Summary: Arlene was pulled into a new world she had never known before as she opened her birthday present. Could she go out of there before it's too late?
At The Dead Center
Viktor With K
"It's a mistake," said Arlene between breaths. "We should stop, Viktor."
"Eric. My name is Eric," the man pressed her against the wall beside her apartment's door. "Let me in, and I'll prove to you that it's not a mistake." He kissed her neck. "Please..."
Arlene pushed him away. Viktor or whatever his name was moved back a few steps. His face was still pale, but his eyes blazed with lust. His mouth was half open. Clearly, he didn't expect she would have done that.
"Look," said Arlene and sighed when she saw her blouse had lost two buttons. This man was strong and eager...too eager for her tastes. "This is a mistake. It's all this crazy idea from a friend of mine that I should go out with a man from a sex-service...I mean, escort service. Yes, we had a good time; I don't deny it. You're a good dancer, and the movie was excellent, but that's it. I can't take you in."
"Why not?"
"Viktor..."
"Eric."
"Viktor, Eric...whatever, tomorrow is my birthday. I am going to be forty."
That man lifted his eyebrow.
"I know, I know, it's not an age, life begins at forty, blah, blah, blah...the point is, I've never used an escort service before, and I am not sure if I want to have sex with a total stranger. This whole idea of going out with an escort was fun until I actually did it. You know what I mean?"
"Escort service?"
"Yes, escort service...or what do you call it? Gentlemen companions? Anyway, a friend of mine had this brilliant idea for my birthday present: a gentleman from an escort service, a hotel room and a day-off tomorrow. 'Everything is taken care of,' she said. 'All you've got to do is go to the hotel and meet Viktor. Viktor with k sounds exotic, isn't it? He's tall, has blond hair and blue eyes. He will wear dark green suit, black shirt and a silver ring.' So, I went there; I saw you, and you know the rest." Arlene sighed. She should've listened to her heart when it told her to leave the hotel and ignored the familiar warm feeling in her pants! Instead, like a giddy school girl, she had agreed to go to a night club not so far from the hotel and to watch the last show in a theater. She had even said yes when Eric asked whether he may take her home.
He fixed his jacket's collar. He looked offended. "I am not from an escort service. I thought you hit on me because you liked me."
"Say again?"
"I am not from an escort service. I thought you..."
"Yeah, yeah...," Suddenly Arlene felt stupid. If he wasn't from an escort service, then… "Who are you?"
"I am Eric. Eric Northman."
Arlene felt her face hot. "You are not Viktor with k?"
"No. I am Eric with c."
"Dear Lord!" Arlene covered her mouth with her hands. "I am so sorry...I thought..."
Eric came closer to her. "Don't be. I am not."
"But...but your hair is blond, and your eyes are blue! You also wear dark green suit and a silver ring. That's Viktor's description!"
"This is not a silver ring," said Eric. He'd cleared his throat before he said 'silver', as if that word could harm him. "It's white gold, and a lot of men wear dark green suits. I suppose, it is my lucky suit." He was getting closer. His hands were now on her hips again. "Let me in," his voice was soft, but Arlene could catch the commanding tone in it. "If tomorrow is your birthday, let me make you feel like you were reborn."
Arlene held his hands. She didn't want them to move or to do anything that made her more nervous than she already was.
It had been a long time since she'd been with a man. Since her divorce two years ago, she had focused on her work. She didn't want to fall in love again only to...wait, who talked about falling in love? Eric had offered sex. Only one night, and that was it. She could cut him loose afterward.
She just hoped it's going to be easy when she did it. Eric was in his 20s and good looking. He had a pair of piercing blue eyes and long blond hair. He's at least 6'3" tall. He's pale and not that muscular; however, judging from his movements, he wasn't a kind of person who would spend his days indoors. She had felt how strong his grip was. Having sex with him must be good!
"Arlene...," Eric rolled the 'r'. "If you thought I was supposed to be your birthday present, then unwrap me."
Right...unwrap him...dear Lord, where did this man learn how to pitch woo? Cheap romance books?
His cold lips were right above hers, but they didn't move. Strange, she didn't feel any air coming out of his mouth, which hovered over hers like a hungry boy in front of a candy jar.
She tiptoed and was about to kiss him when a hoarse voice called her name:
"Mrs. Fowler?"
They turned to the source of the voice. Eric pulled her behind him. It was either an instinct or a surprised reaction; either which, it startled her. She heard the sound of 'click' and snarls. Were there...dogs? She popped up her head. No, there weren't any dogs. Three men were standing in front of them. They looked intense. Their hands were balled into fists, and they looked as if they were ready to attack. She didn't know those men; why did they look so hostile? Did Eric know them? Arlene looked at him and didn't find any expression on his face. Only his eyes were narrowing.
"Yes?" asked Arlene nervously.
"I am Jackson Hervaux," the man in the middle said. He was the oldest among them. "I am a friend of Miss Selah Pumphreys. Do you know where she is? I've been trying to contact her the whole evening without success."
So, this is the Jackson Hervaux, Arlene thought. The name was spoken several times by Selah, but Arlene had never met him in person.
Now he was standing in front of her. Jackson Hervaux was almost as tall as Eric. He had a military haircut and a pair of alert green eyes. He didn't move a lot, but Arlene could tell: the hands that were hanging beside his strongly built body were ready to send a blow.
"Have you tried her cell phone?" asked Arlene, after she had managed to push away an uncomfortable feeling that had come without invitation. She didn't like the alertness she was witnessing; it made her feel as if she had been standing between two opponents.
Hervaux nodded. "I've even tried her emergency phone number."
Selah had given him her emergency phone number? Hervaux case must have been very important for her. As far as Arlene knew, only two people had that number: Selah's mother and herself.
"I am sorry, Mr. Hervaux," Arlene said. "I don't know where she is."
"If she calls you...please tell her to contact me as soon as possible. It's urgent."
Arlene nodded.
"I am sorry for interrupting your evening, Ma'am."
"Oh, that's okay." Almost as if she regretted saying it, she continued with a low voice, "it's about to be over any way."
Hervaux nodded and walked away. The other men looked at Eric one more time, before they nodded at her and followed Hervaux.
Arlene felt somehow relieved. Something told her they knew each other, and their acquaintance didn't seem to be on friendly terms. Something also told her, Eric had better leave.
As if Eric heard what she had in her mind, he turned around and said, "I'm staying."
"Excuse me?"
"They're dangerous people. I won't leave you alone tonight. Your friend doesn't know what she got herself into."
"And you do?"
"No, but I can tell from their faces they are serious about whatever your friend is dealing with."
"Wait a moment, Eric...right? I don't know you, and I don't know what we might have had tonight, but it's a mistake. I..," her sentence was cut off as Eric grabbed her and pushed her against the door. With one hand holding her in position and with the other angling her chin and lips upwards towards his, he kissed her. Before long, Eric didn't need to hold her face anymore. She answered his kisses. When his cold hands went under her blouse and softly touched her skin, she gasped. His hands were as cold as ice.
"Open the door and let me in," she heard his voice growling.
"My keys...they're inside my purse..."
She heard the sound of her keys rattling. Then, the door was open.
"Invite me in."
"What?" Arlene didn't believe what she heard. The door was wide open; why did he need an invitation?
"Invite me in." He sounded impatient.
Arlene held his neck. What the heck, she thought. Whatever will be, will be. One thing for sure, she didn't intend to let this six foot plus tower of horniness go.
"Eric, would you come in?"
BAM! Eric kicked the door shut as soon as they were inside. "I must warn you," he smirked. "I bite."
She looked at him. Was that supposed to be a warning? She looked up and saw flickering lights in his eyes. This man was totally horny! "I bite too," she said, teasingly.
