This is a sequel to my DeadPan Contest entry: 'The Case of the Stackhouse Demon' . I've posted it as a separate story because it doesn't follow the style of that story exactly, although it is still set in the late nineteenth century.

What was it that forced Eric and Suki Northman to leave London so suddenly? – all is revealed in this one-shot.

Special thanks to VicVega66 for her advice on the flow of the story. All mistakes are of course my own. The SVM characters belong to Charlaine Harris.

OOOooOOO-OOOooOOO

Extracts from the private journal of Mrs Suki Northman

Guildford and London 1890 -1897

My wedding night: In a few hours, I would truly be a woman. I stood in front of the mirror, appraising my appearance in the silk and lace gown I had inherited from my mother. My husband stood half hidden in the darkness across the room. How I loved to say that word. I murmured it under my breath, forgetting how acute his hearing was.

In an instant he was standing behind me. "Are you nervous, my beautiful wife?" I think he enjoyed saying that words as much as I enjoyed calling him my husband.

"No, I trust you," I smiled encouragingly.

We had shared some intimacy during our short engagement, and his constant reassurance and praise had given me confidence that I would not disappoint him.

He slipped his arms around my waist and leant down so his cheek touched mine. Our hair mingled, almost identical in colour. He moved his hands restlessly over the delicate fabric of my nightgown, cupping my breasts. I trembled with anticipation.

He stared at me, his face unreadable as he untied the ribbons of my gown. I closed my eyes, the warring emotions of nervousness and anticipation almost too much for me to bear.

"Look at me, my darling, I want to see you."

With that he slipped my gown down over my shoulders and past my waist, so that I stood before him naked.

"You have nothing to be ashamed of," he said, recognizing the embarrassment on my face, "you are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen."

He lifted me gently onto the bed. I leant back on my elbows, watching as he unbuttoned and removed his own clothing. My heart pounded in my chest. I had never seen a man completely naked before. The sight of him was both beautiful and terrifying. He lifted himself onto the bed, gently pushing my legs apart so he could kneel between them.

He lowered his head to kiss me on the mouth, then trailed kisses down my neck and shoulder. He was slow and tender, but all the while excitement was building within me.

"Please...please," I murmured.

A slow smile spread across his face. "What do you wish of me, my darling?"

His hand teased my breasts, then travelled lower, settling between my thighs. I gasped with shock and pleasure as he touched me intimately. Heat spread through my body and an aching sensation developed between my legs. I wasn't quite sure what it was I wanted, only that I craved his body as close to mine as it could be. I arched into his touch, encouraging him. I had no words to describe the sensations I experienced at that moment.

I felt him slip a finger inside me, and begin to move. The feeling was exquisite. He added a second finger. I felt a little stab of pain but it soon passed.

Withdrawing, he took my hand and guided it down to feel him. He gasped as I gently squeezed, then stroked him with my fingers. I had the strongest desire to kiss him there, but surely no lady would do that. I contented myself with moving my hand up and down, squeezing just a little. He gave a low moan, rumbling deep in his chest. It was thrilling to me to know that I was able to give him pleasure.

In a swift movement he pushed me back down onto my back and positioned himself above me. He entered me slowly, whispering words of encouragement into my ear. The anticipation was agonizing, I wanted him deep inside me, filling me, no matter if it caused me pain. I needed to know that I was his completely. I dug my fingernails into him willing him onwards. His eyes widened in surprise, but he thrust hard into me, causing me to cry out.

He withdrew immediately, his face full of concern. "Suki, darling, did I hurt you, was I too rough?"

"I want you, Eric, I want every part of you. I want you to…" I thought of some of the words I had overheard the garden laborers use, but they seemed too coarse for such a wonderful moment. Instead I instinctively lifted my legs and wrapped them around his waist, pulling him back closer. This time he needed no further encouragement. He thrust hard and deep, over and over, lifting my hips up off the bed as he did so.

Powerful sensations were building inside me, I felt as if I would explode with pleasure. I willed him deeper, his every movement bringing me closer to the release I craved. Suddenly it happened. As I cried out one last time, I felt his cold seed explode inside me. He too cried out, in a language which I could not hope to understand.

