrugged off her bathrobe, stepped into her thong, reached around to hook her bra. Unable to resist, he slid his palm over her thigh, splaying his fingers dangerously close to the edge of the lacy scrap of material that left little to his imagination.

"So smooth…" He looked up at her with lust in his eyes.

"Hey," she smiled, swatting his hand away, "you keep doing that, we won't get to the club, and all this preparation will have gone to waste."

He stood and traced the top edge of her strapless bra with one fingertip. "Not entirely to waste…"

She giggled and swatted his hand away again, and she only stepped back within his reach when she needed his help to finish putting on her dress. He had been right: it looked stunning on her. He picked up his own clothes, which he had tossed on the bed, and changed into them. Pam had selected a dark suit with a bronze-colored tie that matched Sookie's dress perfectly.

"C'mere," Sookie said.

She motioned for him to sit in front of her vanity. He watched her in the mirror as she braided his hair and secured it with a black ribbon from one of the drawers. When their eyes met in the reflection, hers were full of approval and affection.

She reached for his hand. "Let's get this show on the road."

Chapter Text

The way Sookie's body moved in her new dress as they walked to the door fanned Eric's bitterness that the two of them couldn't enjoy this evening alone together. He opened the door and stood aside as Sookie walked past him into the humid summer heat.

"How are the new vamps working out?" she asked him.

He knew that she was trying to make conversation, but he was unable to summon a moment's interest in the subject. "They come in when they're supposed to and put in their bar time."

"What's wrong with them?" She waited as he opened the car door. "You don't seem very excited about the addition to your ranks." After she had situated herself inside, he closed the door and went around to his side.

Even if he had been excited about the new vampires, they were the furthest thing from his thoughts on this night. He folded himself into the driver's seat and started the engine. "Palomino does well enough, but Rubio is stupid, and Parker is weak," he told her.

Sookie pulled out her seatbelt and buckled it, and he shifted the car into gear. From the corner of his eye, he could see that she was looking at him.

"You want to talk to me about the argument between you and Pam?" she asked.

"No."

"All right," Sookie sighed after a long, uncomfortable silence. "Okey dokey. Have it your way." She was looking straight ahead now, her arms folded. "But I think the sex will be a few degrees less spectacular if I'm worried about you and Pam." He turned and glared at her. Telling her to drop it was useless, so he would simply have to wait until she decided to do so on her own. But she was like a kitten batting at a loose thread. "I know that Pam wants to make another vampire… I understand there's a time element involved."

He relaxed somewhat; she was "barking up the wrong tree," as the humans said, and he certainly wasn't going to stop her. "Immanuel shouldn't have talked," was all he said.

"It was nice to have someone actually share information with me," she shot back. "Information directly pertaining to people I care about." Her tone wasn't petulant or bitter, but earnest with a trace of hurt. It was the hurt that suffused the bond between them.

He didn't want to talk about Pam; he felt her pain almost as keenly as she did, and it wasn't the best idea to stir up his anger towards Victor on this of all nights. But, at the very least, he could assure Sookie that he wasn't the one responsible for Pam's suffering. "Sookie, Victor has said I can't give permission for Pam to make a child," he told her. He bit his tongue against the choice words he could have said on the matter.

"Kings have control over reproduction, I guess?"

He nodded, his eyes fixed on the road ahead. "Yes, absolute control. But you understand that Pam is giving me hell about this, and so is Victor."

Sookie reached over and laid her hand on his knee. Even through the material of his pants, he could feel the warmth of her. "Victor isn't a king, really, is he?" she asked. "Maybe if you went directly to Felipe…?"

"Every time I bypass Victor, he finds a way to punish me," he said. And Felipe is dead, for all I know.

They sat in tense silence for a while, and then Sookie said brightly, "I've got some antiques dealers coming by tomorrow to look at the stuff we brought down from the attic."

He glanced at her and smiled. "Do you think there is anything valuable?"

"I've really got no idea. I like to watch Antiques Roadshow sometimes, but I can never tell if something is really valuable or just plain junk." She laughed.

"No doubt your grandmother had many hidden treasures." He looked at her again, pleased that she was smiling.

They lapsed into quiet again, but this time it was comfortable. Eric allowed himself to relax his grip on the wheel and to anticipate their time together later, when all the unpleasantness with Victor was behind them. He let himself imagine that his chief concern for the evening was whether he wanted Sookie to keep her dress on or take it off. Of course, there was no reason not to have it both ways. A passionate, heated fuck against the wall – Sookie splendid with that dress hitched up and her legs wrapped around his waist and his mouth pressed to the swell of her breasts – and then he would take his time undressing her, savoring her, loving her. He made a mental note to himself not to rip the dress in his inevitable haste. The thong, obviously. But not the dress. He would want to see her in it again.

"Eric, you don't tell me everything about your business," she said suddenly, and he blinked out of his happy reverie. "Am I right?"

"You're right, but that's for many reasons, Sookie," he said, wondering what she was thinking. She already knew that there were things related to his position, related to his business, and related to other vampires that he could never tell her. She had known this for a very long time. Why the question? "Most important is that some of it you could only worry about, and the rest of it might put you in danger. Knowledge isn't always power." Sookie didn't reply. "There's also the fact that I'm not used to sharing my daily concerns with a human, and it's hard to break the habit after a thousand years." It's hard to break the habit of assuming no one really cares. "But you tell me everything, my lover, don't you?" he asked. He turned to her and winked, but she wasn't smiling. He had meant to tease her… to remind her that no couple told each other everything. But her expression seemed to suggest that there were important things she kept from him. "You don't?" He took a moment to absorb this, to wonder what he didn't know. "That's an unexpected twist. And yet, we say we love each other."

"We say we do, and I do love you," she said. "But I'm beginning to see that being in love doesn't mean sharing as much as I thought we would." He didn't know how to answer that, so he didn't. They passed the exit for Victor's new diner, and Sookie muttered, "Crap. There sits all of Merlotte's business. What do they have that we haven't got?"

Eric shrugged. "Entertainment. The novelty of being the new place. Waitresses in hot pants and halter tops."

"Oh, stop." She sighed, and he could see her twisting her hands in her lap. "What with the trouble about Sam being a shapeshifter and all other other stuff, I don't know how much longer Merlotte's can hold out."

He couldn't help smiling. "Oh, then you would have no job. You could work for me at Fangtasia."

Before he could turn to grin at her, she snapped, "No, thank you." He frowned at the road ahead. "I would hate to see the fangbangers come in night after night, always wanting what they shouldn't have. It's just sad and bad."

"That's how I make my money, Sookie," he said, looking at her briefly before turning back to the road. "On the perverse dreams and fantasies of humans. Most of those humans are tourists who visit Fangtasia once or twice and then go back to Minden or Emerson and tell their neighbors about their walk on the wild side. Or they're people from the Air Force base who like to show how tough they are by drinking at a vampire bar."

In his opinion, most of Fangtasia's customers visited for the same reason they would visit an amusement park or even the zoo. He doubted whether Sookie would think it "sad and bad" to visit either of those places. And she couldn't possibly object to it being a bar when she herself worked at a bar. Her revulsion both baffled and irritated him.

She sighed. "I understand that, and I know if fangbangers don't come to Fangtasia, they'll go somewhere else they can hang around with vampires." Like Victor's new bar, Eric thought bitterly. "But I don't think I'd like the ambience on a day-to-day basis."

The ambience. That, at least, he could partly understand. Fangtasia was darkly lit with dark music and dark people. He remembered the way Sookie had stood out on her first visit, a candle in a coal mine. No, he couldn't picture Sookie wearing costumes such as Pam's, titillating the clientele, both human and vampire.

"What would you do, then, if Merlotte's closed?" he asked her.

"I'd try to get another waitressing job… maybe at the Crawdad Diner. The tips wouldn't be as good as at a bar, but the aggravation would be less." She paused, and Eric started to ask her why she sold herself so short – why she didn't consider putting her intelligence and talents to better use. "And…" she continued thoughtfully, slowly, "maybe I'd try to take some online classes and get some kind of degree." He glanced at her and saw the curve of a smile on her face. "That would be nice, to have more education."

This pleased him, and he wondered what had held her back for so long. Money, no doubt. "You didn't mention contacting your great-grandfather," he pointed out. "He could make sure you never wanted for anything." He chose not to add: So could I. He knew she would find it unacceptable.

"I'm not sure I could – contact him, that is," she mused. "I guess Claude would know how. In fact, I'm sure he would. But Niall made it pretty clear he thought staying in touch wouldn't be a good idea." Eric couldn't disagree on that point. "Eric, do you think Claude has an ulterior motive for coming to live with me?"

Her question was earnest, and Eric fought back a smile. "Of course he does. Dermot, too. I only wonder that you need to ask."

This silenced her for a few minutes. Her sweetness and her faith in people were admirable qualities, but not when dealing with supernatural creatures who had no compunction about using her or – worse – harming her. He himself had used her. He was using her tonight. Such reflections did little to help his mood.

He bore right onto the exit for Vampire's Kiss and turned onto the frontage road. The bar was brightly lit, and Eric could already see that the parking lot was full. He realized that he would break the steering wheel if he gripped it any tighter, and he loosened his hold.

Sookie was looking out of her window. "Aren't you afraid that people who would have driven on into Shreveport to go to Fangtasia are just going to pull off when they see this club?"

She didn't know yet about his serious business problems, and it would be easy enough to brush aside her concern. But it was no use hiding the truth from her.

"Yes," he said frankly.

He circled the parking lot a few times until a cramped space opened up several rows back from the entrance. Slamming the gear shift into park, he killed the engine and opened his door. The lot was relatively quiet as he stepped out and shut his door. He cast his eyes over the lot as he walked around to help Sookie out.

"Who's in the parking lot, lover?" he murmured as she turned in her seat and unfolded her legs.

She took the hand he offered and stood. She closed her eyes as she listened, while he closed her door and locked the car. Bracing his hand against the car, he waited. After a few more moments, she opened her eyes and looked up at him, laying her hand over his. Naturally, she could feel his tension.

"A couple having sex in a car two rows away… a man throwing up behind the black pickup on the other side of the parking lot… two couples just pulling in, in an Escalade… one vampire by the door to the club…" Her fingers squeezed his hand. "Another vampire, closing fast."

He bared his fangs and spun around, but the vampire joining them was Pam.

"Master," she said, bowing her head slightly. "I came ahead as you bid me."

The wind was strong, and as it blew Pam's long, thick hair back from her face, he could see that she had been in a fight.

Sookie, who had been peering around his arm, said, "Pam, step into the light."

Pam's expression was stony as she moved into the circle of the light under which Eric had parked. Eric felt Sookie's fingers tighten on his arm. In the light, he could see that she hadn't merely been in a fight; she had been badly beaten.

After taking a second to measure his voice, he said, "What happened to you?"

"I told the door guards that I needed to come in to make sure Victor knew you were arriving," she said, holding her chin high as if the bruises were a badge of honor. "An excuse to make sure that the interior was secure."

"They prevented you," he said, equally stoic.

"Yes."

The wind gusted again as they looked at each other. What he wanted to do was storm up to the door and beat the shit out of anyone who stood in his way. Pam obviously felt the same way. But humble acceptance was the only option they had, and it was a galling one.

"We have to go in, or they'll send someone after us," he said.

He stood aside to let Sookie walk past, and he took her hand as they followed Pam to the door. "Not mine," Pam said darkly as they passed a worker cleaning blood from the gravel.

"Sheriff Eric, I am Ana Lyudmila," said the vampire at the door. "I welcome you to Vampire's Kiss."

Eric did not respond, giving Ana a significant look that clearly implied he was waiting for her to acknowledge his companions. She obviously knew who they were.

Sookie, who had never been one to tolerate rudeness, took a step forward and said in a bright voice – the sort of bright voice which a Southern woman uses to say Fuck you politely – "Hi, I'm Sookie. I'm married to Eric. I guess you didn't know that? And this is Pam, Eric's child and his strong right arm. I guess you didn't know that, either? 'Cause otherwise, not greeting us appropriately is just plain rude."

The expression on Ana's face was almost enough to coax a smile from Eric in spite of his mood. Almost. She forced a smile. "Welcome, human wife of Eric and revered fighter Pam. I apologize for failing to offer you a suitable greeting."

Pam did not look at all pacified, but Sookie lightly punched her shoulder and replied, "We're cool, Ana Lyudmila. It's all good here."

At this point, Pam seemed ready to kill both Ana and Sookie, and Sookie looked up at Eric as if to say, "A little help here?"

Eric set his shoulders and eyed Ana with the regard he might give to a slug. "I think your master is waiting for us."

"Y-yes, of course," she said, laughing awkwardly. She called over her shoulder for two vampires named Luis and Antonio, who appeared at her side in an instant.

The larger one nodded at Eric, Pam, and Sookie in turn and said, "Follow us, please."