Eric opened his jacket and threw it on the floor. Arlene kicked her shoes and laughed as he lifted her and growled, "Your bedroom?"
Everything seemed to happen very fast. The next thing she knew, they were on her bed. It's a mistake, again the voice in the back of her head warned her. I don't know this man. Inviting him on my bed is a huge mistake.
But the voice was slowly getting weaker, and she couldn't hear it anymore once Eric started disrobing her. He seemed to know just how and where to touch. His cold fingers ran on her skin like the melting ice and awoke a new sensation she couldn't describe. With each touch, her heart jumped, and her body reacted wildly. She saw goosebumps popping up on her skin; she heard herself moaning and sighing. As she watched him kissing downward, she grabbed the sheet, trying to prevent the sudden feeling of excitement from bursting out.
"I warned you, lover," Eric lifted his face. His blue eyes were glossy from lust. "I bite."
"Then bite, for crying out loud!"
He bit indeed. As he buried his mouth on her thighs, she wailed. Dear Lord, it was painful! She felt as if she had been slashed by a knife, or stitched with a needle. She swore; instead of teeth, Eric must have had a set of fangs! She raised her head to see what Eric was doing; however, before she managed to do it, his hand had reached out and covered her face.
"Lay down, lover," she heard him growling, "and enjoy."
Arlene let herself fall back and did what Eric had told her. She closed her eyes and enjoyed every touch and bite he was giving her. As painful as it might be, his bite aroused her like nobody had ever done to her before...or was it the result of the ten years of marriage and two years of abstinence? She had slept with the same man for the whole ten years, she didn't know how she would feel to sleep with another man, and then no man at all after her divorce. Now, she's having a much younger man, who was touching and biting her as if there would be no tomorrow.
She covered her face with her hands as he was entering her. Her heart was racing faster and faster as he pulled and pushed her body. At some point it was so fast that she was afraid it would explode at any minute. She then felt his cold tongue licking her leg again, on and below where he had bitten, arousing her even more. Finally she couldn't hold it anymore; she let out a loud scream.
Then, everything was quiet. She didn't, couldn't hear anything else but the sound of her heartbeat, beating wildly. She sighed, "Oh, Eric...,"
Eric let her legs go only to lay down beside her and softly said, "Turn around."
Arlene didn't know how long it was going on; frankly, she didn't care. Every time he was inside her, her body reacted madly. She could only close her eyes and let him do what he pleased because at the end, she was the one who was pleased. When he finally reached his orgasm, she heard him moaning and speaking in a language she didn't understand. She held him tightly and felt like a broken twig when he was exploding inside her. Dear Lord!
Eric threw himself beside her. He licked his lips. His eyes were bright, but he didn't shed any sweat. He didn't have short breath, either. Opposite to him, Arlene almost couldn't breathe.
"Happy Birthday, Arlene Fowler," he smiled. "May you be given a long and happy life."
She smiled. "Thank you, Eric."
"Do you feel like you are reborn now, or shall I do it again?"
Arlene chuckled. "Are you always like this? Your poor girlfriends."
"They don't complain."
"I bet they don't." Arlene touched his face. "Will you stay the night?"
"I'd love to, but I can't. I have..."
"It's okay," Arlene interrupted him. What did she expect? It was a one night stand after all. "Make sure you turn off the lights when you leave. I don't think I can leave the bed now."
He kissed her forehead. "Forgive me, lover, but I also have to make you forget about the night."
"Don't worry, Eric." Arlene tried to sound as casual as possible. "You're good in bed, you really are, but we both know, it isn't meant for a longer relationship or any kind of relationship."
"That's not what I mean."
Arlene grabbed his neck and kissed him. "It's a wonderful night, and you're such a wonderful birthday present. Let's keep it that way, shall we?"
"Arlene...,"
"Psst," she put her finger on his lips. "Don't worry, Eric. I am fine. By morning, I will forget you." She laid her head down. Tiredness suddenly came over her. "Good night, Eric and goodbye."
-1-
Sam Merlotte
A loud bang on the door forced Arlene to get down from the bed, wrap the blanket around her and drag herself to the door. She had heard the bell, but she was too lazy to get up. It was her birthday, for God's sake! Didn't a woman deserve to have a longer day in bed on her own birthday?
She peeped through the hole on the door and saw Holly Cleary, Selah's secretary, standing in the hallway. She looked nervously over her shoulder, as if she was looking for someone.
Arlene opened the door. "Holly, what are you doing here?"
"I...," Holly looked at her; her mouth dropped, but soon, she managed to pull herself together and said, "Ms. Pumphreys asked me to come to you if I didn't hear from her today. She didn't come to the office today, Mrs. Fowler."
"What time is it?"
"Half past two."
Dear Lord, she had slept that long?
"Did Ms. Pumphreys call you or say anything to you?"
Arlene shook her head. Why were people looking for Selah? What had she done?
"Do you know where she is?"
Again, Arlene shook her head.
Holly bit her lips. Clearly she was worried, but about what? "Thank you, Mrs. Fowler; I am sorry to drop by without notice and bother you in your day off," she said, trying to smile, but her smile faded away as soon as it appeared. "Happy Birthday, Mrs. Fowler, I am really sorry."
"Thank you, Holly."
Holly was stepping down the staircase, when Arlene decided to ask her. "Holly, do you know anything about Hervaux case?"
Holly turned to her; her face was pale. She looked more worried than before. "No, I don't. Shall I look into it for you, Mrs. Fowler?"
She lied, Arlene was sure of it. "No, it won't be necessary." she said. She didn't want Holly to get suspicious and do something stupid like removing the file. She was about to close the door when Holly suddenly said, "Actually...I have something for you."
Arlene opened the door wider. Holly walked to her and opened the clasp on her necklace. "I want you to have this necklace, Mrs. Fowler, as a birthday present."
"Oh, Holly, it's really not necessary...,"
"I insist, Mrs. Fowler." Holly put the necklace in her hand. It was a necklace with a three-crescent-moons pendant; two of them were side by side and the other one was on top of them. A white stone was on its center, and another was on its drop."This is an old necklace and probably has no value at all. It's silver. The triple moon pendant symbolizes a woman's life: as a maiden, a mother and a crone. The one who sold it to me said if we believe in it strongly, it can protect us from any harm and help us to see wisdom in the time of troubles."
Arlene looked at the necklace on her hand. "It's a beautiful necklace, Holly. Thank you."
Holly smiled. "My mother used to say, 'If you want to give a person a gift, give them something you love.' And I love this necklace very much." She pressed it into Arlene's hand and ran down the stairs.
Arlene watched her figure until it was gone. What was going on? She had to find out. She had to go to the office or Selah's house and check for anything that connected her to Jackson Hervaux.
She put the necklace on the table, threw the blanket to the sofa and went to the bathroom. As she caught her own image on the mirror she screamed, "Dear Lord!"
There were bruises all over her body; on the arms, legs, breasts and when she turned around; she saw more bruises on her back, ass and legs.
She moved closer to check if she had also bruises on her neck or not and felt relief when she saw none. What had Eric done to her? As much as she loved their sex; she didn't want to look like a victim of an assault case! Jesus! If they ever had sex again, she would make sure Eric would never bruise her again or she would call the police!
Arlene sighed. If they ever had sex again...heh! It's unlikely for them to see each other again! She didn't know his address or phone number; of course, if he was really Eric Northman like what he said and not Viktor.