"Will it always be like that?" I whispered as I lay in his arms.

"Oh, no my dearest wife, it most certainly will not be," he smiled kindly, as a sudden wave of disappointment must have shown on my face. "It will be better, much better. You are the most perfect woman I have ever known."

I hesitated before continuing, but if I was going to find out the truth I wanted to know now. "I have heard that many husbands spend only a little time with their wives and prefer to seek true pleasure elsewhere."

Eric laughed. "In most cases that is because the husband is incapable of giving his wife the pleasure she desires. Many of these women take lovers as well you know. I believe that our friend Dr Compton's consulting room is full of them."

I relaxed a little and lay back on the bed. I enjoyed the sensation of lying naked on the cool cotton sheets.

"Is that your desire, my beautiful wife, to give me pleasure?"

"Oh yes, I want to learn to please you in every way."

"In that case I shall make sure to be an excellent tutor, but for tonight it is my intention to pleasure you, if you are ready for me."

I blushed and turned my head away, I was feeling a little sore but I did not want to disappoint him. I think he must have realized the reason for my hesitation.

"Do not worry my dear one, there are many ways to give you pleasure."

As he slid down my body, kissing and caressing me, I realized that he was right.

I must have fallen asleep eventually. When I awoke the room was as dark as pitch. My husband lay beside me on the bed, face down with his arm draped across my waist. He seemed paler than ever, almost ghostly white. He was quite unnaturally still, and his arm felt like a dead weight.

Surely he could not be dead. Life could not be so unfair as to bring me such happiness only to snatch it away from my grasp. I tried to slip a hand underneath his chest to feel for his heart but to no avail. Taking a deep breath I forced myself to stay calm.

My familiarity with the room enabled me to grope around until I located an oil lamp and some striking matches. As I looked for my night gown and robe, my eye was drawn to a note on the bedside table.

Dearest wife

My appearance during the hours of day may alarm you. Please believe me that whatever you see is quite natural and should cause you no concern. I will explain everything this evening.

Your loving husband

E

I dressed myself slowly, feeling just a little soreness. Carly gave me a knowing smile as she served my breakfast. I had my suspicions about her, having seen her once coming from the gardeners sheds with her clothing in a state of disarray. Now I had confirmation that although single, she was certainly no virgin.

Tara called on me later in the afternoon. It did not seem quite proper to admit to her how much I had enjoyed my wedding night. Having no mother, and few other female friends, there was no guidance for me on the proper way for a newly married lady to behave. The novels I read so eagerly contained no mention of the physical side of marriage. I had supposed it to be something quite distasteful.

My friend tried hard to persuade me to tell her what it had been like, but I kept my silence. Eventually she was forced to tell me her news. It appeared that Samuel Merlotte, knowing perhaps that he could never take me as his wife, was now paying her the most particular attention.

"Tara, that is wonderful. Do you return his affections?"

"He is very kind; I think I could grow quite fond of him. He is not as handsome as your husband is to be sure, but he is not unattractive. If he makes me an offer, I shall most certainly accept him."

"That is good to hear. I would like to see you settled, and I would hope you can find such happiness as I have found in marriage." I hesitated for a moment, wondering whether to carry on, fearful of embarrassing my friend. "Tara, please let Samuel know that I intend to make a marriage settlement on you, as a recompense for the friendship you have shown me."

She pulled away from me, her eyes flashing with anger. "I am not a charity case. My friendship cannot be bought Miss Stackhouse, I'll thank you to remember that."

"Tara, you know that is not what I think, not for one moment. My husband is very rich, and any money that I have goes to him anyway. I would hate to see your happiness ruined for want of money."

After several minutes silence she turned back to face me. "I know you mean kindly, Sookie. It is true that Samuel does need to marry a woman of some means."

"Then it is settled. I will have Father's lawyer make the arrangement and we shall never speak of it again. All I want is your happiness, now that I have found my own."

It was not quite dark when I returned to our bedroom; Eric was lying motionless in the exact same position in which I had left him that morning. I undressed myself, leaving only my corset and stockings in place. Tara and I had once discovered some photographs in the private section of father's library showing women in such a state of undress, so I supposed this was something that men liked.