Eric walked straight at the door, forcing Ana to jump out of his way or be shoved aside. The bar was even more crowded than the parking lot suggested. This evening was to be a performance, and he summoned all his inner resources to play his part. I am happy to be here. He winked at one of the waitresses. I am happy – no, delighted – to be here. Not concerned with the amount of business. Not worried about seeing Victor. Happy, delighted.

"How are your three friends, the ones who prevented me from entering?" he heard Pam ask behind him. He didn't listen to the reply.

As the crowd parted for them, he could see Victor. He reached behind for Sookie's hand, and she threaded her warm fingers through his. He pulled her up to walk beside him, draping his arm across her shoulders. He wanted her as close as possible in case Victor had anything planned.

One of Victor's human playthings moved aside, and Eric saw Miriam, who looked ill and frightened. He bit his tongue, but he heard Pam whisper Miriam's name. This cruelty on Victor's part angered him more than anything else had. Eric had never seen Pam beg until the last night they had gone to Victor; on that night she had knelt at Victor's feet to plead for Miriam's life, and the debasement of his proud, beautiful child, along with her intense misery, had been almost impossible to bear. Only Sookie's suffering at the hands of the fairies had affected him more deeply in his thousand years. For Victor to display Miriam in such a way tonight was nothing less than sadistic. Eric felt his carefully maintained nonchalance crumbling away, and he fought to keep it.

"Eric!" Victor pronounced with a broad grin. "How good to see you in my new enterprise! Do you like the décor?" He swept his arm out before reaching for his drink.

Apart from noticing tacky cut-outs of Bubba, Eric hadn't paid much attention to the decorations. He had been too busy cataloging vampires, exits, and potential weapons. "I'm amazed," he replied. It wouldn't have convinced the most oblivious child, but Victor didn't seem to care.

"Pardon my bad manners," Victor said, setting his drink aside again. "Please have a seat. My companions are…" He looked at the young woman simpering at his side. "Your name, sweetness?"

"I'm Mindy Simpson. This is my husband, Mark Simpson."

Eric would be surprised if Victor had absorbed either of those two names. The regent was eyeing Sookie as they took their places. "I see you have your dear wife with you," he said. Victor was oozing charm the way a wound oozed pus, and it was just as distasteful.

"Yeah, I'm here," Sookie sighed.

Unfazed by Sookie's obvious lack of enthusiasm, Victor added, "And your famous second, Pam Ravenscroft."

For a moment, the group sat in uncomfortable silence. Pam looked close to tears, and Eric berated himself for his inability to summon any of his usual composure. That had been happening far too often for his liking since the blood bond.

He felt Sookie's hand tighten in his. "How long has Vampire's Kiss been open?" she asked. She had shifted into church picnic mode, playing Victor's little game right along with him, and Eric hoped she could feel his gratitude.

"You didn't see all my advance publicity?" Victor replied, looking bored. "Only three weeks, but so far it's been quite the success."

"Do you spend a lot of time here?" she pressed. "I'm surprised they don't need you in New Orleans more often." Eric glanced at Sookie, but she was smiling as innocently as an angel.

Victor was unperturbed. "Sophie-Anne saw fit to remain permanently based in New Orleans, but I see my rule as more of a floating government." Floating wherever you can best disturb me, Eric thought. "I like to keep a firm hand on all that goes on in Louisiana, especially since I find I am simply a regent, holding the state for Felipe, my dear king."

Never averse to pricking an already open wound, Eric said mildly, "My felicitations on becoming regent."

"You're very welcome," Victor said, as if Eric had thanked him for something. Eric couldn't imagine what he had to thank Victor for. "Yes, Felipe has decreed I should style myself 'regent.' It's so unusual for a king to have amassed as many territories as Felipe has, and he's taken his time deciding what to do. He has decided to keep all the titles for himself."

"And will you be regent of Arkansas, too?" Pam asked.

Victor scowled. "No. Red Rita has been given that honor."

"She's a great fighter, a strong vampire," Eric said to Sookie, as much for her benefit as to needle Victor. "She's a good choice to rebuild Arkansas."

"Yes, of course," Victor said. His fake, bitter smile pleased Eric; in spite of everything, they seemed to be getting an upper hand by playing on his insecurities. "While she's settling in next door, I thought it would be appropriate to build up the area of Louisiana that abuts her territory. I opened the human place and this one."

"You own Vic's Redneck Roadhouse," Sookie said, sounding miserable. Eric had assumed that she'd put two and two together before now.

"Yes. You've been by?"

Sookie shrugged. "Nope. Too busy."

"But I heard business at Merlotte's has fallen off?" Victor asked, raising an eyebrow. He shot a glance at Eric before adding, "If you need a job, Sookie, I'll put in a good word with my manager at the Redneck Roadhouse. Unless you'd prefer to work here?" He grinned. "Wouldn't that be fun?"

If he hadn't felt the soothing calm that Sookie was trying to convey to him, he might have said or done something regrettable. He forced himself to sound dismissive, unaffected. "Sookie is well-suited where she works now, Victor. If she were not, she would come to live with me and perhaps work at Fangtasia." Both of which she should do anyway, he thought, not without a tinge of bitterness. "She is a modern American woman and used to supporting herself." It was time to turn the tables back on Victor and regain the upper hand in this conversation. "While I'm discussing my female associates, Pam tells me that you disciplined her. It's not customary to discipline a sheriff's second. Surely that should be left for her master to do."

"You weren't here, and she showed my doormen great disrespect by insisting she should come inside before you did for a security check," Victor replied without a hint of apology or concern. "As if we would permit anything in our club to threaten our most powerful sheriff!"

Eric actually wished that Pam had not tried to perform a security check; it sent the message that they were worried about this evening – a message he did not want to send. But he could hardly blame her. They knew too well that Victor wanted him dead, the sooner the better.

"Did you have business you wanted to discuss?" he asked. Surely they had had the booming business and poor Miriam shoved in their faces long enough to satisfy Victor. Eric's only consolation of the evening was the thought of spending the rest of it with Sookie in his arms. "Not that it isn't wonderful seeing what you've done here, however…" He let his voice trail off, giving Victor a pointed look.

"Of course! Thanks for reminding me." Victor reached for his drink again. "I'm sorry I haven't offered you a drink yet. Some blood for you, Eric? Pam?"

Pam refused the offer with a slight motion of her head. She looked even more miserable than Eric felt, which was understandable. Eric tried to imagine seeing Sookie, ill and dying, on display for Victor's amusement. Just the thought of it pained him.

He raised one hand. "Thank you for the offer, Victor, but-"

"I know you'll raise a glass with me," Victor interrupted, and Eric could see that they weren't being given a choice. "The law prevents me from offering you a drink from Mindy or Mark, since they're not registered donors, and I'm all about being law-abiding." His white teeth almost glowed in the bar's lighting. "Sookie, what will you have?"

"Oh, I'm not thirsty," she said. "I had a coke on the way up here."

In under a minute, a tray was set before them with the requested bottles of True Blood and a pair of glasses. Noticing Eric's eyes on the glasses, Victor said, "I'm sure the bottles don't appeal to your aesthetic sense. They offend me."

The idea of "aesthetic sense" from someone whose bar was decorated with cut-outs of Bubba was laughable, but Eric didn't reply. He opened his bottle and was about to pour some of the blood into a glass when his own blood flared with caution. It was coming from Sookie. Without hesitating or glancing at her, he pretended that he had simply been studying the bottle.

He shrugged and gave Victor an easy smile. "I have nothing against American packaging as you do." Then he drank from his bottle. The expression on Victor's face, however fleeting, cheered him.

Sookie's relief was palpable only to him, coursing through his veins. Thank you, dear one, he thought. When they finally left this place and returned home, he would repay her with pleasure.

Victor draped his arm over the back of the banquette and tried to look bored. He failed miserably. "Have you seen your great-grandfather recently, Sookie?" he asked her.

Stiffening, Eric tightened his grip on the True Blood bottle.

"Not in the past couple of weeks," she replied.

Once again, Victor's teeth flashed under the lights as he smiled. "But you have two of your kind living in your house."

It was Sookie's turn to look bored, and unlike Victor, she rather succeeded – partly because Eric sent her strength through the bond. She waved her hand in dismissal. "Yes, my cousin and my great-uncle are staying with me for a while."

"I wondered if you might be able to give me some insight into the state of fairy politics," Victor said. He reached to sip from his blood.

Sookie laughed. "Not me! I stay away from politics."

"Truly?" Victor raised his eyebrows. "Even after your ordeal?"

Eric bit his tongue and tasted blood. Underneath Sookie's composure, he could feel her pain.

"Yep, even after my ordeal. I'm just not a political animal," she said.

Victor's lip curled up on one side. "But an animal."

Fortunately, Eric had set down his bottle of blood. He would have crushed it in his hand otherwise. A soothing calm washed over him, and he knew it was from Sookie. It most certainly was not his own.

Sookie gave Victor an easy smile, as if the insult meant nothing to her. "That's me. Hot-blooded, breathing… I could even lactate. The whole mammal package."

Victor's face twisted in disgust, and that pacified Eric more than anything else. Sookie had bested him.

Pam set her own bottle of blood back on the tray. It looked like she had taken only a sip or two, if that. "Did we have anything further to discuss, Regent?" she asked. Eric liked the subtle emphasis she placed on that last word. "I'll be glad to stay as late as you want, or as long as my words please you, but I am due to work at Fangtasia tonight, and my master Eric has a meeting to attend." Yes, a meeting in Sookie's bedroom, where they would erase this foul memory from each other's minds. "And apparently, my friend Miriam is the worse for wear tonight, and I'll take her home with me to sleep it off."

It was more than Pam had said all evening, and Eric got the distinct impression that she had been storing up the poise and mental clarity to say it as lightly as she did.

"Oh, do you know her?" Victor asked, glancing at Miriam. "Yes, I believe someone mentioned that. Eric, is this the woman you told me Pam wanted to bring over?" You know full well it is, you fucking son of a bitch. "I'm so sorry I had to say no, since by my reckoning she may not have too long to live." He paused, but if he was waiting for some response from Eric or Pam, he didn't get the satisfaction. He waved his hand. "You may go, since I've given you the news about my regency, and you've seen my beautiful club." Just as they made to stand up, he continued, "Oh! I'm thinking of opening a tattoo establishment – and maybe a lawyer's office, though my man for that post has to study modern law. He received his law degree in Paris in the 1800s." Victor gave a shallow, brief laugh, and then his face hardened as his eyes locked on Eric's. "You know that as regent, I have the right to open a business in anyone's sheriffdom. All the money from the new clubs will come directly to me. I hope your revenues don't suffer too much, Eric."

"Not at all. We're all a part of your turf, Master." The words sounded defeated and hollow, but he was concentrating solely on getting the hell out.

Sookie's hand slid into his, and he clasped it tightly as they stood to leave. He and Sookie waited to the side of Victor's platform as Pam went to retrieve her Miriam, who looked frailer than Eric had ever seen her.

The four of them followed Luis and Antonio back into the heavy, humid air of the summer night. But once they reached the parking lot and headed for their cars, Eric realized that the bouncers were now following them. Holding Sookie partly behind him, Eric stopped and turned.

"Do you two have something to say to me?"

Off to the side, Miriam wept. Sookie's fingers tightened on Eric's arm.

"It wasn't our idea, sheriff."

"We're loyal to Felipe, our true king," the other added. "But Victor is not easy to serve."

They continued on in this vein, insisting that they didn't like serving Victor, that he was a bad leader, even that they hated their leather costumes. Eric listened in unimpressed silence until they finished.

"If you're trying to lure me into betraying my new master," he said at last, speaking slowly, "you've picked the wrong vampire."

There was a brief silence; the two fools looked stunned that their ruse had failed.

"Leather shorts are attractive compared to the black synthetics I have to wear," Pam added for good measure.

The bouncers sneered at that. "You were supposed to be so fierce," Antonio hissed at her. "And you," he said, turning his scorn on Eric, "were supposed to be so bold."

With that, the two returned to the club. Eric gave a quick nod to Pam, who scooped Miriam into her arms, and they all hurried to Eric's car. He would send one of the day people for Pam's car in the morning. Once everyone was inside and the car was speeding along the frontage road, Eric gave in to his euphoric relief. Pam did, too, it seemed, for she laughed. Eric met her eyes in the rearview mirror and smiled. As miserable as the visit had been, they had gotten the better of Victor at every turn.

"Victor just can't restrain himself, making the show of my poor Miriam," Pam said.

"And then the priceless offer from the leather twins!"

"Did you see Antonio's face?" she asked with a derisive laugh. "Honestly! I haven't had so much fun since I flashed my fangs at that old woman who complained about the color I painted my house." To be fair to the old woman, Pam had chosen a hideous shade of pink.