Arlene pushed those thoughts aside. She had better things to do than think about a male escort now. She had to go to the office and looked through Selah's files. She couldn't afford to stay in the dark like this. The law firm Fowler & Smith (it was Selah's idea to use 'Smith' instead of 'Pumphreys', because it sounded more elegant) belonged to her as much as it was Selah's. It wasn't a big firm and has only a few clients; still, it was her source of income and a large part of her life. If Selah got involved in something that endangered the continuity of the firm, and she didn't know anything about it, she would look like a fool!
She climbed into the shower cabin and turned on the hot water. "Shit!" she screamed as the water fell down on her body and touched the wounds. She felt as if her body had been stitched with a thousand needles. Every inch of her body was hot and in pain. She made a mental note that day, never to let Eric or any man bite her again. Ever!
-2-
The Fowler and Smith Law Firm office looked dimmed. Its ivory walls, which had shone brightly at the beginning of its existence around two years ago, now started blur. Some parts of it had even begun to crumble.
Selah and Arlene formed the firm after Arlene had left her position at Jones, Baumberg and Fowler. She couldn't work there anymore. She couldn't face the fact that her husband, who was one of the firm's owners, had cheated on her with her own secretary. She could've pretended nothing had happened; that her professionalism had stayed intact and not been influenced by her personal matters. However, she couldn't lie to herself that she didn't notice the whispers, or the looks the people at the firm had given her.
They had to struggle from the beginning. The clients she brought with her from the old firm weren't many, but enough to support the life of the firm during the first two or three months. After that, they had to find new clients. John, her ex-husband, had offered to work as a sub-firm, but she had refused it. She didn't want to have anything to do with him again. She wanted to start a new life, away from him, personally and professionally.
Sam Merlotte, her secretary, looked at her in disbelief. "I thought you would stay at home, Ma'am," he said.
"I changed my mind. Did Selah call in yet?"
Sam Merlotte was one of Selah's people. Arlene didn't know where Selah had found him, but she couldn't complain about it. Sam was very good with his work. He was neat and organized.
"No, Ma'am," he said. "Mr. Hervaux called and asked about her too."
"Oh, where is she?" she murmured. "What happened to her?"
"I don't know, Ma'am, but I am worried." Sam sighed. "It's not Selah whom I know."
He and Selah must have gone back for a long time, since both of them were in first name basis since day one. Arlene could understand his feeling for she's also worried. She took a chair and sat beside him. "Do you know something that I don't?" she asked. "Is she involved in something dangerous?"
Sam blinked. "I...," he fingered his wavy brown hair. "I...don't feel comfortable discussing this with you, Ma'am."
"Cut the crap, Sam. If she's in some kind of trouble; as her partner, I have the right to know."
"It's...it's not that simple, Ma'am. Selah's family and the Hervaux have known each other for years. Jackson is facing a family dispute now and wants to have Selah's advice about it."
"What kind of family dispute?"
Sam cleared his throat. "His family business is electing a chairman. Jackson wants Selah to find out whether the new chairman candidate is a part of Hervaux' clan or not."
"Didn't they ever hear anything about DNA?"
Sam didn't answer. His eyes blinked rapidly; after a while, he said, "It's not only that, Ma'am. Jackson suspects that the new candidate works with their rivals to destroy their company."
"That's a serious accusation, Sam. Does he have proof to support his accusation?"
"No, that's why he wants Selah to go through some papers and find some people for them. I actually want to take some days off," Sam continued with his eyes down to the ground, "to help her with the case," he added hastily.
"We don't have so many cases, Sam." Heh, that was an understatement. They had only two. One was the Jackson's case, and the other was a minor case of public disorder. A man was found naked in the park. He didn't remember how he got there and why he had been naked at the first place. They were going to have their first hearing on four days. She had enough time to prepare her case. "I think you can go if you want. Maybe you can also try to contact her."
"I will Ma'am," he said. "Thank you."
"Don't thank me yet," Arlene stood up, "because when she returns, I'll kick her ass so hard she will be very mad that you found her!"
"I'll make sure you're able to do it, Ma'am," despite the sternness in his voice, Sam smiled.
"Before you go, could you please take out all papers about Hervaux case? I want to take a look at them at home and see what I have been missing."
Sam fingered his hair and bit his lower lips. This man was definitely nervous and worried. Arlene wasn't sure whether he was worried about Selah or about the things she might find out in those documents. Whatever it was, she must get those documents.
She stood up and walked to Selah's office.
"Mrs. Fowler...," Sam grabbed her hand. She shot him a sharp look. He let her hand go. "The documents are not at the office anymore."
"What? Where are they?"
"Holly has taken them."
"What? What's going on here?"
Suddenly Sam turned around and sniffed. "I don't have enough time to explain. We have to leave, Mrs. Fowler. Now!"
Before Arlene could protest, Sam had grabbed her hand, snatched his own bag on the way and dragged her along with him.
"Sam...!" Arlene wanted to pull away her hand, when she heard somebody...something...growled and roared on the hall way. The hair on the back of her neck stood. Dear Lord, what was that? It sounded like animal.
Arlene ran as fast as she could, as the sound of the growling animals was getting louder. Sam turned his head from time to time to check whether she was still behind him or not. Sam kicked the door that led to the stairs to the first room, but then, he turned around and said, "Take the trash pipe, Mrs. Fowler. I'll try to stop them!"
The trash pipe was the garbage disposal system that would take the garbage straight to a big container behind the building.
Sam opened the pipe's cover. "Go straight home and call Mr. Fowler. Please, ask him to help you leave town as soon as possible. It's not safe for you to stay here!"
"But..."
"Trust me on this, Mrs. Fowler. It's for your own safety!" Sam took her hand, as Arlene bent her body to enter the pipe.
The growling sound was getting louder. Now, she even could hear the sound of their steps approaching. It seemed there were several of them.
"What about you, Sam?"
He clinched his jaws. "I'll call you as soon as I am able." He pushed her inside, and let the cover fall. Arlene caught a glimpse of red lights coming towards them before she slid down along the pipe. She bit her lips tightly and closed her eyes as she fell freely.
Her body didn't make much noise as it hit the black bags in the container. Arlene removed some paper and plastic that stuck to her body, before she jumped out of the container. Without turning around she ran to her car and like a maniac, she left the building.
On the west the sun was slowly going down. As if the nature wanted to mock her, the sky was covered with layers of colors: yellow, orange, blue, black and bright red; they mingled and were twisted like the colorful costumes the dancers wore as they danced on the streets during a carnival, laughing and smiling, not to care whether their watchers were having good or the most miserable time in their lives.
-3-
John Fowler
Arlene's hands were shaking as she dialed her ex-husband's number. From the minute she stepped out of the car, she'd run all the way to her apartment. She couldn't shake the feeling that she was being followed by whatever the hell that was back at the office. Even once she was back inside her own home, where she should feel safe and protected.
"We have to meet! Please, John. I wouldn't ask you if it wasn't urgent."
"Hey, hey, slow down." His deep voice reached her ears. Arlene didn't realize how much she had missed hearing his voice until now. It felt like a glass of cool water on a hot day; it calmed her down, made her feel somehow safe. "What happened?"
"Somebody...something tried to kill me and Sam."
"What? Are you both all right ? Where are you, now?"
Somewhere on the background, she heard her ex-secretary's voice. "Who is it, Honey?" "Arlene." "What does she want?"
Arlene didn't hear John's answer; and frankly, she didn't care. "At home. Please, John. I really need your help."
"Stay there. I am coming to get you."
Click.
Arlene threw herself down on to the sofa. Jesus. What had Selah gotten herself into, and where the hell was she?
A glimmer caught Arlene's eyes. The living room lamp's yellow light shone on the necklace that Holly had given her. Arlene had left it on the table, and as if the stones had wanted to remind her about the necklace's existence, they shone brightly.