His eyes snapped open and he was instantly alert, looking warily around the room. His expression softened as he saw me, bathed in the gentle glow of the oil lamp.

"I was worried about you; I feared for a moment that you were dead. If it had not been for your note, I do not know what I would have done."

"I am sorry," he said, sounding most unusually hesitant. "I should have prepared you for the shock. I was so overwhelmed by your beauty that it pushed all other thoughts out of my mind."

I blushed as he bent down to kiss me. He lifted his head and looked at me for a long while, a strange expression on his face.

"I have something to tell you, my Suki. I should have told you this before now, I hope you can forgive me."

A contorted expression played briefly across his face. He opened his mouth a little and, with a soft sound, two long teeth appeared in his mouth. They reminded of nothing so much as the fangs of a snake. I stared at him, unable to speak for some moments. "What are you?" I eventually managed to exclaim.

"I am Vampire." His voice was ominous

"What does this mean?" I was mystified. I had never heard the word before.

"I am dead, but not dead. Undead, you might say. My human life ended nine hundred years ago, in battle, in the land now known as Sweden. I lay dying on my funeral pyre, with only two faithful companions at my side. At the moment of my death I was attacked by the vampire Godric, he drained my blood and replaced it with my own. In this way he gave me an eternal existence."

"Is this why your skin is so cool, and your heart does not beat?"

"Yes, and why I can only move about at night. I was telling the truth, in a way, when I said I am allergic to sunlight. If I am exposed to it for more than a few minutes, I would burn up and meet my final death."

I struggled to take in what he was saying. It did explain all the strange characteristics I had noticed, such as the fact that I had never seen him touch food or drink.

"What will shock you the most is that I need fresh human blood in order to survive. I only need a little though, unlike some of my kind I do not have to kill for it. I promise you I will be discreet. You need never be aware of what I have to do."

"Eric Northman, I am your wife. If there is something you need, I will be the one to supply it for you." I couldn't stop a small tremor of fear as I uttered the words, but nevertheless I meant them with all my heart. Whatever the consequences I would be a true wife to him.

He bent down to kiss me, brushing his lips against mine gently. I parted my lips but he had moved on to whisper in my ear.

"I am so lucky, so very lucky to have found you. We will never be parted."

A shiver ran through me. I wished it could be true, but I knew that eventually age and death would part us. That thought made me even more determined to enjoy every moment we did have together, however brief. I tangled my hands in his hair and pulled his mouth back down on mine.

He removed my clothes in moments, and his own followed swiftly. This night there was no hesitation on my part. I was eager to rediscover all those new sensations and experiences which he had introduced me to.

I was shocked to find how eagerly I craved his body. I wanted to taste every part of him. His eyes flashed as I trailed kisses down his muscular chest to his stomach. I hesitated for a moment as I reached that most essential part of him.

"Do it, lover, take me."

Cautiously I trailed my tongue around the tip. The taste was not unpleasant, faintly salty. He moaned and tangled his hands through my hair. I sucked harder, taking in just a little more. His murmured words of encouragement emboldened me.

He began to move more urgently. I breathed deeply through my nose, preparing myself for everything he could give me. I swallowed hard, savouring the taste of him, drinking in his very essence.

Finally he pulled away, raising me up into a passionate kiss.

"Have I told you that you are magnificent, my darling."

I smiled broadly, unable to suppress the shiver of excitement that ran through me. This creature, this man, my lover, my husband: however I described him, the knowledge that I could give him such pleasure thrilled me to the core.

We spent several nights exploring each other's bodies. I have to confess that I had not realized that there were so many ways to make love. My husband was nothing if not adventurous.

My father's small household were, I believe, so pleased to see me find happiness that they overlooked the more unusual aspects of our daily routine. On most evenings Eric and I would spend a little time together when he first woke. We would then join my Father for supper. This would be followed by a little conversation. On some evenings I would play and sing, although I had to confess that my voice was not strong. Eric was able to make conversation on many topics, which seemed to please my Father, who now led a solitary life.