"That'll give them something to think about." Eric turned to Sookie, who was sitting quietly. "That was a good moment. I can't believe he thought we'd fall for that."

Her flushed cheek and the anxiety in her blood told him that she had believed them. "What if Antonio and Luis were sincere? What if Victor had taken Miriam's blood or brought her over himself?"

"He couldn't," Pam answered her. "He had her in a public place, she has lots of human relatives, and he has to know I'd kill him if he did that."

"Not if you were dead first," Sookie said darkly. "And why are you both so sure that Antonio and Luis were making all that up just to see how you'd react?"

He assured her that if they had been serious, they would try again. "Tell me, lover, what was the problem with the drinks?" he asked her.

"The problem was that he'd rubbed the inside of the glasses with fairy blood. The human server, the guy with the gray eyes, gave me the tip-off."

The attempted poisoning wasn't the only troubling aspect of that explanation; how had the server known that he could communicate with Sookie?

"I don't think that amount could have caused us to behave in an uncontrollable way," Pam mused from the back seat.

"It was a cautious experiment," Eric said. "We might have attached anyone in the club, or we might have gone for Sookie, since she has that interesting streak of fairy." Perhaps that was why Victor had insisted on Sookie's presence? "We would have made public fools of ourselves in any case. We might have been arrested." He took his eyes briefly from the road again to look at Sookie. "It was an excellent thing that you stopped us, Sookie."

She shrugged. "I have my uses."

"And you're Eric's wife," Pam murmured in a tone which Eric did not like.

He shot her a warning glance.

"I-Is there something you want to tell me?" Sookie asked, looking first at Eric and then over her shoulder at Pam.

Pam leaned forward. "Eric got a letter-"

Before another word could escape her, Eric's hand was at her throat, crushing her voicebox. The car swerved with his sudden, violent movement, and Sookie cried out.

"Eyes ahead, Eric!" she said loudly, tugging on his arm to no avail. "Not with the fighting again. Look, just go on and tell me."

Only for the sake of Sookie's frail, mortal body did Eric pull onto the shoulder and shift the car into park. To their left, vehicles raced past, shaking the car. He turned in his seat.

"Pam, don't speak. That's an order." It was the first time in many years that he had used his ability to command her. Her eyes darkened until their blue rims were barely visible. There was no help for it; he could not have her driving Sookie away when the two of them needed each other more than ever. "Sookie," he said, unsuccessfully trying to dull the edge in his voice, "leave this be."

For once, she did as he asked.

An eighteen-wheeler rumbled past as they sat in wordless inertia. Eric could feel Sookie's fear, and it grieved him that the thing she feared was himself. If he did tell her about Oklahoma, would she listen? Would she understand how he had tried to fight – was still trying to fight?

She shivered and held her arms at the elbows, staring straight ahead at the highway. He saw her throat move as she swallowed. "Take me home," she said.

"Take me home," Miriam repeated from the back seat, her voice barely audible.

Eric slowly released his hold on Pam's throat. She touched her bruised skin with her fingertips, looking at him with undisguised fury. In her eyes he could see all the things she wanted to say to him, but she would have to wait until Sookie was safely home. He did not rescind his order for her to keep quiet.

No one spoke over the remaining miles. Occasionally, a sigh or sniffle would come from Miriam, but there was no other sound. In the rearview mirror, he saw Pam's angry, hurt eyes. To his right he felt Sookie's fear and anxiety. He focused on the road.

It was safe to say that his and Sookie's much-anticipated evening was now over. He imagined her stepping out of her new dress and hanging it in the closet. He imagined her taking off that little thong, which he had been looking forward to tearing off, but which would live to see another night. He tried not to picture her curling up in bed and closing her eyes. Those eyes should have been filled with happiness and pleasure, looking up at him – or down at him – as they loved each other.

He parked behind her house and watched as she stepped out of the car. She leaned down and said quietly, "Good night, Pam… Miriam." She glanced at him, but her eyes fell away. She shut the door. He waited until she had unlocked her door and gone inside her house before he pulled away.

"You may speak, Pam," he said.

"I have nothing to say to you," she replied.

Chapter Text

Pam did not come to work the next night, which was Saturday, one of their busiest nights of the week – though not lately, Eric reminded himself bitterly. He opened his phone and texted, "With Miriam?" Moments later, he received a "y" in response. Since she had two very good reasons to take the night off, those being Miriam and her anger at himself, and since he had no good reason to demand that she show up to their almost empty bar, he replied, "OK."

Fangtasia was depressing as hell, deserted and Pam-less. He decided against going to Bon Temps since the night before had been such a disaster. Instead, he busied himself with the accounts, working with the numbers every way he could think of to delay running the business at a loss. Nothing worked.

He felt a stab of fear from Sookie at one point, but it was over almost as soon as it began. Later, he felt her fall asleep, as he did every night. And he missed her, as he did every night.

On Sunday night, he arrived at the bar to find Pam already there. Their eyes met, and he cocked his head towards his office. She didn't look pleased about the summons, but she followed him inside and shut the door.

"Yes, Master?" she asked, her voice laced with ill-feeling.

"Don't," he said. "How did you leave Miriam?"

Pam's crossed arms now fell to her sides. Before this moment, Eric might have thought it impossible to look defeated while wearing skintight black leather and spiked heels. "Weak… She doesn't have long."

He paced towards his desk, then turned back again. "You don't have to stay here," he said at last. "You could take her away to some other area. No reasonable king or queen would deny your request. You have already done everything I asked and more."

"Fuck that," she interrupted. "I am not leaving you for a human." He stared at her in surprise, and she stared back as if she couldn't believe he was surprised. "Did you think I would?"

"You love her."

"She is nothing to me compared to you."

Eric could think of no response, none at all. He walked around and sat at his desk, and Pam, after standing and watching him for a short time, took one of the chairs facing him. He reached across the desk and handed her a thick stack of papers.

"This is the budget I've come up with," he told her. "Fangtasia is in the black until November. I have more than enough to keep the place afloat for years, even operating at a loss. That's not ideal, obviously, but…" He trailed off and watched in silence as she flipped through the pages. "Can you think of anything I've left out?"

She reached the last page and laid the budget back on the desk. "It's what I expected," she said. She folded her hands in her lap. "I want to talk about last night." He started to reply, but she held up her hand to stop him. "You have to tell Sookie the truth. You've exhausted your options, and she has the right to know. I'm only saying this because I've come to… care about her." As she spoke the word "care," Pam cringed as if she were saying something disgusting. "You insult her by not telling her."

"You can go," Eric replied.

When she reached the door, she turned around to look at him. "For me, there is no side but your side. You know that." She walked out into the bar and left the office door open.

There wasn't a customer in sight on Monday evening, but Eric had received word that Victor was thinking of dropping by. Wonderful, he thought as he deleted the e-mail.

It had been dark for less than an hour when a wave of fear from Sookie almost made his knees give way. Of all the emotions he had felt from her since they had exchanged blood, even since the first threads of her had wound their way into his blood in Dallas, fear was perhaps the most foreign to him. Unlike the moment of fear on Saturday night, this one did not go away quickly.

He made a signal to the bartender, rushed outside, and decided to take his car. Whatever had happened, he wanted to bring Sookie back to stay at his house tonight. But not just tonight.

Sookie's fear faded into calm as Eric was merging onto the interstate. Relieved, he slowed to only fifteen miles per hour over the speed limit. Sookie was just leaving the bar with the shifter and the war-damaged man when Eric walked around to the back of the building after parking in front. He leaned against a tree as he waited for her; he knew that she could feel him there.

After what seemed like ages, she emerged from the shifter's trailer, and he was at her side in a flash, holding her face under the lights. From all he could tell, she was unharmed.

"I want you to move in with me," he said, stroking her cheeks with his thumbs. "You can stay in one of the upstairs bedrooms if you want… the one we usually use. You don't have to stay down in the dark with me." He slid his hands down from her face to her arms. "I don't want you to be alone. I don't want to feel your fear one more time. It makes me crazy to know someone is attacking you, and I'm not there."

She closed her eyes, breathed deeply, and opened them again. "We need to talk. Do you have time?"

He thought of Victor's possible visit and decided that he didn't care at all if he missed it. Besides, wasn't his very presence enough to tell Sookie that he had come to be with her? "Tonight I'm making time," he replied. "Are the fairies at your house?"

"I don't know, actually," she said.

She reached for her phone and pressed one of the speed dial buttons. Her cousin confirmed that they were out for the night, and Eric walked Sookie to her car in the front lot of the bar. Once she had started the engine and pulled away, Eric went to his own car to follow her home.

They ended up on her sofa, he with a warmed bottle of True Blood that he didn't especially want, and Sookie with a glass of red wine. She was leaning against the arm on her end of the sofa, her smooth, tanned legs bridging the short distance between them. She had pushed her bare toes under his leg, and he found that endearing.

She took a small sip of her wine. "Eric, I know you don't ask people to stay in your house lightly," she said slowly, getting back to their conversation in the shifter's parking lot. "So… I want you to know how… touched and flattered I am that you invited me."

I have never asked anyone to stay in my house.

Because he could see that she was making a very real effort to consider his feelings, something she had not done often in the past, he paused to keep his anger at bay. "Oh, think nothing of it," he said. It sounded harsher than he had intended.

"I didn't say that right," she said, shaking her head. "Listen, I love you," she continued. Her face was earnest, and her words killed every trace of anger and frustration in him. "I feel thrilled that you want us to live together. But before I make up my mind whether to do that, we need to get some stuff straight."

"Stuff?" he asked.

He took an idle drink of True Blood as he waited for her to elaborate. At least they were talking about this; the last time he had brought it up, she had flatly refused and even insulted him. Now she was "thrilled." Slowly but surely, he was breaching the walls she had constructed to ward off the hurt that life and past relationships had taught her to expect.

"You married me to protect me," she began, and he nodded, for that had indeed been one of the reasons. "You hired Terry Bellefleur to spy on me, and you applied pressure where he couldn't take it to get him to comply."

Had she just learned of that tonight when he saw her and the shifter with the Bellefleur man? It had been so long ago, he had all but forgotten it. "That happened before I knew you, Sookie," he said.

"Yeah, I get that." She looked frustrated, as if she didn't know how to put her thoughts into words. "But it's the nature of the pressure you applied to a man whose mental state is so wobbly… it's the way you got me to marry you without knowing what I was doing."

"You wouldn't have done it otherwise," he said reasonably. And you would be in Las Vegas with Felipe, or you would be serving drinks for Victor at Vampire's Kiss.

She smiled a little. "You're right. I wouldn't. And Terry wouldn't have told you things about me if you'd offered him money. I know you see this as the smart way to do business, and I'm sure a lot of people would agree with you." Since you're alive and free, you should agree with me, too, he thought. Sookie sighed. "We're both living with this bond. I'm sure sometimes you would rather I didn't know what you're feeling." No."Would you be wanting me to live with you if we didn't have the bond? If you didn't feel it every time I was in danger or angry or afraid?"

Evidently, she believed that he wanted her only because he wanted to protect her. Did she not think to turn that equation around? Did she not understand that he wanted to protect her because he wanted her? Needed her. Loved her.

"What a strange thing to say, my lover," he said gently. He sipped from his True Blood once more and set it aside, then turned back to her, pulling her feet up into his lap. "Are you saying that if I didn't know you needed me… I wouldn't need you?"

"I don't think so. What I'm trying to say is that I don't think you'd want me to live with you unless you felt like people were out to get me," she explained.

Ah. That he could understand. And he could respect it. She didn't want to accept his offer if he was making it for the wrong reasons, those reasons being fear or worry rather than affection. He didn't know how to explain that for him, there would be no fear or worry if there were no affection. Besides, there were many ways to protect a person that didn't involve offering his home and his life. He wouldn't have made the offer if he didn't want her. She must know that.

"What difference does that make?" he asked her. "If I want you with me, I want you. The circumstances don't matter."

"But they do matter," she insisted. "And we're so different."

His hands, which had been rubbing her feet, stilled. "What?"

"Well, there are so many things you take for granted that I don't."

He rolled his eyes, torn between amusement and impatience. There was very little he took for granted – he wouldn't have survived the centuries otherwise – and nothing that involved her. "Like what?" he asked.

"Well… like Appius having sex with Alexei." She frowned. "It was not a big deal for you, even though Alexei was thirteen."

"Sookie," he said slowly, "it was what you call a 'done deal' long before I even knew I had a brother. In Ocella's time, people were reckoned practically grown at thirteen. They were even married that young." Mary, the mother of your own Jesus, would have been a child of exactly Alexei's age when your god put his seed in her. This he didn't say, not wanting to offend her. "Ocella never understood some of the changes in society that came with the centuries. And Alexei and Ocella are both dead now." She looked unconvinced, as if she had forgotten that Alexei was hardly an innocent victim in the end. "There was another side of that coin, you remember? Alexei used his youth, his childlike looks, to disarm all the vampires and humans around him. Even Pam was loath to put him down, though she knew how destructive he was… how insane. And she's the most ruthless vampire I know. He was a drain on all of us, sucking the will and force from us with the depth of his need."