Arlene picked it up. It looked like something that had been a family treasure and passed down from one generation to the next. She hung the pendant around her neck. The necklace was the only good thing that happened in her birthday. She wanted to enjoy it whilst it lasted.
Bang, bang, bang!
Somebody knocked on the door loudly.
Arlene looked at her watch. It had been only ten minutes since she called John. It couldn't be him.
Bang, bang, bang!
"Mrs. Fowler, I know you're in there." Bang! "Open the door, please!" a rough man's voice made her jump. Bang!"Mrs. Fowler!"
Arlene looked around. She grabbed the first thing that caught her eye - the crystal vase John had given her on their second anniversary. Whoever was at the door, they didn't have good intentions. She didn't keep any guns in the house, and her kitchen knives were too far away.
The pounding on the door was getting louder and louder; and finally...krakk! The door was kicked wide open. Two men with wild eyes and dressed all in leather stood at the threshold.
"You should've opened it up, lady," one of them grinned, showing yellowish teeth.
"W-what do you want?" Arlene was shaken. "W-who are you?"
"Just give it to us and you won't be harmed," the grinning man sneered. "If you're nice to us, we'll be nice to you."
Arlene gripped the vase tighter. Give them what?
"Stop wasting our time, bitch, or you'll regret it!" the other man said. His jaws moved and made 'clack-clack' sound. "Give it to us, NOW!"
"I don't know w-what you m-mean...so how do I know if I have it..." Arlene moved backwards. "Please...you're asking the wrong p-person!"
"You asked for it, bitch," he growled and leaped toward her. As his hands reached out for her, Arlene swung the vase as hard as she could.
BAM!
The vase hit him hard on the head. He blinked and shook, but only for a brief moment before he already started for her again. He snarled. His eyes narrowed; and suddenly, his irises got smaller and changed color. Soon, they were no longer green, but red. His lips curled to show teeth that were growing longer and pointed. He held his arms open wide and they also began to lengthen and sprouted coarse dark fur.
Arlene stepped back. Her hands trembled. Her breathing was shallow. She looked at the grinning man. His eyes had turned red too. Where his hands weren't covered by shirt sleeves, they were covered with fur. Dear Lord...her heart beat crazily. What were they?
"Mrs. Fowler," the grinning man looked at her menacingly. "I suggest you give us what we want for your own sake, or I can't promise you, my friend here won't lose his patience."
Arlene moved to the kitchen direction. She had to get one of the knives. "Look gentlemen," she said. "I don't know what you want, but you're asking the wrong person."
The other man, who was now almost covered by dark fur, sniffed. "You asked for it," he said, raising his hand. Just one blow; however, to Arlene it felt like a thousand watt bolt of lightning had smacked her in the face. She trembled and … crash! She fell to the floor. The crystal vase rolled at her side. She clutched the carpet, trying to pull herself away, but something was holding her legs. She screamed, "Help!" She kicked out and screamed again, "Somebody, help!" all the while desperately trying to keep her hold on the carpet.
"Shut up, you bitch!"
"Help...aaaarrgh..." suddenly she was in the air. One of the creatures had a hold of her legs and spinned her like a shot put. Everything was turning faster and faster and then...crash! She hit the sofa and bounced on to the floor. Her head felt heavy. Her breathing was painful and hot. She tried to move her hand, but she couldn't. She heard footsteps coming. She forced her eyes to stay open, but the lids were getting so heavy...
Cold boots touched her chest; one of them kicked her so hard she flipped over on her back. The sound of tearing silk reached her ears as her blouse was torn apart. She turned her face away. Dear Lord, she thought. Help me...
"Witch!" one of them grunted.
"Now I have a real reason to teach her a lesson," the other said. "Move over. She's mine."
She heard a loud whosh, like something moving incredibly fast had come to a sudden halt.
"No, actually. She's mine," she heard a familiar voice. "Your touch is defiling, and you will die for it."
Soon, everything became even more surreal. She heard wood smashing; thrown against the wall, the sound of broken glass, loud growls and a hideous crackling sound. Then, she heard a howl, answered briefly by a second one. Then, for a moment everything was quiet till a deafening shriek of pain broke the silence. Rain...cold drops of rain fell on her body, her face...sticky cold rain that smelt like fishy water... a pair of piercing blue eyes looked down into hers. Slowly everything began to blur. Cold, she felt cold and numb.
"Drink, Arlene." She heard a voice. "Drink."
She was too weak to refuse, too cold to even realize what she was about to drink. She opened her mouth. A soft touch caressed her hair. "Yes, drink, Arlene."
Then, everything went black.
-4-
Sticky. Sticky and fishy. That was what Arlene felt when she opened her eyes. Something had coated her eyelashes.
The piercing blue eyes that had been the last thing she saw now became the first thing that she saw. Eric. He was kneeling beside her. Something red was dripping from his hair and face. She rubbed her eyes.
Slowly, the voices, the blows and the screams came back without mercy. Those men...those men who had attacked her...they had changed into something...she forced herself to get up and shrieked when she saw the condition of her living room. The furniture was turned upside down. The door was off its hinges. Red color splashed everywhere: on the floor, on the couch, on the table...even on the ceiling. She looked at her hands. "Jesus!" she screamed. They were dripping red as well...she sniffed her hand. "Is this...blood?"
Eric lifted his eyebrow. "Yes, it is." His voice was cold as if it was just something normal for him.
"Where are the men...?" she looked around in panic. She touched her face. She swore one of the men had hit her there. Hard. So hard that she had been thrown to the floor. Why wasn't she feeling it now? She looked at him. "Eric, what's going on? Who are those men?"
Eric sniffed. Those blue eyes blazed with anger. "You used me."
"What?" Arlene's jaws dropped. She forced herself to concentrate. Her confusion was now changing to anger. Her chest became heavy with it. "I don't know what you're talking about! Jesus, I wish somebody had the guts to tell me what's going on! Everybody is acting as if I knew something and they didn't even bother to ask me!" She moved away from him. "The last thing that I need right now is an accusation from a stranger that I used him. I fucked you, yes I FUCKED YOU. It was a fuck, plain and simple; it was not a kind of conspiracy plan to get you into something. I have no further plan or whatsoever to use you in bed or in business, you got that? I don't need this kind of shit, all right? I am a big girl; I can take care of myself. So get out of my house! Leave me alone!"
Eric stood up and walked backward. Not one word came out of his mouth. His eyes looked at her sharply. If looks could kill, she'd been dead by now because his stare was so cold and piercing she could almost feel it stabbing her chest.
"Yes, get the fuck out of my house!" She became angrier. Eric was leaving! No apology, not even a word! He acted as if what she had said hadn't mattered! She grabbed the first thing her hand fell on (it was the crystal vase) and threw it at him.
He continued walking backward and ducked her attack. The vase hit the wall and shattered into a million pieces on the floor. There goes my most precious memory from that lousy ex-husband of mine! She cursed herself.
Right at the door, Eric stopped. "Invite me in," he said. "You can't face them by yourself."
"What do you care?"
"I saved you. I care."
Arlene walked towards him and wanted to say the first word that came to her head, which wasn't at all polite, when she stepped on something. She ran into Eric's arms when she saw what's under her feet. It was a human hand! "Sweet Jesus, that...that was...that..."
"Invite me in," Eric held her tightly. "We can't stay outside like this. Your neighbor will be curious, and they will call the police. You don't want them to be here. Invite me in and let me clean you up. I'll tell you everything."
-5-
Reluctantly, Arlene had invited Eric back in. She wondered why he needed an invitation anyway! The door had been kicked down; he could've simply walked right in.