Those first few weeks of our married life, my main desire was to be alone with my husband. I had found the book which my Father had brought back from India, detailing the arts of love. We had much pleasure and not a little amusement following the instructions contained within.

I discovered that Eric's condition gave him an energy and stamina which I could not hope to match. I had begun to give him sips of my blood as we made love. Strange to say, the experience, though a little painful, was not unpleasant. If anything it heightened the experience of physical pleasure. It did however weaken me, which began to cause my husband some concern.

"Suki, darling, you may not feel ready for this, but please take a little of my blood, it will give you strength."

I was reluctant at first, fearful of the consequences. He tried to reassure me.

"There is nothing to worry about. This first time it will make you stronger, and heighten your senses, that is all."

He bit into his wrist and held it to my mouth. A faint shiver of disgust ran through me, but I remembered my wedding vows. As the taste filled my mouth I discovered a rich sweet taste that was not entirely unpleasant. He laughed as he pulled his wrist away. "Not too much at first, dear one, you will overheat."

Our honeymoon over, it was time to settle into a more permanent life together.

We established a small household in London. Eric had bought a fine town house, overlooking Eaton Square. He had a secure basement and several light tight rooms created. Naturally he used his glamour on the workmen so they would not speak of their mission.

We engaged only a few servants. Eric kept Robert Burnham as his valet. It took him a little time to adjust from their bachelor existence, and I had the strongest feeling that he disliked me for bringing this change into their lives. He became more tolerant as I made it clear that I would not prevent him from fraternizing with the female staff, provided he took full responsibility for the consequences of his actions.

Naturally I needed a ladies maid, and we also had a housemaid and a cook. We took our staff from one of the philanthropic ventures for fallen women, which had become popular thanks to the efforts of Mr Dickens several years ago. I found that these women were less prone to make judgments about our unusual lifestyle. We treated them with kindness, paid well and as a result earned their loyalty, or at least I believed so.

I did not participate in the social round expected of a lady of my standing. It was not easy for me to keep daytime hours, but I confess that I found most of the conversation trivial and tedious.

Almost by accident we established a small salon. Eric would invite people who interested him to supper no matter what their background. Unlike most people in our station in life he was not bound by the constrictions of class or what was proper. We had no pretensions to fashion or political influence, and as a result our evening soirees became very popular with those who wished to discuss politics, the arts, or the latest developments in scientific and intellectual thought in a free and easy atmosphere. I met Mr Oscar Wilde, who was always very amusing, and Mr George Bernard Shaw whose ideas on the place of women in society were of great interest, although he did have a most disagreeable habit of trying to grope me.

I confided in Tara that I must have been very good in a previous life, as the Hindoos of my childhood believed, to be blessed with such a perfect combination of physical pleasure and intellectual stimulation.

We had our disagreements, as all couples do. He thought I was too lax with the servants and let them take advantage of my good nature. I thought he devoted too much energy to his financial dealings. He had taken to investing in stocks and bonds, and naturally was very good at it, increasing what was already a large fortune. I tried to persuade him he should contribute more to charitable causes. There were so many poor and needy people in London, and it hurt me to see the half starved children begging in back alleys late at night.

However there was only one topic which caused a serious rift. He grew increasingly concerned about my mortal life.

"Suki, I cannot bear the thought of losing you. You must inevitably grow old. If you let me make you a Vampire, we can be together forever."

It was true that as each year passed the thought of ageing and growing old became of more concern to me. As I approached my thirtieth year I began to consider the idea more seriously. Eventually I agreed that once I reached my thirtieth birthday I would let him have his way. I did not dare leave it any longer.

I did not realize at the time the consequences of that decision.

We would often go out in the evening to public lectures and readings. Eric had a voracious interest in new ideas whether in science, literature or the arts. For myself I often struggled to keep up with him, but I was determined to make every effort to provide him with the companionship that he deserved.

I had to confess to finding some of the topics most difficult to follow. Dr Freud's theories for example were particularly challenging. Literary readings on the other hand were my favorite.

It was on one of these evenings, suddenly and without warning, that our idyllic life came to an end.

Eric was surprisingly reluctant to attend the reading by Dr Conan Doyle of his newest Sherlock Holmes stories, but he gave in to my plea. I found his tales so fascinating that I could not pass up on the opportunity to meet their creator.