His mood darkened as he remembered those miserable days, cutting himself off from Sookie as much as he could to spare her. Outside her house, he could hear the arrival of a car. Her brother, perhaps.

"What about the fact that you're going to outlive me for, like, forever?" she asked.

This again. She knew the solution. They had talked about it before this night.

"We can take care of that easily enough," he said. She only stared at him. "What? You don't want to live forever?" He smiled. "With me?"

"I don't know," she said, and his heart soared. The last time they had discussed this, she had been so adamant about not wanting to be turned. She had made him promise that he wouldn't, even if she were dying. Now, it seemed she might one day be persuaded. "You know, Eric, I can't…"

She stopped herself, and he felt her doubt and insecurity. Before he could ask her to finish her thought, her guest knocked. He followed her to the back door, which she opened to reveal the witch and a young man.

Fucking hell.

"Come on in!" Sookie exclaimed as happiness suffused both her voice and Eric's blood. "Eric's here, and he'll be glad to see you both!"

He forced a smile. "Yes, I am so glad that you've come to visit Sookie," he said.

The witch looked unconvinced and seemed about as thrilled to see Eric as he was to see her. She and her companion stepped in, and Sookie noticed that the man was carrying their bags.

"My relatives are staying upstairs," she explained, "so you two can use the guest bedroom down here." She motioned in that direction, and the young man proceeded there with the bags.

"Eric, how are things going at Fangtasia?" the witch asked. She was rotating her neck and stretching her arms over her head, apparently stiff from their long car ride from New Orleans. "How's the new management?" She bent over to touch her toes.

He ground his teeth, though he knew she hadn't asked the question from any ill will. "Business is going all right," he said. "Victor has opened some new clubs close by."

Standing straight again, Amelia looked between him and Sookie with fresh concern. "Victor's the smiley guy who was out in the yard the night of the takeover, right?"

"Yes. The smiley guy," he said, amused in spite of the sore topic.

"So, Sook, what troubles do you have now?" she asked.

Eric frowned and looked at Sookie suspiciously. Was there something she hadn't told him? "Yes, what troubles do you have now?"

"I was just going to get Amelia to reinforce the wards around the house," she replied. "Since so much stuff has happened at Merlotte's, I was feeling kind of insecure."

This was clearly a lie. Only a few hours had passed since the incident, and her friends could not have driven from New Orleans in so short a time. Amelia knew something that he didn't, and she had known it before tonight.

"So she called me," the witch said. Eric got the obvious, unspoken message: "Me, not you."

"But now that the bitch has been cornered, Sookie, surely the threat's been removed?" he asked. Might as well play along.

"What? What happened tonight, Sookie?"

Eric bit back a smile. Amelia had about as much tact as an elephant in a circus, and her mouth was just as big. He could only hope that Sookie would never come to harm because of it.

"Debbie Pelt's sister came to Merlotte's tonight," Sookie replied. "Sam and all took care of it. I'd still feel better if you made sure the wards were in place, though."

Amelia grinned. "That's one of the things I've come to do, Sookie." She turned her bright smile on Eric. Her "I know something you don't know" expression was not at all subtle.

He satisfied himself with the mental image of kicking her outside on her ass.

The witch's male friend returned and said, "Those weren't my kittens," to which pronouncement Eric could only stare. "I mean, Weres can't breed with the animal they turn into. So I don't think those were my kittens."

The conversation didn't end there, but Eric was too disgusted at the topic and too annoyed at his and Sookie's disrupted evening to listen further. "Sookie, I need to get back to Fangtasia," he said at last.

"Okay, Eric," she said cheerfully. "Tell Pam I said hello if you two are back to speaking."

"She's a better friend to you than you know," he muttered, and in a flash, he was in his car, speeding down her graveled road.

He and Pam were going over a merchandise order when Sookie disappeared. One minute he had felt her in his blood, quiet and safe as she usually was, and the next…

There was no pain, only a terrible nothing. She was gone.

He doubled over in his desk chair and let out a cry of anguish. A split-second later, Pam was kneeling in front of him, holding his head to her shoulder.

"Eric, what is it?" she asked. "Tell me." His only reply was something grief-stricken and unintelligible. "Please, Eric, what happened?"

"Sookie…"

"What?" she pressed after waiting for him to say more. "What about Sookie?" He raised his head and saw that her shirt and hands were bloody. He had wept… was still weeping. Pam, who never cried, had blood welling in the corners of her eyes. "Eric, please! Is she in danger? Let's go to her!"

"Gone. Gone."

Pam took out her phone and pushed some buttons. Seconds later, he heard the voice that called him back up from hell: "Hello?" Pam shoved the phone to his ear and paced away, holding her arms around herself.

He gripped the phone so tightly that he heard a small crack, and he loosened his fingers. "Are you there? Are you there? Are you all right?"

"Eric," Sookie breathed on the other end of the line, and he had never heard anything more beautiful than her voice saying his name after he thought he would never hear it again. "Oh, I'm so glad you're all right! You are, aren't you?"

It was then that he realized what had happened. He didn't want to believe it. He told himself that there was another explanation. "What have you done?" he managed to ask.

"Amelia found a way to break the bond," she said.

He was so furious – so hurt – so shocked – he was unable to speak. But Sookie was waiting.

"Sookie… the marriage gives you some protection, but the bond is what is important."

"What?"

"You heard me." The marriage was a ritual. The bond was everything. "I am so angry with you." He heard another soft crack, and again he loosened his grip on Pam's phone.

"Come here," she said.

He growled. "No. If I see Amelia, I'll break her neck. She's always wanted you to get rid of me."

"But…" Sookie's voice trailed off.

"I'll see you when I've got control of myself." He pressed the button to end the call and slammed the phone on his desk.

"You really love her," Pam murmured after a long silence. He raised his head to see her looking down at her hands, which were still covered with his blood. "The bond was gone, and still…"

"It wasn't the blood," he said. "Am I the only one who knew that?"

She looked up and fixed her eyes on his. "You will be stronger now. Her humanity weakened you. It weighed you down like a ball and chain."

"That's enough, Pam."

"Don't you understand how sick with worry I have been since Rhodes? To see you losing more and more of your-"

"Enough."

"Fine. You owe me a new shirt, by the way." She started to walk away, then stopped. "And a new phone."

Chapter Text

Only eight months, a blink in his centuries of existence, had passed since he had bound himself to Sookie in Rhodes, but he had forgotten what it meant not to have her with him always. He had grown accustomed to the way her blood seemed to live inside his body, as if reanimating his own organs, flooding light and warmth into some reservoir deep within him. He had forgotten what it meant to feel only himself, his hardened nature untempered by Sookie's goodness. It had begun with that little spark in Dallas. Now it was gone.

Pam had seemed surprised that he still loved Sookie without the bond. If anything, he loved her more fiercely. He loved her in the only way a vampire can love: passionately, possessively, violently, with no trace of human tenderness or gentleness.

His hurt over the bond breaking had evaporated very quickly. It was a human feeling.

His anger was still quite present.

Not even a fucking text message, Sookie?

The way she had answered the phone, as if she were unsure that he was all right, showed that she had proceeded with the ritual without being certain that it wouldn't harm him. The lack of consideration was galling.

Yet he wanted nothing more than her body against his. Her warm body, her warm breath, the heat between her legs.

He fought the sluggish weight of his limbs and rose shortly before sundown to shower and dress. As soon as the sun slipped past the horizon, he was in his car, speeding to Bon Temps.

The bond allowed him to protect Sookie, certainly, but without it… suddenly, the world had opened. He wanted to see her face when she admitted that she loved him. She had never trusted her own feelings; now she could no longer run from them. She could no longer run from him. She had torn down the wall herself.

Sookie was perched on her top porch step. Though he could no longer feel her, her anxiety was written plainly on her face. She stood as he got out of the car. He shut the door and stood there, regarding her.

"Are you still mad?" she asked. Her lip trembled.

"Do you still love me?"

"You first."

"I'm not angry… at least, not anymore. At least… not right now," he said. "I should have encouraged you to find a way to break the bond, and in fact, we have a ritual for it. I should have offered it to you. I was afraid that without it, we would be parted, whether because you didn't want to be dragged into my troubles, or because Victor found out you were vulnerable. If he chooses to ignore the marriage, without the bond I won't know that you are in danger."

Now you, my dear one. Tell me that you love me.

"I should have asked you what you thought, or at least warned you what we were going to do." Her eyes were bright and clear, her gaze direct. Her chest rose as she breathed in. "I do love you," she said. "All on my own."

In the next instant, he was in front of her, pulling her up into his arms. He kissed her hungrily, then proceeded to shower her throat and shoulder blades with kisses while she used the much-needed moments to breathe. The hollow at the base of her throat already had a shimmer of sweat, and he licked it away. With his arms around her waist, he lifted her up even higher, trailing his mouth to the worn neckline of her thin t-shirt, kissing her breasts through the material that stood in his way. She had secured herself by locking her ankles around him, and she twisted her hands into his hair, as greedy for his mouth's attentions as he was to give them.

"I'm going to tear your clothes," he said.

"Okay," she gasped, and it sounded less like permission and more like a plea.

He ripped her t-shirt away and growled at the swell of her breasts over a small, pink bra. Her nipples were already straining against the satiny material, begging for his attention. They would have it. He pulled the bra down and sucked one nipple into his mouth while Sookie leaned back against a porch rail and pushed herself up to him. It was time for the bra to go, and he tore it away with a short-lived pang of regret.

The scent of her arousal motivated him to make quick work of the rest of her clothes. He reached between them to stroke her with his thumb and fingers, and she almost cried with pleasure as she moved herself against his hand.

He could feel the heat of her skin through his shirt, but it wasn't enough. It was nowhere near enough. He unbuckled his belt and threw it aside.

"I'm tearing mine, too," he said roughly.

Sookie's mouth was engaged near his ear, and her breath was hot. "Sure." She swept the shell of his ear with her tongue and bit his earlobe hard, and he growled like the desperate creature he was.

The shreds of his clothes joined Sookie's on the porch. He gripped her full ass in both hands and pushed himself into her with a grunt. Her body jolted against his, and he stepped back until he felt her porch swing behind his legs. It swayed wildly back and to one side before they developed a rhythm and used the swing's motion to rock against each other with each deep thrust.

"Go hard," Sookie moaned. With the hand she had wrapped around his neck, she pulled his hair into her fist. "Go..." she said, grinding against him. "Go…," dragging her nails over his shoulder. "Go…"

"Is this hard enough?" he growled out, punctuating each word with a hard, fast thrust.

It was, apparently, because Sookie threw her head back and cried out her release.

Her muscles clenched around him, and the pleasure was sublime. This, too, he had forgotten since the blood bond. Feeling her pleasure along with his own had always been amazing, but he had forgotten what it was like to feel only himself – the raw, sharp, immediate bliss of it, like a radio station that booms loudly once one has tuned it just so.

"Come on, Eric!" Sookie urged. She gripped his shoulders and increased their pace, so much so that the swing fell out of rhythm. "Come on!"

He called her name out in a ragged voice that he barely recognized, pushed into her one more time, and came with a long, low groan.

Sookie took his face in her hands and kissed him, then relaxed against him, her head resting on his shoulder. Her breathing was shallow and fast.

"I forgot…" she murmured, "how it felt before…"

He smiled. "So did I."

She sat up and returned his smile before lifting herself off of him and settling back against him, one leg on either side of his waist. She stroked her fingers absently up and down his arm.

"That was so good," she sighed.

He pressed his lips to her shoulder. "It always is."

Such a long time passed in silence, and her breathing became so deep and regular, that he wondered if she had fallen asleep. He rocked them slowly, rubbing her back as he lost himself in thought.

"Are you awake, my lover?" he whispered eventually.

"Mmhm," she replied.

"You didn't ask me if I still love you."

She raised her head and rested her forehead on his. "I didn't have to," she said.

It struck him then that in separating them, Sookie had removed the thing that kept them apart.

Chapter Text

After another span of peaceful quiet, Sookie stirred against his chest. "We should go in before the mosquitoes eat us up," she murmured.

"They don't touch me," he said, smiling into her hair, "but I can understand why they would want you."

She sat up and winced as she moved to stand. "Ouch."

"Let me heal you." He raised his fingers to his mouth and pressed them to his fangs.

"Don't," she said as she took his wrist to stop him. Of course; she had just undone their bond. She didn't want his blood. But she surprised him by blushing and adding, "I kind of like it."