Eric carried her to the bathroom. "You don't want to see the blood and the body parts," that was the excuse. He let the warm water run and helped her remove her clothes, which were sticky with blood.
"Where's the necklace?" she asked when she realized she wasn't wearing it.
"I'd removed it," he said.
"Can you give it back to me please, I don't want to be separated from it."
"Maybe later. It's safe, don't worry."
The water turned pink when she stepped in. As Eric's hand ran up and down her body, washing her clean, it became a darker pink then almost red.
The warm, soapy water and Eric's strong but gentle strokes lulled Arlene out of the reality of the attack and transported her into a faery tale world, where a prince had saved a peasant girl from a danger; where they automatically fell in love and lived happily ever after. Arlene began to wish Eric's ministrations would become more...intimate, so that she could simply forget everything, even only for a while.
"Dear Lord!" she sighed as she brought herself back to the here-and-now. Eric's touch was still gentle but not that tempting anymore. "What is happening to me?"
"You were attacked by werewolves," said Eric.
He had to be joking! She turned to face him and saw that he hadn't. "Did you just say 'werewolves'?"
"Yes."
"Those two men are...were werewolves...like real werewolves?"
"Yes. They're real."
She pulled away from Eric, but the bath tub was too small; she couldn't move far. The rusty colored water splashed out and drew traces down the outside of the tub. "You can't be serious!"
"I am," his voice sounded stern. "Do you smell their blood?"
"Yes, it's fishy."
"Not only that, it's thicker than human blood." Eric poured some water over her head. "Human blood smells and tastes sweet and coppery."
"You sound as if you know a lot about blood. What are you? Vampire or something?" She didn't know whether she should laugh or be frightened. The words she said sounded absurd to her even as she spoke them.
'Click'. Two fangs popped up out of nowhere.
"Dear Lord!" Arlene screamed and jumped out of the bath tub. Eric grabbed her hand. "Let me go! Let me go! Hel...,"
Eric put his hand over her mouth, dragged her to the wall and roughly pushed her against it.
"I won't tell...please...I swear I won't tell anybody...," begged Arlene. "Please, Eric..."
His cold hand ran on her neck, making her skin crawl. "I have been wanting to bite this pretty neck since we made love. Last night I took only a very small amount of blood from the biting. It was not enough," his voice was deep and growling. "I want more."
"Please, Eric...I'll do anything; just let me go...," her knees were weak from fear.
"You will indeed do anything for me," he smirked. "But I won't let you go."
A warm tear wet her cheek as it rolled down. "I'll rather kill myself than to be your slave. Being someone's slave once was more than enough for me."
"A slave...who made you a slave?" his smirk was gone. Now she could hear careful alertness in his voice.
"Don't you know that being married is almost like being a slave?" she said. Selah's exact words, when she told her John had asked her to marry him, came out of her mouth.
He touched her face with the back of his hand. "You're trying to be funny; I could kill you, and you're trying to be funny. Is it any wonder that I choose you?" Then, he kissed her. Again, as last night, his kisses were rough and passionate. The difference was, this time, he didn't hide his fangs. Arlene could feel them brush against the soft flesh of her lips. As last night, she was aroused. Before long, she found herself returning his kisses and wrapping her legs around his hips and felt his cold hands cupping her bare rump. Like two twisted roots, their tongues intertwined each other, greedily probing and impatiently sucking.
"Arlene! Are you in there?" A familiar voice broke them apart. "Oh my god!"
Eric put her down. Within a blink of an eye, he was gone. Then, Arlene heard somebody screaming from the living room.
"Aaaaaaaaaargh!"
John. Arlene tried to catch her breath. John was here. She snatched up a towel, wrapped it around herself and after Eric.
On the wall beside the door was John. Eric had him by the neck, pinned against the wall as if he were nailed to it, and as if he weighed nothing. Eric's fangs were out completely, and his eyes blazed with anger.
-6-
The Haugr
Arlene didn't feel comfortable in having both Eric and John in the bedroom at the same time, but she didn't have any other choice. The bedroom was the only place, which didn't get wrecked during the fight or covered in werewolf body parts and viscera.
She put on a t-shirt and a jeans, and then she asked them in.
John rubbed his neck and stood back from Eric, making sure he was well beyond Eric's reach. He looked at the bed, which was still messy, and shot Arlene a narrow look.
Arlene knew John was about to say something nasty. She was not going to give him that satisfaction. They are divorced now; she can do whatever she damn pleased! She turned her face away and sat on the rumpled bedding.
Eric stood at the door, talking on the phone in a foreign language.
"Where did you get this guy?" John hissed. "Look, I know that you're angry with me, and you want to get back to me by bedding a younger guy, but Jesus, Arlene! I've never thought you would take up with a butcher!"
"Oh, please! I am not angry with you, and he's not a butcher!"
"Not a butcher? What do you call that?" he pointed at the living room. "He was going to kill me!"
John was right. If she hadn't come in time and told Eric who John was, he might have ended up as dead as the other two.
"I will, if you don't shut up," said Eric without turning around.
"You see what I mean?"
"Psst!" Arlene shot him a sharp look. Eric was serious. She could tell from his tone.
Eric turned around; John stepped back further. "My assistants will come to clean up your place," he said. "You'd better come with me."
"Wait a minute, pal..." John's sentence was cut off as Eric suddenly seemed to blink into place before him. His face was looming scant inches away. Arlene covered her mouth to prevent herself from shrieking.
"Yes, John?" Eric's voice was low but intimidating.
"W-where are you taking her?"
"My place."
"W-where?"
"You don't want to know."
"B-but...," again, his sentence abruptly ended as their eyes met. "I...I've got to know. She's my wife."
"Your ex-wife," snapped Arlene.
"Oh, you know what I mean!" said John. "You don't want to go with... him!"
"As a matter of fact," Arlene raised her chin, "I do." She might not have wanted to go off with Eric before John's reaction, but now it seemed like a damn fine idea. He was acting as if they were still married, and she couldn't stand it!
Eric smirked. "Who else knew you were here, Arlene?"
"Nobody. I only called him," she pointed at John.
"I didn't tell anybody, I swear...," suddenly he hit his cheek. "Oh, my god!"
"What?" asked Arlene. "Don't tell me you told that bitch!"
"She was there...and she heard the conversation...you...no! It can't be...!"
"Whom did you tell?" asked Eric. The calmness in his voice somehow sacred Arlene. Something in that utter lack of emotion made the hair on the back of her neck stand on end.
"My secretary...I mean...my girlfriend, Debbie Pelt."
"Debbie Pelt from the Pelt and Leeds family?" asked Eric.
"Yeah...how did you know?"
"You told her about this, without thinking you might have put Arlene in danger?"
"Listen, young man," John emphasized the word young man as if by saying it, he stood to gain some extra power over him. But when he saw Eric straighten his shoulders and draw his body to its full height, his face turned pale. There were some good five inches differences between them; it made John look small. Small and frightened. "Debbie is my girlfriend," John continued. His voice was not as certain as before. "So when she asked me where I was going, I told her I was going to your place to help you get out of town."
"Idiot! You fucking idiot!" Arlene yelled at him.
"Look, Honey..."
"Honey me one more time, I swear I'll ask Eric to kill you!"
Eric lifted his eyebrow and gave John a look that drained the last bit of color from his face.
"Honestly, Arlene, I didn't know. You know I never meant to hurt you. Please, believe me."
"They're here," Eric turned around.
"Who?"
"My assistants."
By assistants, did he mean vampires?
As if John had known what she thought, he said, "There are more like him?" He said the word 'him' softly, almost unheard, as if he was afraid the word itself could harm him somehow.
"You don't want to know," said Eric, and Arlene agreed. She didn't want to know, either.