The reading was just as entertaining as I had anticipated. Dr Doyle's plots were so cleverly constructed, and the intelligence of his detective so superior that one could not help but admire him. William Compton had accompanied us. He was an old acquaintance of Dr Doyle so I prevailed on him to introduce us. If I had not been so excited, perhaps I would have been more sensitive the tension building in my husband.

As we approached the author, who was surrounded by a small crowd, I realized he had another at his side. As William introduced us I noticed the flash of recognition that passed between the author and my husband, and wondered how they could possibly know each other.

He was completely charming to me. "Mrs Northman, you are every bit as lovely as I expected. It is a great pleasure to meet you. May I introduce Mr Stoker. He is the author of 'The Snake's Pass'. You may have attended his productions at the Lyceum."

"I believe I have read your novel." I could not honestly remember it, but tried my hardest to think of something polite to say. "We have attended some very fine entertainments at your theatre."

"I am very glad to hear that, Mrs Northman." There was something forced in his manner which made me nervous. "I am about to publish my new novel. I hope that this will be of equal interest to you. The subject is a very strange one, it concerns a race of people who live among us but are completely unknown to most humans. They have many unusual characteristics. Their hearts do not beat, and they need to feed on human blood to survive."

It took all my innate training to show no reaction to his words. I avoided meeting Eric's eyes, worried that a glance might give something away.

"How very gothic, Mr Stoker, pray do tell how you came up with such an unlikely idea."

"You may think it unlikely, but I believe that the creatures I describe truly do exist. It is my duty to alert my fellow man to the danger which lies unnoticed amongst us." By now his gaze was firmly fixed on Eric. I gave him my most seductive smile, trying to draw his attention away.

"I shall look forward to reading it, Mr Stoker, what is it to be called?"

"Dracula."

"Come my dear, it is getting late, we should return home," Eric said quietly but firmly.

I was in no mood to argue. I wanted nothing more than to leave the company in which we had found ourselves. We exchanged the normal pleasantries and within a few minutes were in our carriage on the way back to Eaton Square. We passed the journey in silence, holding each other hands tightly.

"How can he know?"

"I do not know. It is possible that Dr Doyle had something to do with it, unfortunately he found out something of my true nature at a time when I was weak and vulnerable."

"What are we to do?"

"I think perhaps we should go abroad for a while. Haven't you always said that you wished to travel? After a few years the fuss will die down. After all, who remembers his first novel now? You had read it, but it meant nothing to you. Trust me, in a few years time no-one will remember the name of Dracula and we will be able to return and live as normal."

I bit my lip in an effort to hold back the tears. I loved our life in London. I was close enough to my family home to be able to visit my father from time to time. To my great happiness Tara had married Samuel Merlotte and they had a fine family of four children, two girls and two boys. I had stood as Godmother to the eldest girl, they were after all the closest I would ever have to my own children.

I used to spend several weeks with them every year, leaving Eric to his business dealings in London. The thought of not seeing them for months, or years hurt me more than I could have thought possible.

We agree that we would spend a last few days with my family before leaving. We could not tell them the truth about why we needed to set off at such short notice. We travelled down to Guildford a few nights later. I spent my last days with Tara and the children, trying to commit their every word and gesture to memory. By the time I saw them again they would probably be grown, and Tara a grandmother.

It was hard to leave my father, knowing that he would be alone with only Jai Singh to care for him. His manservant was fiercely loyal but could never bring him the comfort which a daughter could. He took our news in good part. I believe he had always felt responsible for my childlessness, despite my assurances that it meant nothing to me.

Finally the day came to leave. We were to travel overnight to Liverpool to make the Atlantic crossing on the Lucania, the fastest and most luxurious liner of its day. There was just one thing I craved before we finally departed. There was a full moon, and I wanted just once more to ride out, to say goodbye to the England that I loved.

At this point the journal ends with no further entries.

Letter from Eric Northman to Pamela Ravenscroft

I know that you have felt my call. Please do not try to resist me. I have terrible news to impart and I need to have you at my side.