Eric stood up beside her, drew her face to his, and kissed her. Since she was achy, he picked up their clothes – what was left of them, anyway – before they went inside. While Sookie went back to her room to dress, he pulled on his jeans and secured them with his belt. His shirt was missing practically every button now, but he put it on anyway. He heated a True Blood in the microwave for himself and used a cold pitcher in the refrigerator to pour a glass of sweet tea for Sookie. He opened her freezer to see if she had an ice pack, but he didn't see one. He made do by filling a Ziploc bag with ice cubes and folding a thin washcloth around it.

By the time Sookie emerged from her room, he had finished his blood and was waiting for her by the sofa. She lowered herself onto it slowly and leaned back against one arm.

"See if this feels better," he said, laying the ice pack on her. He gave her the glass of tea, and she handed him the brush she had brought with her.

Only once before had he tried to brush her hair – the night that Appius and Alexei had arrived – and she had stopped him suddenly. His maker had interrupted and upset their lives before Eric could spare a minute to puzzle over her reaction. He remembered a night when he had watched in jealousy as Bill brushed her hair; perhaps it was a ritual she had shared with him? Whatever it was, a reminder of another lover or nothing at all, the brush was in his hand tonight. He knelt behind the arm of the couch and set to work.

She sipped her tea and occasionally made quiet, happy noises as he cared for her, smoothing out the tangles that he himself had taken great delight in creating. Having long hair himself, he knew how to untangle it gently, and he couldn't stop himself from sliding his fingers through her hair or kissing it now and then. When he had finished brushing it out, he gathered it in one hand, laid it over her shoulder, and kissed her neck. She reached behind her to tug at him.

"C'mere," she said, and he obeyed, shuffling on his knees to the side of the sofa.

He set her empty glass on the coffee table so he could have her hands all to himself. They kissed for several minutes, slowly and softly, taking the time they had not spared earlier on the porch. The tea had made Sookie's mouth cool and sweet.

"Still sore?" he asked her.

"Some," she replied, "but the ice is helping. Can I brush your hair?" He turned around on the floor, and she sat up, putting one leg on either side of him. She ran her fingers through his hair and laughed. "Your hair might be even more tangled than mine was," she said.

Though she couldn't see his face, he grinned. "It felt more like you were pulling it out than tangling it."

He leaned back against the sofa and closed his eyes, as happy as he always was in the cradle of her legs. When she had finished with him, he joined her on the sofa, pulling her legs up into his lap. He rubbed the bottom of her foot, then slid his palm up the smooth, tanned length of her leg before making the return journey on her other leg.

"Has Victor said anything to you?" Sookie asked.

He knew what she meant. "Not about the bond, so he doesn't know yet," he said. "He would have been on the phone instantly." Fortunately, there was no way for Victor to know unless someone told him. Eric rested his head back on the sofa, relaxing as his hand continued to rub Sookie's legs.

"How's Miriam? Did she recover?"

"She recovered from the drugs Victor gave her, but she's sicker in body," he told her grimly. "Pam is as close to despair as I've ever seen her." He could feel it, too. Pam unnerved many people because of her apparent lack of feeling; what unnerved Eric was the revelation of her unexpected depth of feeling.

"Did their relationship come on kind of slowly? Because I didn't have a clue until Immanuel told me about it."

"Pam doesn't often care for anyone as much as she cares about Miriam." In fact, the only person she had cared about as much was himself, and since Pam's declaration the other night, he knew that Miriam was nothing to her when compared to him. This saddened him in a way that he would have scoffed at – no, he would have found it pathetic and weak and repulsive, as would any other vampire – before Sookie. He traced the arch of her foot with his index finger. "I only found out when she asked for some time off from the club to visit Miriam in the hospital," he admitted. "And she gave the girl blood, too, which is the only reason Miriam's lasted this long."

"Vampire blood can't cure her?"

If vampire blood could cure cancer or AIDS or any other disease, the handful of doctors who knew about the blood's healing powers would have already made themselves rich. The pharmaceutical companies would cease to exist.

"Our blood is good for healing open wounds. For illnesses, it can offer relief, but seldom a cure," he explained.

"I wonder why?" she mused.

He answered her with a shrug. "I'm sure one of your scientists would have a theory, but I don't. And since some people go crazy when they take our blood, the risk is considerable. I was happier when the properties of our blood were secret, but I suppose that couldn't be kept quiet for long." He looked at her, and his face hardened at the thought of not being allowed to save her. One day he would have to watch her die, and he would understand Pam's present suffering. "Victor certainly isn't concerned about Miriam's survival – or the fact that Pam has never asked to create a child before," he said bitterly. "After all these years of service, Pam deserves to be granted the right."

"Victor's not letting Pam have Miriam out of sheer cussedness?" she frowned.

Normally, Sookie's expressions amused or puzzled him, but this one he found quite fitting and not a bit funny. "He has a bullshit excuse about there being enough vampires in my sheriffdom, when actually my numbers are low." He growled as if Victor were standing right in front of him. "The truth is that Victor will block us any way he can for as long as he can, in the hope that I'll do something injudicious enough to warrant being removed as sheriff… or killed."

"Surely Felipe wouldn't let that happen," Sookie said in a small voice.

Though he could no longer feel her anxiety or her fear, her face was as open as always, and he could see everything in her eyes. He lifted her onto his lap and folded her against him, pressing his lips into her hair.

"Felipe would judge in Pam's favor if he were on the spot, but I'm sure he wants to stay out of the situation if he can. It's what I'd do." He stroked her hair as he went on, musing aloud, "He's setting up Red Rita in Arkansas, and she's never ruled. He knows Victor is sulking about being appointed regent rather than king in Louisiana. And he is busy himself in Las Vegas, which he's running on a skeleton crew since he's sent people out to both his new states. Consolidating this big an empire hasn't been done in hundreds of years, and the last time it was done, the population was only a fraction of what it is today."

He remembered the years of turmoil when the vampires had fought over the Louisiana Purchase; the French vampires, who had been and still were mostly concentrated in New Orleans, hadn't been at all happy about surrendering their domain just because their human counterparts did.

"So Felipe's still in complete control of Nevada?" she asked. Her breath warmed the skin at his shoulder.

"Yes… for now."

Her arms tightened around him. "That sounds kind of ominous."

"When leaders are spread thin, the sharks gather round to see if they can take a bite."

She lifted her head to look at him. "What sharks? Anyone we know?"

Her eyes were so wide and close to his own; he could not look into them while mentioning Oklahoma. He glanced off to the side, staring at her tea glass on the coffee table.

"Two other monarchs in Zeus," he said. "The Queen of Oklahoma for one, and the King of Arizona."

She lay back against him and sighed. "I wish you were just an average vampire. I wish you weren't a sheriff or anything."

"You mean you wish I were like Bill." Apolitical. Self-loathing. The anti-vampire.

"No, because he's not average, either," she said defensively, almost angrily. She sat up again and frowned at him. Yet again, she had mistaken his meaning. "He's got the whole database thing going, and he's taught himself all about computers. He's sort of reinvented himself. I guess I mean I wish you were more like…" Eric waited for the verdict, almost cringing. "Maxwell."

He gave a snort of derision and rolled his eyes. "Of course, I'm so much like Maxwell. Let me start carrying a pocket calculator with me and putting people to sleep with things like… 'variable annuities,' or whatever the hell it is he talks about."

"I get your point, Mr. Subtle," she said, smiling. She took off the makeshift ice pack, which was now little more than cold water, and set it on the coffee table next to her glass. "See, isn't this fun?" she asked, motioning between them to indicate – he assumed – the tie that was no longer there.

"Yes, so much fun," he said dryly. "Until Victor snatches you up and drains you dry and then says, 'But, Eric, she was no longer bonded to you, so I did not think you still wanted her!' And then he'll turn you against your will, and I'll have to watch you suffer being bound to him for the rest of your life… and mine." The idea alone filled him with anger and misery.

Sookie shivered in his arms. "You really know how to make a girl feel special."

"I love you," he reminded her. If he didn't, he wouldn't care how many power-hungry regents wanted to possess her. His thoughts returned to Pam. "And this situation with Pam has to end," he said, thinking out loud. "If this girl Miriam dies, Pam may decide to leave, and I won't be able to stop her. In fact, I shouldn't. Though she's very useful."

Pam claimed that she didn't want to leave him, but neither he nor she could know how she would feel when Miriam died. Such a death could change a person profoundly – even a person like Pam.

"You're fond of her. Come on, Eric. You love her. She's your kid."

He smiled a little at the thought of how Pam would react to being called his "kid." "Yes, I am very fond of Pam. I made a great choice." He pressed his nose to the top of her hair and inhaled her scent. "You were my other great choice."

There was a short silence, and then Sookie said in a sniffly kind of voice, "That's one of the nicest things anyone's ever said to me."

"Don't cry!" he said quickly, motioning for her to stop.

He hated the sight of her tears, whether happy or sad. He remembered the first time he had ever held her, just the two of them, after she had escaped from the Fellowship church in Dallas. She had been crying then, too, and drying her eyes on his shirt just as she was now.

"So… do you have a plan about Victor?" she asked.

"Every time I make one, I run up against an obstacle so large I have to discard the plan. Victor is very good at self-protection. I may have to openly attack him." His words were pure treason, and he hadn't spoken them aloud to anyone but her, though they often hung unsaid but understood between himself and Pam. "If I kill him… if I win… then I'll have to stand trial." Only Felipe's pardon would be able to save him then, and he couldn't be certain that it would be granted.

"Eric," she said slowly, "if you fought with Victor alone, bare-handed, in an empty room, what do you think the outcome would be?"

"He's very good," he hedged.

Sookie looked up at him. "He might win?"

"Yes," he said frankly, turning his head down to return her gaze. "And what would happen to you and Pam afterward…" Pam would be tortured and killed. Sookie was too valuable to kill, but Victor would certainly make sure that she suffered. She would be his slave in every way.

"I'm not trying to bypass the fact that you would be dead, which would be the most important thing to me in that scenario, but I'm wondering why he would be so sure to hurt Pam and me afterward. What would be the point?"

"The point would be the lesson he'd be making to other vampires who might be thinking of trying to overthrow him." Another point would be Victor's own sadistic pleasure.

Eric looked away from her, trying to decide if he wanted to tell her the story Heidi had told him. It would serve as a warning and a reminder to Sookie that their blood bond was not something she should have thrown away so carelessly. It would remind her that vampires were ruthless and merciless. Including himself. But Sookie already knew what he was. She already knew what he and the others of his kind were capable of. She loved him anyway.

He told her Heidi's story about the vampire, Chico, who had been forced to eat his own mother's tongue. He didn't want to see the undisguised horror and disgust in her eyes, so he kept his eyes trained on one of the family photographs across the room.

"Chico was violently ill, and in fact threw up blood," he said. "He became too weak to move. While he lay on the floor, his mother bled to death. He couldn't crawl to her to give her blood to save her."

Sookie's face, when he finally looked back at her, was exactly how he had pictured it would be.

"Heidi volunteered this story?" she asked.

"Yes. I had asked her why she was so pleased she'd been sent to Area Five."

The story was horrifying not so much for the brutality of cutting out a tongue, which Eric himself had done to enemies and did not regret, but for the injustice of killing Chico's innocent mother. Vampires, however vicious, did have a sense of justice. Most vampires, at least. He suspected – rightly, he knew – that everything about the story was awful to Sookie.

"Victor's either short-sighted or super-cocky," she said.

Eric nodded his agreement. "Maybe both."

Sookie sat up fully in his lap and angled herself more towards him. She trailed her fingertips down the side of his face. "How'd you feel when you heard that story?" she asked him.

He would have thought his feelings were obvious. "I… didn't want that to happen to you." He could see that she was waiting for something else. Did she want an apology on behalf of all vampires? Did she want him to say that he would never rip out someone's tongue? "What are you looking for, Sookie?" he asked directly. "What answer shall I give?"

Should I tell you that if anyone, human or vampire, killed you, I would tear out more than that person's tongue? There are some truths you don't want to hear, even though you already know them.

She smiled a little and shook her head. "That's okay. Never mind." There was disappointment written on her face. If she wanted an answer which he could not give, she would have to remain disappointed. "You know who you should talk to?" she asked suddenly. "Remember the night we went to Vampire's Kiss, that server who tipped me off about the fairy blood by just a look and a thought?" He answered with a nod. "I hate to pull him in any further, but I don't see we have another choice. We have to do this with everything we've got, or we're going down."

For all her unease with moral ambiguity, Sookie had it herself in spades. Fortunately for her, her husband loved her for it. Eric smiled.

"Sometimes you astonish me," he said. "Let's go."

"Wait… what?"

He helped her to her feet and then stood up himself. "To Vampire's Kiss. You said it yourself. We have to do this with everything we've got, or we're going down. So let's go."

Chapter Text

Fortunately, Eric had a few changes of clothes at Sookie's house, so he threw away his ruined shirt and jeans and dressed in fresh ones. The clothes he kept at Sookie's always smelled of her fabric softener and her house. It was a shame he couldn't keep all of them here, he thought. Ten minutes later, the two of them were in her car, headed to Victor's tacky bar.