Eric's assistants were a woman and two men. The woman dressed up in all-leather suits; a huge cross pendant was dangling on her neck. Bright red lipstick added a splash of color to her face. She was as pale as Eric, and her attitude was just as cold. Behind her were two men. The man on her right was an Asian. His bare pallid arms showed tattoos down their length. The word 'Yakuza' was the first thing that came to Arlene's mind, but she pressed her lips together tightly. On her left was an American, stood almost entirely covered in a white plastic bio-hazard overall. The only thing that saved him from looking like a giant condom was his bright brown eyes. They were now looking at Arlene with a sharp look of an eagle.
"I want this done by morning," said Eric. "You're in charge, Bobby. Take as many men as you need. Clean this building up."
"Yes, Sir," said the man in the bio-hazard suit.
"Find Hervaux. Tonight."
"Yes, Sir," Bobby nodded and moved a few steps away and flipped open a phone. "Bellefleur, it's me..."
"Where are you going, Eric?" asked the woman.
Eric mentioned a place that sounded like 'how-ger' to Arlene.
"You've got to be kidding me," said the woman, putting her hands on her hips. "You and the humans?"
"Only the woman."
"What do you mean 'only the woman'?" asked John.
"What do you want me to do with this idiot?" asked the woman again.
Walking away, Eric said, "Do what you want."
Arlene followed him.
"What do you mean? Eric...hey...Mr..for god sake, what is his name again?"John sputtered.
"He didn't tell you?" the woman snorted. "Well then, it's your lucky day, Sweetheart..."
"Arlene, where are you going?"
"Where are you taking me?" Arlene walked fast beside Eric.
"You'll see." Eric took her hips.
Arlene felt she herself moving faster and faster, almost like she wasn't touching ground. She looked down, and she...wasn't, she was...floating. "You...we...we're flying!" she screamed. The ground and her vision blurred, and then she lost track of everything but the wind rushing past and the feeling of flight.
It was incredible!
-7-
The Haugr, as Eric spelled it, was a hole deep in the ground in the middle of something which looked like an abandoned lot. Arlene could only see rubble mounded in front of her, which seemed to have a gate in midst of the debris. On either side of the gate were neon lights, which illuminated a sign reading;…"
Danger
This location is deemed unsafe for Human Occupancy
There were additional sentences written in smaller letters, which Arlene couldn't read.
An old nuclear bunker was the first thing that came to Arlene's mind when she saw Eric push a round cement door.
Eric turned on the light. "This is my home," he said, as they stepped down the ladder. "I sleep here during the day."
"It looks like a bunker to me."
"It isa mound."
"A mound...like a burial mound?"
"Yes."
"Are we inside a tomb?" instinctively, Arlene grabbed Eric's arm.
"Yes," Eric tapped her hand, as if he wanted to tell her everything was okay. "In my language, it is called haugr."
"Your language...which is...?"
"Old Norse. I am a Viking."
Arlene would've burst into laughter, if she hadn't covered her mouth in time. A Viking...in leather jacket and blue jeans. Well, you don't see that everyday.
"I am. I am more than 1000 years old."
Arlene stopped walking. "You aren't serious."
"I am a vampire. Vampires live forever. One thousand years old isn't that exceptional."
Surely, he doesn't believe that, thought Arlene. He doesn't look his age. Yeah, right. As if she saw hordes of thousand year old men running around on daily basis.
"There are things that you don't know, Arlene Fowler. Open your mind. You can learn a lot from me if you do."
A gray door was at the end of the ladder. Eric entered a code on the alarm system's keypad, and the door opened with a soft sound.
Arlene's jaws dropped as the lights came up and showed her the room beyond the door. It was a huge, bright room. It looked damn cozy for a hole in the ground, and it had a big bed at the corner, a living room set, a closet, a small table with a record player on it, and another door, which seemed to lead to the bathroom. The only item that made it different from any room she had ever seen was a brown wooden coffin with its lid standing open. The interior was covered with dark red velvet.
She was at the lair of a vampire. She couldn't help but wonder: how many other women had Eric brought here, and how many of them survived to see the next day?
Eric took off his jacket and threw it on the floor. "You wait here," he said. He didn't want to tell her that he was afraid somebody might have broken in, did he? Who's on the right mind would have broken into the lair of a vampire anyway?
Eric walked across the room...no; he leaped across the room, opened the door and disappeared behind it. When he opened the door, he wasn't wearing his t-shirt anymore. His hair was dripping wet. "There was...blood in my hair," he said.
And it bothered him. Jesus! Tearing apart werewolves and spreading their blood and body parts all over the place was okay for him, as long as the blood didn't ruin his hair!
He reached out for her. Arlene wanted to get away, but it was too late. Before she knew it, she was already on the bed with Eric's weigh holding her down as he pushed her t-shirt up over her breasts.
I have to buy some time, she thought. I have to find a way to get out of here alive. Who knows what this vainly vampire is capable of!
Suddenly, Eric rolled over. "You're afraid of me."
"No, I am not."
Eric sniffed. His fangs were out. "You should be. Every vampire sees humankind as no more than a source of food."
"You are not an average Joe kind of vampire," Arlene turned on her side. She realized Eric could sense her feeling. She was afraid of him, but she may not show it. She had to be able to convince him that she truly enjoyed his company. "You chose me, remember?" she forced herself to smile. "I don't want to think that I was chosen by an ordinary Joe vampire."
He touched her face, grabbed her neck and kissed her. Rough. When he lifted his mouth from hers, Arlene saw blood at the corner. Her blood. Arlene touched her lips. They were swollen from the bite. Strangely, they didn't seem to hurt at all.
"My blood is working," he said. "I can feel your emotion, the reaction of your body and even your thoughts; and you don't feel pain as keenly anymore."
Arlene bit her lower lips to prevent it from shaking. Her skin crawled. His blood...he had given her his blood..and it made him able to sense her feelings...as if she hadn't had enough problems already! "Does it last forever?" she wanted to know.
"No. It will wear off gradually."
"Why did you feed me your blood?"
"The werewolves had almost killed you by the time I arrived. They broke your skull, and one of them was about to twist your neck. I didn't have any other choice. Had I not given you my blood, you would have been dead by now."
Why did he sound as if he regretted it?
"The blood of every vampire is precious; it shouldn't be given easily." he said. "I normally don't do this."
"Why did you?"
"I have reasons to keep you alive. You're a witch."
"Why do people keep saying that?" Arlene sat. "I am not a witch!"
"You wear the pendant of the triple moon, the necklace of the high priestess. You are a witch," he touched her hair. "My witch."
"Dear Lord!" Arlene covered her mouth. "The necklace doesn't belong to me...well, it is, but it doesn't exactly...oh, how to say it? Somebody gave it as a present."
"Arlene, look at me." Eric's voice sounded low and pressed. When she looked into his blue eyes, he said, "Come here and kiss me."
Arlene wanted to say no; however, she pressed herself into him and gave him a light kiss.
"Again." Laying back on the bed, he said, "Do it longer and use your tongue this time."
It didn't matter how much she wanted to push him away or to refuse his order, she did exactly the opposite. As if her body had a will of her own and didn't want to follow the order that came from her brain. She straddled his stomach, pinned his hands down to the bed, pried open his lips with her tongue and kissed him deeply. She even nipped a little!
Eric's face was pink when she let him go. His fangs were out, and a smirk was at the corner of his mouth."You aren't a witch."
"I told you I am not. Just now...why did I kiss you...?"
"I glamoured you to do it. You would do as I told without being able to refuse...,"
Plaack! Her hand smacked him across the face before she could stop herself. Eric didn't move an inch. "Son of a bitch!" she swung herself off his body and off the bed. "I told you, if you make me a slave, I'll kill myself!"
