Over My Dead Body by PersianFreak

Disclaimer: Everything belongs to Charlaine Harris. Please don't sue.

Rating: T, possibly M for later chapters

A/N: I know, I know, I have to write another story but this plot bunny wouldn't leave me alone and I couldn't help myself. As is tradition, the first chapter is very short because I want to see what you guys think (so please let me know what you guys think) before I write the rest of the story.

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My life had never been easy or predictable, so one might think that I would have seen it coming. I could have saved myself a whole lot of trouble if I had, but as I have to point out way too often for my liking, I am not psychic.

It was a good night. I could tell because the cool breeze that blew was the perfect temperature and the moon was full. I could tell because my birthday was a mere week away and judging by the hints he was so casually dropping, Eric had big plans for me, and I could tell because after over two hundred years of living (or not living; how ever you want to look at it) the way I had, there isn't much that goes wrong that cannot be fixed. But you already know something bad is going to happen, because that's what you get when you become overconfident in life.

Fangtasia was having a typical night; not too empty but not over-flowing either. I was sitting beside Eric, leaning slightly into him on our throne when I felt his mind do a freefall.

"What?" I followed his gaze and found nothing out of the ordinary; just the typical mix of humans and vampires. "What is it?"

"Runa," His voice was a mere whisper and his eyes were still glued to what I now saw was a woman. That monster called Jealousy reared its ugly head and took her in.

"Runa?" I frowned. I tested the way it rolled off my tongue; sure that I had heard it before and that it should mean something to me I studied the woman; she was beautiful, breathtakingly so. Her hair was lighter than mine and fell in thick waves down her back, her blazing blue eyes darker than both mine and Eric's; so dark, in fact, that were it not for the occasional flashes of light in the bar, I would have mistaken them for black. She stood slightly taller than me, her low-cut dress shimmering invitingly on her lean body as she calmly took in the Shreveport nightlife. Eric's mental grasp on the situation was destroyed as her extracted fangs caught the light a mere second before her eyes met my husband's.

"Eric?" I nudged him, finally turning my head to see him wearing the most perplexed expression I had ever seen him wear, "Eric?" Jealousy gave up then, and was quickly replaced by his second cousin, Desperation. I decided to snoop, opening the bond and cautiously probing Eric's mind, quickly regretting the decision altogether. His mind was a whirlwind of memories of a woman identical to the one in the bar; smiling at him, dressed beautifully in white at a wedding, making love to him- I winced and pulled back; I definitely did not need to see that. The woman -Runa, my mind corrected- was now walking towards us, casually making her way through the crowd.

"Sheriff," she inclined her head, her eyes never leaving Eric's, and I watched as his returned the favour.

'Eric?' I changed tactics and decided to send him my thoughts.

'Sookie...' His mindvoice was faint, 'It's her. It's my wife.'