"Eric?" Sookie said, turning from the road briefly to look at him.

"Yes, my lover?"

"I'm sorry for hurting you last night." She reached for his hand and laced her fingers into his. "I'm not sorry for breaking the bond because it was something I needed to do. But I'm sorry for not telling you first. That was… high-handed of me."

He tightened his fingers in hers. "You did what you thought you had to do. I have done the same, as you often point out."

"That's what makes me feel bad," she said. "I can't fuss at you for being high-handed and then go and do the very same thing myself."

He smiled. "From now on, we will be even-handed," he said. The English expression meant something slightly different, but she would understand. "As sheriff, I neither need nor expect your permission to take certain actions, but I will tell you of my plans if they concern you. Though I may not choose to act on it, I will always take your opinion into account. I expect the same from you."

He wouldn't have been surprised if she protested this pragmatic and slightly unromantic way of putting things, but he heard the conviction in her voice when she replied, "That's all I've ever wanted. From anyone."

He wondered if she was thinking of Bill, who had treated her like a child requiring protection and guidance, who never seemed to understand that a birdcage is more for the master than for the rare bird inside.

"What are you thinking?" he asked Sookie after a few minutes of comfortable silence.

"Just curious about something. Why do you call me 'my lover' instead of 'my love'?"

Eric paused for a moment as he considered how to word his answer, then said, "I have many loves, from certain activities to certain objects. But I have only one lover."

"You don't have to answer this if you don't want to, but how long have I been your only lover?"

"Since Dallas."

She sat up straighter in her seat. "But we… since Dallas?"

"Not because we had any kind of understanding or because I felt some obligation to you. I didn't want anyone else, frankly."

"Huh." Once again, she slid one hand from the steering wheel to clasp his. "You said back at the house that I astonish you sometimes," she said. "Well, sometimes you astonish me, too."

She exited the interstate and pulled off the frontage road into the parking lot of Vampire's Kiss. Instead of circling for a space as Eric had done on their first visit, Sookie parked in the half-empty employee lot behind the bar. Since it was so hot outside, even at night, she kept the car idling as they waited. While Sookie texted someone, Eric relaxed into his seat and listened to the faded, thumping bass beats from inside the bar.

"Did you replace Bobby yet?" Sookie asked him after a little while.

"Yes, I hired a man two days ago," he told her. "He came highly recommended."

"By whom?"

He hesitated before answering her, since Bubba's good word usually didn't count for much in the minds of thinking people. Especially when that good word was in support of a Were. Pam had looked at him as if he were as crazy as the former King of Rock and Roll. But he hadn't yet developed a taste for sequined jumpsuits and cats.

"By Bubba," he admitted.

"He's back!" Sookie exclaimed. "Where's he staying?"

"Right now, he's staying with me." Eric had given Bubba strict instructions not to hunt the cats in his quiet, affluent, suburban neighborhood. "When he asked about Bobby, I had to tell him what had happened. The next night, Bubba brought me this person. He's teachable, I suppose."

In spite of what Pam and other vampires might think, Eric had a reasonable amount of trust for Bubba's opinion. Damaged as he was, Bubba's pigheaded loyalty and devotion were qualities not to be underestimated. Loyalty was something Eric respected. And he would take a recommendation from Bubba over a recommendation from many a cleverer vampire.

"You don't sound too enthusiastic," Sookie observed.

"He's a Were."

Sookie's mouth opened in a silent "Ohhhh," then she said, "Tell me about him – your assistant, that is."

"He's a black man. He's a lone wolf, unaffiliated." Sookie may not know this, but many werewolves in the South, both black and white, were vehement racists. Perhaps it was the animal in them, but Weres and shifters had a strong sense of "my kind" and "their kind." There were many exceptions, of course, but the tendency was still prevalent. "Alcide has already made overtures to him about joining the Long Tooth pack, but I don't think he's interested." Eric shrugged. "And of course, now that he's taken a job with me, they won't be so anxious to have him."

"And this is the guy you hired?" Sookie asked, looking incredulous. The artificial light from the bar signs glowed in her hair. "A Were, whom you don't trust and have to train? A guy who'll automatically piss off Alcide and the Long Tooth pack?"

"He has an outstanding attribute," Eric replied. He decided not to antagonize her by pointing out that her last statement was something he considered more of a positive than a negative.

"Good!" she said dryly. "What is it?"

"He can keep his mouth shut, and he hates Victor." Well, those were two outstanding attributes.

"Why? I'm assuming he has a good reason."

In Eric's mind, any reason for hating Victor was a good reason, but he admitted to Sookie that he didn't know Mustapha's story yet.

"But you're convinced he's not pulling some elaborate double whammy – that Victor didn't cleverly realize you'd hire someone who hated him, so he primed this guy and shot him over to you?"

Eric was briefly torn between pride in Sookie's acuity and regret that she had been forced to become so cynical. Yes, he'd had his initial suspicions about Mustapha, but those had quickly been laid to rest. It couldn't hurt to have Sookie examine him, though.

"I'm convinced," he assured her, "but I want you to sit with him a while tomorrow."

"If I can get some sleep," she said around a yawn. For several minutes, they watched in silence as a few employees headed out to their cars. Some lights went off inside. At length, Sookie tugged on his sleeve. "Oh, Eric, there he is!" They followed Colton at a safe distance as he pulled onto the frontage road and merged onto I-20 West. When they exited behind him only a few miles later, Sookie made a frustrated "ugh" sound. "We're looking pretty damn conspicuous," she said.

There wasn't any help for that. "We need to talk to him," Eric replied.

"So we're giving up on stealth, huh?" she asked as she flicked off her turn signal.

"Yes," he said shortly.

They turned onto a road called, appropriately enough, Trails End, which was lined with reasonably well-kept mobile homes. Colton parked in front of one of the trailers on the left and got out in a flash. Yes, they had definitely given up on stealth.

Sookie parked beside him and unbuckled her seatbelt. "Let me get out first," she told Eric. She opened her door slowly and set one foot on the loose gravel drive. "Colton, it's Sookie Stackhouse," she said loudly. "You know who I am! I'm standing up now, and I'm not armed."

"Go slow." Colton moved warily around the front of his vehicle.

"Just so you know, Eric Northman is with me, but he's still in the car," Sookie said. Leaving her door open, Sookie raised her arms in the humans' "put your hands where I can see 'em!" posture and stepped forward a little.

"Good," Colton replied.

A woman in a see-through red negligee appeared at the trailer door. "Colton, what's going on?"

"We got some company," Colton told her. "Don't worry about it."

"Who's she?" the woman asked, who clearly intended to worry about it as much as she pleased.

"The Stackhouse woman," he said over his shoulder.

So they had discussed Sookie. Interesting.

The woman squinted into the poor light cast by the low-watt bulb installed just over the door. "Sookie?" she said.

Sookie lowered her arms. "Yeah? Do I know you? I can't see you that well."

"It's Audrina Loomis," the woman said, smiling. Eric had to admire her complete lack of shame about her body. Whereas most human women might cross their arms over their chest or reach for a robe, she seemed to have entirely forgotten that she was wearing next to nothing. "You remember? I went out with your brother for a while in high school."

"It's… been a while," Sookie said carefully, and Eric smirked. She obviously had no memory of this person.

"He still single?" Audrina asked. Eric noticed that Colton shot her a "Really?" look.

"Yeah. Oh, by the way, can my boyfriend get out now?"

Boyfriend. Eric gritted his teeth.

"Who's he?" Audrina was trying to peer into the car.

"His name's Eric," Sookie said. "He's a vampire."

Audrina's eyebrows flew up. If she hadn't seen Sookie since their school days, she might well be surprised that Sookie was dating a vampire. "Cool. Sure, let's have a look," she said. Eric fought a smile at her obvious appreciation of his physical form when he unfolded himself from Sookie's small car. "Well… okay... You two want to come in and let us know what you're doing here?"

Colton joined Audrina in front of the door and eyed Sookie and Eric suspiciously. "You think that's smart?" he asked her.

"He could've killed us about six times already," Audrina shrugged.

Eric liked her. In addition to her lack of prudish modesty, she was smart and pragmatic – her youthful dalliance with Sookie's brother notwithstanding.

Audrina motioned to them, and Eric followed Sookie inside. She invited them to sit on the old and worn sofa in the living room while Colton watched the proceedings with a wary eye. After it had been established that refreshments were not forthcoming, Sookie immediately launched into the reason for their visit.

"Eric and I want to know why you warned us," she began, looking up at Colton, who was leaning against a doorframe with his arms crossed.

"I heard about you. Heidi told me," he said.

Heidi the spy? Eric raised an eyebrow. "You and Heidi are friends?" he asked. He glanced briefly at Audrina and smiled, never one to waste the advantage of physical attraction. Her cheeks flamed red.

Colton, oblivious to all this, replied, "Yeah, I worked for Felipe at a club in Reno. I knew Heidi from there."

"You moved from Reno to take a low-paying job in Louisiana?" Sookie asked, raising a skeptical brow.

Unfortunately, Colton answered with a string of personal information about which Eric didn't give a fuck. "But you're right, there's more to the story," he concluded.

The "more to the story" was obviously the part Eric wanted to know, but he bit back his impatience and followed Colton's gaze to Audrina.

"We came for a reason. Colton is Chico's brother," she explained. She gave Eric a pointed look that said she knew Heidi had told him the story.

"So it was your mom," Sookie said slowly. "I'm so sorry."

"Yeah, it was my mom," Colton said, launching into another exposition of personal information that tried Eric's waning patience.

"And how come Victor doesn't know who you are… know to be leery of you?" Sookie asked.

"Chico had a different dad, so he had a different last name," Audrina explained. "And Chico wasn't a family type guy. He hadn't lived at home for ten years. He only called his mom once every couple of months. Never went to see them. But that was enough to give Victor the bright idea of reminding Chico he hadn't signed a contract with the California Angels." She sighed and turned to Colton.

"More like Hell's Angels," he mumbled.

No, the Hell's Angels are mostly Weres, Eric thought. "So thanks to Victor's employee, you knew about my Sookie, and you knew how to warn her when Victor was going to poison us," he said. Tiring as Colton was, he had done them that service.

Instead of replying, Colton only scowled at Eric.

"Yes, you did what you ought to do. We're people, too," Sookie told him, and Eric understood that she had read Colton's mind. Not that his face left anything to the imagination.

"You are," Eric nodded at Sookie, "but Pam and I aren't. Colton, I want to thank you for your warning, and I want to reward you. What can I do for you?" Judging by the trailer and the ragged sofa, Colton would be wanting money.

But Colton surprised him by saying without hesitation, "You can kill Victor."

"How interesting," Eric said, his fangs scraping his bottom lip as he smiled darkly. "That's exactly what I want to do." Sookie made a frustrated sound, and he turned to her with narrowed eyes. "You're bored, my lover?"

"We've been saying that for months," she said. "All we've done is talk smack. If we're going to do something bad, let's go on and do it, not talk it to death! You think he doesn't know he's on our hit list? You think he's not waiting for us to try? You think he's not doing all this shit to you and Pam to provoke you into something so he'll be justified in smacking you down? This is a win-win situation for him!"

He had never heard Sookie talk this way. She had beaten herself up over killing the Pelt woman in self-defense, and now she was impatient because they hadn't assassinated the regent of Louisiana in a timely manner. She had said once before that they needed to kill Victor, and that in itself had surprised him, but he had never imagined that she herself wanted any part in it. Well, the time had now come and gone to "talk smack." If Sookie was on his side in this, there was nothing left to do but act – and act decisively.

"So what's your solution?" he asked her. "Do you have a plan?"

"Let's meet with Pam tomorrow night. She should be in on this."

He smiled at her briefly. However shocking it was to see her this way, he welcomed it and relished it. "All right," he agreed. "Colton, Audrina, are you both sure you want to risk this?"

They were.

"How do we know you won't be on the phone the minute we're out of the trailer?" Sookie pointed out.

"How do I know you won't do the same?" Audrina shot back. She was right, of course. "Colton done you a good turn in letting you know about the fairy blood," she went on. "He believed what Heidi said about you. And I guess you want to live through this as bad as we do."

While Audrina said this, Sookie had fished a pen and a scrap of paper from her purse. "Survival is my middle name," she said, and Eric watched as she scribbled the directions to her house. "See you tomorrow night at my house," she told them, handing the paper to Audrina.

"We'll be there," Colton said.

Both Colton and Audrina saw them out, and Eric caught Audrina giving him a last once-over before she closed the door. He smirked.

"Will you drive?" Sookie asked, tossing him her keys. "I'm likely to fall asleep at the wheel."

He pushed the driver's seat back far enough to accommodate his long legs, started the engine, and waited for Sookie to buckle her belt. As soon as he began to back out, the bulb over the trailer door went off.