Suddenly, Eric was already in front of her, hovering over her with his fangs aimed at her neck.
"You don't scare me!" she screamed in frustration. "I am leaving!"
"You like kissing me." He touched his lip and smirked. "You bit me, even when I hadn't told you so. Admit it."
"Fuck you!"
"You already did. More than once."
Arlene was about to move away from him, but he grabbed her hips and bumped her body into his. Hard. Those powerful hands prevented her from moving. The more she tried, the tighter his grip became. She cursed herself. Even in her anger, she couldn't deny that she liked having that rigid firmness pressed against her. As a matter of fact, she kinda enjoyed it. The memory of last night flashed in front of her eyes; made her heart race and create a familiar warm feeling down below.
But Eric smirked and let her go. "You can't leave, even if I let you walk away. We are far from everywhere. First, you have to cross an old cemetery. Then, you have to walk miles away to reach the main road, and even then, there's not much traffic. You'd be lucky to find a ride before nightfall. You'd be without food and water, wandering in the alone in dark. Werewolves are not the only ones that live in the woods that line that road..."
"Okay, okay, I get it!" Arlene said. "I knew I shouldn't have gotten involved with you!" she crossed to the coach and sat down. "I should've followed my instincts, I should've kicked you out of my house when I had a chance. I didn't even know why I took you home at the first place." she sighed. "You didn't glamour me, did you?"
Eric looked offended. "I do not need to glamour women to make them to have sex with me."
"You glamoured me to kiss you some minutes ago!"
"That was different," Eric frowned, as if he was trying to convince himself as well.
Arlene snorted. "I don't see how! You made me kiss you, even though I didn't want to. How do I know that I wasn't glamoured last night?"
"Because you'd feel the difference," he hissed the word feel so sharp Arlene could almost feel it cut her face. His eyes were narrow. Clearly, he was angry. Her accusation seemed to offend his pride. "Last night, you wanted me. There was no mistake about it. Many women have buried their nails in my back, and you belong with one of those, whose marks last long enough that made me want to taste them again. The lines you made last night might have faded away, but I can still feel your passion. I am even sure; if I work on you right now, we will have sex as much as you've been wanting it since some minutes ago!"
Arlene felt her face hot.
"When you kissed me some minutes ago, you tried to refuse me," Eric continued. "You felt it and wanted to fight it, but you couldn't.
"What I did to you wasn't a good thing, I admit; however, I had to know whether you're a witch or not. I want to know whom I am going to deal with."
"Did you have to glamour me?""
"Yes, I did. Witches are not easy to be glamoured. They are strong; some of them are even so strong that only very few and very old vampires are able to do it. However, as we now see; you aren't a witch."
"Couldn't you just ask?"
Eric smirked. "And miss the fun?"
Arlene swore she would explode. She jumped up again and moved back across the room to sit on the edge of the bed. If she ever got her hands on Selah's throat, she swore she would squeeze the life out of her!
Eric walked towards her and stood in front of her. He touched her hair softly. "You have the glorious red hair of my people. I wanted to ignore you last night, but the color of your hair reminded me of the old days. After you've lived as long as I have, you crave any small things that takes you back to the life you once had, when everything was still...normal."
His soft voice calmed her down a little. "Why were you at the hotel, Eric? Were you hunting?"
"No, I wasn't." He knelt down in front of her. "What I am about to tell you could cost you your life, and I'll be honest with you; the life you have known till now is going to change one way or the other. If you feel you aren't able to keep it to yourself, I'll be forced to wipe your memory."
"My life is changed already," Arlene looked straight into those piercing blue eyes. "I was attacked by werewolves, and I am talking to a vampire. It's either a nightmare or I've been living with a tunnel vision and taking the world for granted. I was a blind fool who believed I had a perfect marriage till it was too late. I don't want to live like that anymore."
Eric's lips moved, forming a line that Arlene wanted to believe was a smile. He usually smirked or snorted derisively. A smile would be a lovely change. But the possible smile disappeared as he got up and sat beside her. "I was meeting a woman, who had information about something that many vampires have been looking for."
"What is it?"
"A product from Japan, an artificial blood that's said to perfectly replicates human blood. It is said to look like blood and taste like blood as well."
"There are already artificial blood products in the market. What is so special about this one?"
"Do you know how the artificial blood works?"
Arlene shook her head. One of her clients was a small pharmacy company, but she never had the idea to ask them any chemical problems or definitions.
Eric took her hand. "Artificial blood," his fingers started trailing on her skin, "has a function to transport oxygen and carbon dioxide only. It will temporarily replace the function of the real blood till the body is capable," his fingers were now on her upper arm, he lifted the t-shirt sleeves, kissed that part of arms and continued trailing, "of producing more red blood cells. However, it doesn't contain minerals, nutrients and other things that the human body needs. That is why the current artificial blood is called an oxygen carrier. Because that is what it is; it's nothing more than an oxygen carrier."
Their eyes met. Those were the bluest eyes Arlene had ever seen. Twinkling and sparkling like the sea water on early morning. Somehow, the conversation about blood or its replication brought up something inside Eric; something that Arlene hadn't seen before. A passion, a spirit of life.
"The new product that I've heard...," his face was getting nearer, whilst his fingers now were on her shoulder. A soft touched on her neck sent shiver down to her back. "...was something better. It will be able to replace the blood completely. It contains glucose, mineral ions, food...everything that blood has. They say, it also replicates real blood's most vital functions."
"Which are?"
He pushed her softly to the bed and threw himself beside her. His cold lips were wet when they touched her neck. "Stopping the body from bleeding out and creating immune defense."
Arlene touched his face. "You don't have to drink from humans anymore if the product is on the market."
He didn't react to her sentence. Instead, he said, "The company that produces it will be rich and worshiped by the vampires." His hands were now down to her hips. Arlene sighed as he removed her t-shirt. "Or, they will be hunted by the vampires."
"Why do you have to drink human blood?" Arlene forced herself to concentrate, which was damn hard to do; now that Eric started kissing her body. His kisses were no different from the ones he had given last night. They were passionate and rough. Arlene was sure that she would have new bruises by tomorrow. "Can't you drink animal blood? What is so special about human blood anyway?"
"Do you know anything about blood components?" Eric sounded annoyed. His hands, which were busy removing her bra, stopped moving.
"Well...yes, red cell, white cell...that's about it."
"I can give you some books to read. Now, shut up!" He finished his sentences with a bite on her shoulder blade. Arlene gasped. The bite wasn't as painful as last night, but it was the same arousing. When Eric managed to remove her bra completely, and his hands were softly crawling to find her breasts, Arlene sighed. She felt her body screaming for more, and she was about to answer Eric's touch when her eyes caught the glimpse of the brown wooden coffin.
I have to stop this, she thought. I may not be carried away!
"Which side are you on?" again, she forced herself to concentrate.
Eric didn't reply. The sound of his kisses on her back and his strong squeeze on her breasts were clear enough for Arlene. His mind was not on the subject anymore, or he didn't want to tell her.
Arlene pulled herself away and sat. "Which side are you on, Eric?" she repeated.
"I can't say yet. I have to know the whole story before I make any decision."
Arlene retrieved her t-shirt and pulled it back on. She got down from the bed and walked to the door. "Is this place safe for me?" she tried to change the subject. The conversation about blood and Eric's reaction, which was ambiguous, made her somehow uncomfortable. It was like she had been to a strange and unfamiliar territory, and it scared her. "I mean, does it have enough oxygen?"
Eric lay on his side. He rested his chin on his hand and looked at her in disbelief. "Yes, without air circulation, the space would have an unpleasant odor, but I don't have any food or drinking water."