I must share with you the last memory I have of my beautiful wife. We were in the country to bid farewell to her family and friends, possibly forever. She insisted on taking one last ride through the countryside. I heard her laughing as she galloped off ahead of me. It was a bright moonlit night, and I couldn't help but admire how desirable she looked, clad in her pale riding trousers, her small behind bobbing up and down.

I could feel the heat of desire building in me. When we reached the clearing after the next field, I would be forced to mount her right there and then. My darling wife was nothing if not adventurous. She adored making love in the open air, the soft breeze caressing her tender flesh.

I had a vision of her lying beneath me, her white riding shirt open to reveal those perfect breasts.

Without warning I heard a shriek, and her horse reared up. I could see her struggle to retain her mount but to no avail, she was dashed to the ground. I leapt from my own horse and raced over to where she lay. I could tell at once that she was dying. I have smelled death thousands of times, the essence of the soul leaving the body is unmistakable.

"Suki, darling, you must let me save you." But even as I raised my wrist to my mouth I knew it was too late, she was too far gone. She managed to whisper some final words to me.

"Eric, I can see a light. She is coming for me, the woman from my dreams. She will take me into the portal. I understand now the meaning of those dreams. I am to be saved. She is here, Eric, she is here." With that her eyes closed and she breathed no more.

I wept bloody tears as I carried that poor broken body back to the house. Jai Singh met me at the stables. He had been waiting for us to return with the horses. He knew at once what had happened and without a word helped me take her body up to one of the bedrooms.

"I will tell the Master," he said, "and arrange for a doctor."

I was grateful for his help. At that moment, for the first time in many centuries, I found myself incapable of action.

I spent most of the evenings until the funeral sitting in the walled garden where we had often spent the warm summer evenings. We had had the garden stocked with night scented plants, and we often took advantage of the privacy it afforded to make love under the stars.

It must have been the memories I had of my Suki which explained the experience I had on the night before her funeral. Vampire cannot dream, and we do not hallucinate as humans sometimes do. Nevertheless I cannot deny what I saw: a strange and beautiful woman walking towards me. Her appearance was so ethereal that I doubted she was real.

"I am Suki's guardian, she knew me from her dreams. Know this, Northman. We have taken her to the Summerland. We could not allow you to turn her, this was not her destiny. She will grow stronger with us, she will develop powers greater than you can imagine."

I wanted to question her but she stilled me.

"You will be reunited. I cannot say when or where, but it is your destiny. One day you will find her and you will know." With that she was gone.

I know, Pamela, that it does not please you to be forced to leave Paris. I realize that the city suits you well and provided you with many lovers, not to mention a very fine wardrobe. As my child, you have no choice but to answer my call. I do not care to make the long journey across the Atlantic alone.

The journey is an easy one now. I have a passage booked on the Lucania, intended for my wife and I. There will be enough passengers, particularly in Steerage, to sustain us with fresh blood for the journey.

We shall travel to New Orleans. Our old friend Sophie Ann-Leclerq is now settled there, and she was always particularly fond of you. Once we are established I will allow you to go your own way.

You need not concern yourself for money. I have amassed a considerable fortune through my financial dealings. I shall leave some in Europe in case we ever need to return, but otherwise I will have sufficient to maintain a comfortable life for us both in the New World.

I expect you within the week.

Letter from Eric Northman to Dr William Compton

My friend

I write to you from the deck of the Lucania. England has long disappeared from view, and I feel sure that I shall never see her again, certainly not in your lifetime.

I am travelling with Pamela. Robert Burnham, his wife and young son are our only companions. There should have been another, but even now her image is fading from my mind. My memories of our time together in England grow more distant.

I wish that I could explain to you the reason for our departure. My mind is strangely cloudy. I feel as if under the influence of some spell, or perhaps a curse. Memories which were once important to me have somehow been sucked out of my mind. I do not know if they will ever return.

If you receive this letter please keep it safe. I feel that in the future it may have some significance. I hope that you will also retain the journals that you kept of our time together. They are, perhaps, not suitable for publication. I suspect that the audience does not yet exist for such heady content. Perhaps at some future time, they will see the light of day and our story will be known.

Yours etc etc

Eric Northman