"I will take you to my house," he told her. "It's closer."

"Okay."

Sookie loosened her seatbelt slightly and leaned closer to him to rest her head on his shoulder. She was asleep in minutes. When they reached his house, he put a hand on her leg to jostle her.

"We're home, dear one," he said, nuzzling her hair with his nose. She made a little noise that was half protest at being awakened, half happy sigh. He slipped out of the car and flashed around to her side to open the door and lift her out. Once he had carried her to the doorway of the bedroom that would one day be theirs, he set her down, though he continued to hold her body tightly to his. "Just how sleepy are you?" he whispered.

"Very. And sore, too."

"I could heal you with my hand. You wouldn't have to drink from me." He slid one hand down the slim line of her waist and over the curve of her hip. "It would be my pleasure. And yours."

She tilted her head back to smile up at him. "I'm sure. But I'm still sleepy. I'd be like a zombie. Have you developed a sudden interest in necrophilia?"

He grinned broadly, then laughed outright. "No, I like you alive…" He scraped his fangs against the pulse in her neck. "And warm…" He caressed the line of her throat with the back of his index finger. "And wiggling." There was a little spot just below and behind her ear that always made her gasp, and thus always begged to be kissed. He kissed it, and sure enough, he heard her breath catch. "I think I could wake you up enough," he smiled into her skin.

"Mmmmrrrm," she yawned.

He laughed again. "I'm going to find Pam and bring her up to date. I should ask about her friend Miriam, too." He stroked her hair back. "In the morning, Sookie, go home when you get up. I'll leave a note for Mustapha about the car." There was no telling how Mustapha would react if he found an unfamiliar car in Eric's garage. The man had a short temper, even for a Were.

"Who?" she asked, blinking.

That's right. He hadn't actually told her Mustapha's name. "My new daytime man's name is Mustapha Khan."

She seemed to find that name amusing for some reason. "Seriously?"

"Plenty of attitude," he nodded. "Be advised."

"Okay." She peeled her body from his and looked over her shoulder. "I think I'll stay in the upstairs bedroom since I have to get up," she said.

After accompanying her upstairs and leaving her safely in her bedroom, he went down to his office and called Pam. Then he called Bubba, who needed to know that Sookie was also at the house tonight.

Pam arrived a half hour later. She had already changed out of whatever black leather get-up she'd been wearing at the bar, though her hair was still pulled back into a tight bun.

"What's going on?" she asked. "Where's Sookie? I saw her car."

"Upstairs. Sleeping now, I assume." He leaned forward, resting his forearms on the desk. "We're going to kill Victor."

Her eyes gleamed as she smiled. "About fucking time."

Chapter Text

Pam drove them to Sookie's house the next night in her car. After the meeting, she planned to visit Miriam, who had been admitted to the hospital again, while Eric stayed with Sookie. Their first knock on Sookie's door wasn't answered, so Eric rapped more loudly. He could hear voices from the television. When Sookie finally opened the door, she looked haggard. He couldn't see any signs of injury on her, but she moved as if her body ached.

He put his hands on her shoulders and studied her face. "What's happened?" he demanded. If she had been hurt or in danger, he should have known it. He silently cursed the broken blood bond.

Pam, who had been picking up scents, spoke before Sookie could reply. "Ohhh, who's been entertaining… Wait…" She held up one hand and sniffed again for dramatic effect. "An elf, a fairy, and Bill?"

The fairy he could understand, but an elf? Bill?

A humorless smile curved Sookie's lips. "You been taking tracking lessons from Heidi?"

"As a matter of fact, I have," Pam replied proudly. "There's an art to drawing in air to sample it, since we no longer need to breathe."

Sookie made an "Ohhh" sound with her mouth and looked up at Eric, who didn't give a fuck about tracking lessons and wanted to know what was going on with her. Now.

"Come on inside, you two," Sookie said, stepping out from under Eric's hands to stand aside. "I'll tell you about my little adventure while I heat you up some True Bloods."

They followed her to the kitchen, and Pam sat at the table while Eric paced. "Well?" he pressed.

"Long story short, I got chased by these two guys, and I had to run over to Bill's for help. Dermot and this elf, Bellenos, went after the guys. After that, I took a shower and fell asleep by accident. So nothing's wrong."

This last bit she directed at Eric, who nodded in grim acceptance. What could he do, after all? With the bond gone, she was vulnerable. He knew it, and so did she. It was as simple as that.

He and Pam drank their bloods in silence until they all heard a knock at the back door. Pam set down her empty bottle and went to answer it. Eric knew that she was curious about the humans who had agreed to help them kill Victor.

"Yes?" she said, and her voice sounded much too cheerful.

A male voice replied, "Where is Miss Stackhouse?"

"Sookie!" Pam called. Now she sounded positively gleeful. "You're wanted!"

Sookie went to the back door with Eric right behind her. He saw – and smelled – the freshly decapitated heads before she did. Beside the elf, who must be Bellenos, stood Dermot, and the combined scents of fairy and blood were enthralling. Pam was chattering to Dermot and Bellenos in an airy, deadpan way, and Eric fought a smile. However amusing he found Pam's antics, the fact that these two men had wanted to harm Sookie, and the fact that he hadn't been able to sense it at all, still made him unhappy.

When Pam moved from the door, Sookie saw the heads for herself, and her hand flew to her mouth. A second later, she turned on her heel and ran down the hall. Her bathroom door closed with a slam that shook the picture frames on the walls.

"I sometimes forget that my niece is human," Dermot said, looking apologetic.

"Well, I think they're lovely. Just lovely!" Pam cooed.

"Where are the bodies?" Eric asked them. "I don't want Sookie to be troubled with this."

"After I had anointed my wound with their blood, we destroyed the bodies," Dermot said.

"Except for these, which I took for myself," the elf said. He held up the head in his hand. "After they have been shown to the kin in Monroe, they will also be destroyed." He handed over two dirty, wet wallets, along with some filthy and blood-soaked scraps of paper. Pam took these, looking utterly disgusted, and laid them on the hall table beside her. "These probably contain information that could prove useful."

"What about their vehicle?" Eric asked.

"Vehicles," Bellenos corrected. "They arrived on four-wheelers. We will take care of them."

Eric noticed that the fairy and elf looked at each other and grinned. He peered behind them and saw that the four-wheelers were parked a short distance behind them.

"It seems you've left nothing to worry Sookie, for which I thank you," Eric said.

They each gave him a solemn nod and headed back to the four-wheelers. Pam laughed as Eric shut the door and led the way back to the kitchen. Pam rinsed out her bottle and threw it away, then took Eric's, which had been abandoned half-full on the table. Sookie returned to them a few minutes later.

Raising the True Blood in a mocking toast, Pam told Sookie that her visitors had left. "They were sorry it was too much for your human sensibility. I'm assuming you didn't want to keep the trophies?"

Sookie's expression was stony – her attempt, Eric knew, to hold on to her composure. "No, I didn't want to keep the heads," she said. She sighed. "Kelvin and Hod, rest in peace."

In hell, Eric added for himself.

"Those were their names? That'll help in finding out who hired them," Pam noted. She drained the rest of Eric's bottle of blood and set it aside.

"Um… where are they?" Sookie asked.

Eric smiled a little, unable to help himself. "Do you mean your great-uncle and his elf buddy, or do you mean the heads, or do you mean the bodies?"

Sookie gave him a dry look on her way to the cabinet. She took a glass and walked to the refrigerator. "Both," she said. "All three."

"Dermot and Bellenos have left for Monroe," he told her as he watched her pour herself a soda. He explained that the fairy and elf had been very satisfied with their kill.

She sipped her drink. "I'm glad for them." Then she frowned. "I should tell Bill. I wonder if they found the car?"

"They found four-wheelers," Pam replied, grinning. "I think they had an excellent time driving them."

"So… the bodies?" Sookie asked with a wince.

"They've been dealt with, though I think the two of them took the heads back to Monroe to show the other fae. But they'll destroy them there," Eric assured her.

Sookie gave him a nod of grim satisfaction, and he saw that her shoulders relaxed slightly.

"Oh! Dermot left their papers," Pam said.

She disappeared into the hall and returned with the mens' meager belongings. Sookie saw the state of them and immediately found an old towel to spread over the kitchen table. With no ceremony whatsoever, Pam dropped the wallets and papers and went to the sink to wash her hands.

Gingerly, Sookie reached for one of the wallets and unfolded it. "Hod Mayfield from Clarice," she murmured, reading the name on the man's driver's license. "He was twenty-four." She searched the pockets and the clear, plastic photo and card sleeves, withdrawing a photograph of a fat woman, along with various identification cards and wrinkled receipts. Sookie handed him a worn card that read "Proof of Insurance" across the top. "That means he had a regular job," she said. She pulled out a stack of twenty-dollar bills. "Gosh, that seems like a lot."

"Some of our employees don't have a checking account. They cash their paychecks every time and live on a cash basis," Pam said.

"Yeah, I know people who do that, too," Sookie said. She fanned out the bills for them to see, and it was a little difficult because they were so new and crisp. "But this money is all twenties, right from the machine." She looked up at Eric. "Might be a payoff." Eric nodded but said nothing. He and Pam watched with minimal interest as Sookie searched the other man's wallet. He doubted that it would contain anything much different from Hod's, and he was right in thinking so. "I guess they could have taken me up to Clarice through the woods on the four-wheelers, but what would they have done with me then?" she mused. "I thought one of them…" Her forehead crinkled. "Through his thoughts, I caught a glimpse of an idea about a car trunk…"

Eric remembered opening a car trunk in Jackson and finding Sookie, raped and almost drained, in Bill's arms. He banished that thought quickly.

"Who do you think sent them, Sookie?" he asked.

"I sure can't question them to find out," she said, prompting a laugh from Pam. She suggested that the Pelt woman might have sent them, but for the fact that they weren't from Shreveport.

Eric disagreed with her on that; a person as obsessed with vengeance as Sandra Pelt could just as easily hire men from other places. In fact, she might be more likely to do so. "We've had eyes looking for her in Shreveport, but no one's spotted her," he said. He wouldn't be surprised if she had left the city altogether.

"So this Sandra's goal is to destroy you, your place of work, and anything else that gets in her way?" Pam asked.

"That sounds about right," Sookie said with a wry smile. "But evidently she's not behind this. I have too many enemies." She sighed.

Pam gave her a smirk. "Charming."

Before Eric could tell Sookie not to rule out Sandra, she asked Pam about Miriam.

"She's going to pass soon," Pam told her in a stony voice. "I'm running out of options, and I'm running out of hope that the process can be legal."

Considering that they were plotting the assassination of their regent, they had already abandoned "legal" as an option.

Eric's phone rang. Frowning, he stood and paced away as he flipped it open. "Yes?" he answered without bothering to look at the caller ID.

"Ah, my betrothed." It was Freyda.

"Your Majesty." His eyes darted over to Sookie and Pam, and he hurried to the living room. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"I have received the copies of your latest appeal, Eric," she said. "This rejection was handed down by the Ancient Pythoness."

"Yes."

"You realize, of course, that you have exhausted every option at this point, correct? I expect to have the marriage papers signed and returned to me by the end of next week."

"I had decided to remain optimistic that you might change your mind and take my own wishes into account."

She laughed, low and throaty. "Appius Livius' arrangement benefits both of us, Eric. Especially you. With everything I have offered you-" Distracted by a loud noise from the kitchen, he missed the end of her sentence. He ran back to Sookie and Pam. "Eric?" Freyda said. "Are you still there?"

The noise had come from Sookie's chair, which lay behind her on the floor. Her eyes flew to his, full of hurt and anger. He glanced at Pam, whose face told him everything.

"Excuse me," he said to Freyda. "There is a crisis. I'll return your call later."

"What-"

He closed the phone before she could say anything else. "Pam, I am very angry with you," he said slowly, struggling to keep his voice under control. "I am… seriously angry with you." In an effort to keep his fangs retracted, he clenched his jaw tightly until he could speak again. "Leave this house now and remain silent." It hadn't been a maker's order, but she obeyed him nonetheless.

When he heard the back door close behind her, he looked at Sookie. "I love you," he told her, and he wished that she could feel the truth of it, the unwavering strength of it. Then he told her everything. He would pause occasionally, giving her a chance to respond, but she had nothing to say. He turned away from her after the admission that he would be forced to put her aside, filled with a bitterness he could not keep from his voice. "I know you've always insisted that you weren't my true wife, so presumably that would not be so difficult for you." There was no sharp reply from her, and he met her eyes again, drawing reassurance from what he saw in her face: that it would be difficult. That she did care. "Though I believe it would be," he murmured.

Pam had been right all along. He should have told Sookie everything. She wasn't blaming him or ranting about vampires' ways or running from him. She was afraid to lose him. She might, perhaps, want to fight for him. If he had trusted her enough to give her the truth long before now, she might have been fighting alongside him. But all he could do now was assure her that he had done everything he could.

"Oh, no…" she whispered when he had finished. Her eyes were welling, but she seemed determined to keep her tears at bay.

"Oh, yes. I've appealed to Felipe, but I haven't heard from him. Oklahoma is one of the rulers eying his throne. He may want to placate her."Assuming he's alive. "In the meantime, she calls me every week, offering me a share of her kingdom if I'll come to her."

"So she's met you face to face," Sookie said.

He wasn't sure why she would assume that, but he nodded. "Yes. She was at the summit in Rhodes to make a deal with the King of Tennessee about a prisoner exchange." He stepped closer to her and took her hand. She didn't pull it away. "Sookie, you must believe that I had no knowledge of this beforehand, that I had no choice in the matter, and that I have done – that I am doing – everything in my power to undo it. I realize I should have told…"

Her gaze had wandered from his, and he spun around to see what she was looking at behind him. Bubba was grinning at them through the window over the sink.

Sookie pulled her hand away. She seemed grateful for the distraction. "Let him in," she said.

It was unlike her not to welcome a guest herself, especially one she liked as much as she did Bubba. Perhaps she simply wanted "a moment," as the humans put it. He did as she asked and met Bubba at the back door. Bubba sped inside, obviously eager both to escape the now pouring rain and to see Sookie.

Eric walked back to the kitchen at a normal pace, and when he arrived, Bubba was telling Sookie that Pam was still outside.

"You and Mr. Eric doing okay in here?" he asked.

Before either of them could reply, there was a knock at the front door. Unless Sandra had sent more of her hired men after Sookie, this had to be Colton and Audrina. Eric followed Sookie to the door just in case, and he could hear Bubba sloshing along behind him. Colton and Audrina were indeed the ones at the door, though Pam had evidently intercepted them first. She had a hand clamped on either of their shoulders.

"Please come in," Sookie said, stepping aside for them. Pam released them, and they hurried in as she looked up at Eric over Sookie's shoulder, not moving from her spot on the porch. "And you, too, Pam," Sookie insisted. "We need to put our heads together."

After Pam had stepped in and shut the door, the three of them returned wordlessly to the kitchen. Freyda was forgotten for the moment; they had to plan an assassination.

Chapter Text

Once everyone was situated around Sookie's kitchen table, or at the counter in Bubba's case, Eric said, "We have tolerated Victor Madden long enough, and the time has come to be bold. I suggest that we infiltrate his new club in the early hours of the morning, just before it closes. This will minimize the number of human casualties, and it might also ensure that some of the vampire staff is gone as well. There are many strong fighters in my area who would be happy to answer my call. Victor has few friends here."

"I don't know," Colton said rather timidly, looking as if he didn't want to contradict Eric. "I'm sure you got good fighters and all, but most of the vampires who work at the bar are subjects of Felipe. I mean, they work for Victor here in Louisiana, but Felipe is the guy they're loyal to."

"Why not just go for Victor alone?" Audrina said. She sounded much more confident about speaking up than Colton did. "We could attack him during the day – me, Colton, and Sookie. Then nobody else has to die."

"Except we don't know where he sleeps," Sookie pointed out.

Audrina flashed a grin. "I do. He sleeps in a big stone mansion. It's set back from a parish road between Musgrave and Toniton. There's one lone road in, and that's it. There aren't any trees around the house. It's just grass."

Eric had never heard of either Musgrave or Toniton, so they must be tiny, unincorporated communities out in the middle of nowhere. In any case, it was a moot point because Eric didn't want the humans going after Victor without the vampires' help. Knowing Victor, he would have guards during the day. And if the humans failed to kill him, Victor would know that Eric had been plotting. It simply wouldn't work.

The humans, unaware of Eric's thoughts, seemed to like Audrina's plan. Colton was nodding and smiling, and Sookie said, "Wow. How'd you track him down?"

"I know the guy who mows the yard. Dusty Kolinchek, remember him?"

"Sure."

According to this Kolinchek, Audrina said, Victor had only two daylight guards. "Dixie and Dixon Mayhew," she said, "and they're some kind of wereanimals."

"I know them," Sookie nodded. "They're werepanthers. They're good. They must be strapped for cash to work for a vampire."

Eric considered this. It was certainly more feasible to let the humans do the job if two Weres were the only obstacle. Two Weres who could easily be bought. "So maybe I could bribe the Mayhews if they're that hard up. You wouldn't need to kill them, then. Less mess." He paused, frowning. "But you humans would have to do the job since Pam and I will be down for the day."

"We'd have to search the house," Sookie added, "because I bet the Mayhews don't know exactly where he sleeps… though I'm sure they have to have a pretty good idea."

No, it was too risky. Even if he did bribe the panthers, they could just as easily report this to Victor in the hope of an even greater reward. And the fact of the matter stood that Eric did not want Sookie getting involved in such a risky scheme when he would be powerless to step in if needed.

Just behind him and to the side, Pam waved her hand. "What?" he said to her shortly. She raised an eyebrow at him, silently asking for his permission to say something. "Oh, you can speak."

"I think when he leaves the club in the morning would be a good time," she said, steering them back to Eric's original plan. "His attention is on whoever he's going to feed on, and we might be able to attack then."

It still didn't solve the problem of all the other vampires and humans who might be there. They all looked absently at each other, at the tabletop, or at the refreshments Sookie had set out. Bubba looked somewhat lost and uncomfortable.

Finally, Sookie sat forward in her chair. "I have a plan." She pointed at Bubba. "He's the way. Colton, Victor's a big fan of… of the King of Rock and Roll, right? I mean, there's stuff all over Vampire's Kiss."

"Yeah…" Colton replied, clearly as puzzled as the rest of them about where Sookie was going with this.

"So we arrange for him to come to Fangtasia for a special performance, and then we make our move."

The one potentially dangerous variable was the number of people Victor might bring with him. But Eric couldn't deny that the idea of cornering Victor at Fangtasia, with all the advantages of familiar ground and in such an unexpected way, had its merits.

"Victor might bring a larger entourage than we can handle," Pam said, her thoughts in line with Eric's.

"Not if we explain that it's for a very limited audience. And that'll make it sound even more exclusive and tempting," Sookie replied. She gave Bubba an encouraging smile. "Bubba, would you be willing to put on a show for the regent? He really likes the kind of music you sing."

"I don't know, Miss Sookie. It sounds like you all are going to get into some kind of trouble."

"You don't need to worry about that," she said. "Eric's going to take good care of us. We have to stop this vampire, Bubba, and we need you. Plus, I'd really like to hear you sing."

"Let me ask Mr. Bill. If he says it sounds okay to do it, I'll do it."

Oh, for fuck's sake, Eric thought.

Without hesitation, Sookie opened her phone and called Bill – who was still on her speed dial, Eric noticed. Once Bill joined them, Sookie told him about the plan, being careful about her wording as far as it involved Bubba.

"I think it's a mistake to tell him that he can't bring as many of his retinue as he wishes," Bill observed after a moment's thoughtful silence. "He will be immediately suspicious."

"But what if he brings too many?" Sookie asked.

"Let's bank on reverse psychology. If we don't seem concerned about the size of his party, he'll feel much more confident that he's safe."

They both gave Eric expectant looks, waiting for his opinion.

"I agree with Bill," he said. "If they do bring too many for us to overpower, we will all enjoy the show and proceed as if nothing was planned."

"And Bubba shouldn't be there – after the show," Bill added pointedly, and Eric answered this with a silent nod.

"Well?" Sookie said.

Bill took the stool across the kitchen counter from Bubba. "I think this is a good idea, Bubba," he said. "I myself will be there, if that makes you feel any better."

Bubba's face was still full of uncertainty, but he mumbled, "I s'pose I can sing for the regent."

"Excellent," Eric said. "I will contact Thalia, Maxwell, and some of the new residents. The key will be to distract or otherwise disable as many of Victor's people as possible before the actual fight. When-" He was distracted by the sound of Pam's chair scraping backwards, and he turned to see her leaving the kitchen, her phone at her ear. News of Miriam, no doubt.

"Are we gonna help?" Colton asked.

Eric raised an eyebrow. "Are you?"

"Yep," Audrina said firmly.

"Bill, how about you take Bubba on home with you?" Sookie suggested. "He might better rest up before tomorrow night."

Bill understood immediately, of course, and made no protest. "Would you like that, Bubba?" he asked, rising.

Bubba left with Bill just as a grim-faced Pam returned. For the next several hours, they proposed and rejected ideas, listened to Colton's very useful overview of Victor's usual bodyguards and hangers-on, and finalized their plans. The drinks were drained, the chips and dip were nothing more than crumbs on Sookie's serving platter, and the humans' mouths were increasingly gaping with yawns. Pam – when she was at the table with them and not outside on her phone – said almost nothing, which was quite unlike her.

Not a single one of them made any effort to disguise their relief when Eric closed the discussion. While Sookie escorted Colton and Audrina to the front door, where they had come in, Eric turned to Pam. They looked at each other but said nothing.

"You all right, Pam?" Sookie asked when she returned to them. "Is it Miriam?"

"I'm going to the hospital," she said dully, both answering and avoiding Sookie's question. She pulled her purse over her shoulder and walked out. They heard the back door close behind her.

Physically, only the kitchen table stood between himself and Sookie, but the silence felt more and more like a wall that could never be scaled.

You can get around any obstacle if you walk far enough.

He started by walking around the table to face her. "Can you put yourself in my place?" he asked. One of her hands was resting on the back of a chair, and he took it between both of his.

She looked up at him and shook her head. "No, actually, I can't." She swallowed. "I've been trying," she said earnestly, "but I'm not used to that sort of long-distance manipulation. Even after death, Appius is controlling you, and I just can't picture myself in that position." Her voice was angry, bitter.

"Americans," he muttered.

Always "freedom" this and "I have rights!" that. They had never been obliged to serve a feudal lord or a king or a tsar. They literally had no point of reference. They often used the phrase "I had no choice," but they had never known – not really – what it was like truly to have no choice.

"Not just Americans, Eric," she said.

He released her hand and took a step back. "I feel very old."

"You are very old-fashioned."

Was she implying that he was choosing this because of vampire tradition or some similar nonsense? Had he not made it clear that he could notdisobey? His temper flared. "I can't ignore a signed document. He made an agreement for me, and I was his to order. He created me."

"I'm so glad he's dead," she murmured, and it was not the response he had expected.

How much she had changed. On most occasions he welcomed the new, cold bent of her psyche, but at rare moments like this, when her face was stony and her eyes bitter, he regretted it. He took her hand again briefly and squeezed it before turning and walking to the door.

Chapter Text

"A private concert by Elvis Presley," Victor repeated. Even over the phone, Eric could hear the other vampire working to keep his voice level and nonchalant.

He smiled at the wall across from his desk. "That's right, though he is called Bubba now. Tomorrow night at Fangtasia."

"And I alone am invited?"

"You are the guest of honor, naturally, but we assumed that you would be bringing a select group of associates to enjoy the evening's events with you. My wife and Pam and a few of Fangtasia's better employees will be there as well." There was a heavy silence. "Should we expect you?"

After a few more seconds of silence, Victor said, "I would be delighted."

Eric made a few more calls to selected subjects, then laid his phone aside and leaned back in his chair, his hands clasped behind his head. Victor would be gone after tomorrow, leaving only one more thorn in his side: Oklahoma.

He decided to sleep at the bar, and it was close to dawn when he heard keys at the back door. It could only be Pam, and sure enough, she was the one who stepped through. If she was surprised to see him there, she didn't say anything. Nor did he remark on her blood-streaked face.

"I'm going to turn her tomorrow," Pam said at last, moments before they went to their rest. "Miriam."

Eric nodded. Victor had forbidden it, but Victor would be gone.

He was awakened by a loud crashing sound. In less than a second, he was awake and standing before the source of the noise: Pam had swept an entire shelf of souvenir shot glasses to the floor.

"What the fuck..." he muttered, staring at the glinting shards of glass strewn across the stock room floor. He looked up at Pam, his fangs still extended in expectation of a fight.

"She died," Pam said. His child's voice was usually laced with ennui or dry with sarcasm, but he couldn't remember another time when it had sounded lifeless. She held up her phone and lowered her arm again. "A few hours ago."

"Mr. Northman?" came a worried female voice from the other side of the office door. This was followed by loud, insistent knocking. "You okay in there, Mr. Northman?"

Before he could say anything to Pam, she slipped into the office bathroom. He heard the lock click into place. He glanced once more at the pile of glass on the floor and went to admit the employee who was knocking. Her knuckles were poised in midair, ready to knock again, when he pulled the door open.

"No one is hurt," he assured her, "but there is a mess to be cleaned. Go and get someone to help you."

She nodded in reply, eyes wide, and scampered off into the bar. Eric left the door open.