Food would be the last thing Arlene worried about."How can you tell the time? You don't have any clock here."
"My body will know. I won't be able to move when the sun comes out."
"That means, I can do whatever I want when you are sleeping."
"Yes."
"You're not afraid?"
"Should I be?" A strange blaze was in those blue eyes. It was short, but it was sharp enough to make her blood run cold.
Arlene sighed. "No."
They fell silent.
"How did you know about Debbie Pelt?" asked Arlene after a while.
"We've met on some several occasions."
"And the Leeds...who are they?"
"Pelt's cousins and associates."
Quiet again.
"The woman you were about to meet...who is she?" again, Arlene was the one, who broke the silence.
"I don't know. I was told to be at the La Fleur de Lys hotel around eight o'clock. I was also told to wear the ring and the green suits. I was only to wait, she would come to me. At first, I thought you were her, until you told me that you thought I was somebody else."
"Told by whom?"
No answer.
Whoever had sent him have been somebody important; somebody whom Eric respected. "But you didn't leave." Arlene decided to not to pursue the answer. Eric didn't look like somebody who liked being preyed.
Eric stepped off the bed and came to her. "You were hot and ready; my kind of woman."
Arlene felt her face hot. "And you forgot your appointment."
"I didn't. We had sat at the hotel lounge for more than an hour, remember?"
Arlene nodded.
"I watched every female guest who entered the hotel. None of them looked at me with any hint of recognition."
"How would you know...if they knew who you were?"
He lifted his eyebrow, and Arlene felt stupid. With his looks, it must be very easy for him to get any attention or make any woman or man notice him! After so long, he'd be easily able to differentiate between causal and recognizing stares.
"After I had left your place," he said, "I returned to the hotel to check the videos from the security camera, and I didn't find anything."
"How the hell were you able to obtain the vid...you glamoured the security personnel."
"I tend to believe you were the one I was about to meet."
"What? Look, Eric. I told you the truth. I was supposed to meet a man named Viktor, who worked for an escort service. It was supposed to be a fun night for me, and despite the fact that you were not Viktor, it was a fun night! Besides, I didn't know anything about this new blood replacement product until now."
"The words on the street is the maker of this new product has an American lawyer."
"Do you know how many lawyers are there in America? Really, Eric, you don't want to know. Besides, I don't have a Japanese client!"
"They have a company here; a small one that nobody will notice because they don't want to attract the attention of the wrong people."
"There are many small pharmacy companies in the country," Arlene tried to calm herself down. She would've known if her client had such an important innovation. She would've known. "We are not the only one..."
"I know one lawyer who has a direct connection with werewolves, witches and shape-shifters," Eric was getting closer, "and has a small pharmacy company as a client."
Arlene looked at him. Her jaw dropped as she realized what he meant. "Me?"
"No. It's your friend, Selah Pumphreys."
Arlene pondered over those words. Selah. It was always Selah. The beautiful, wild Selah. As long as she had known her, which had been since childhood, Selah had always been into some kinds of trouble. She had always managed to get out of it before it was too late. However, Arlene felt, this time the trouble was far too deep for her, for both of them, to get out of.
"Are you sure, Eric? I know Selah has gotten into a lot of messes...but...but...this...," she couldn't find the words to describe what Selah had dragged her into.
Eric touched her hair and softly kissed her forehead. "It will be morning soon. I'll tell you more when I wake up." he said. "Come, lay down with me." Then, he smiled. The coldness on his face broke like the snow in the early spring being pushed by small buds of lilies and somehow it made him look sympathetic. "It will be the first time in centuries that I have a human in my bed."
Strangely, Arlene didn't feel flattered because of it. She felt even worse when she saw him climbing into the coffin.
Eric kissed her softly as she laid in his arms. "Sleep tight, my human."
-8-
Bobby Burnham
Arlene woke up with a heavy head. She'd thought, she wouldn't be able to sleep. Laying beside her was a predator, god knows what he might do! It was only normal if she was afraid to close her eyes! But that's not what had happened. On the contrary, she had fallen asleep as soon as she laid down her head, and when she opened her eyes, she found herself cuddling him!
She got down from the coffin and sat on the sofa.
Selah had planned the meeting all along. She or somebody she knew had called Eric to come to the hotel, and Selah herself had tricked her into it. Arlene didn't know what kind of information Selah had on Eric, but it looked like she had managed to say the right things to him, or to give him the right thing, namely her.
Arlene looked around the room. Soon, the world that she had known would change. Soon, vampires and many other creatures, which had only been stories told in books, songs and movies, would be among mankind. What would she do when the time came? Would she accept them without question, or would she be among those who were against them?
In that coffin laid a vampire, sleeping and unable to move. She had been with him only for a day and two nights, but her world was already turned upside down. She had had rough and heated sex, been chased down from her own office, attacked by werewolves and god knows what happened to her ex-husband!
Obviously, they'd be spending some more time together, and she dreaded imagining what could happen to her.
Arlene walked to him and watched him sleeping. A Viking, he said. A one-thousand-year old Viking. He must have seen and done a lot in his unnatural life, and yet he couldn't make up his mind whether he wanted to continue living in a hole or openly, side by side with humans.
His blond hair spread around on the dark red velvet material that covered the interior of the coffin. Heh! Even in his sleep, he was alert. His hands were crossed over his chest; the right hand was on the top and formed a ball...no, it looked like it was holding something. A sword, maybe?
Her world was changed, indeed. For two years she had ignored what happened out there. Selah had tried to fix her up, introducing her to many men, but nobody had been interesting enough for her; or maybe it had been her own situation that made her feel uncomfortable with dating. She had been married to John for ten years. For ten years, she had slept with the same man, night after night. She didn't know how to start again.
Accepting Selah's gift was a way to learn the dating system again. She thought, she would have fun and not need to think what to do, since she would be spending time with a professional; a man who was paid to satisfy a woman. And she did. She had a good time and she was satisfied, both out and in bed.
Arlene sighed. Except for one thing, Eric isn't a gigolo; he isn't even human.
Well, perhaps part of him, still. He had thrown his clothes on the floor; only God knows what other slobby habits he had. She picked up the leather jacket. Like many other stylish men, his jacket was from a well-known designer. She sniffed the jacket. His cologne too. It smelt good; it was likely expensive.
She felt something hard in the jacket's pocket touch her cheek. After pushing aside the question whether she should check it or not, she put her hand inside the pocket and took out the contents: an iPhone and her necklace. She had them in her hand and let the jacket fall to the floor.
Arlene looked at the iPhone. It looked like Eric was a fashion victim through and through. Not only he owned designer clothes, he also owned the latest fashion item in the market, like this iPhone. Selah had the same one. She told Arlene the latest iPhone is a must have telephone in the market. It can be used for sending messages, taking pictures, sending e-mail even surfing in the web. 'Can it also be used for making phone calls?' Arlene remembered teasing her.
Arlene sighed. It seemed, fashion victims weren't always exclusively human. She put the iPhone in her trousers pocket and turned to the coffin. The necklace was made from silver. People said silver could harm vampires. If she put the silver around Eric's neck and strangled him with it, he would die. And then, she could leave this hole. John would be able to help her find a way to leave the town or the country and be free of this insane vampire business!
Just one pull, and it would be the end of Eric Northman.
She walked toward the coffin. Yes, just one pull, and she would be free.
Her hands were trembling as she stood beside the coffin and leaned over the side. Eric slept peacefully. His face showed no wrinkles or signs of aging. His lips were pink and the long lashes around his eyes made him look like a young man who didn't have much life experience yet.
Arlene sighed. Those pink lips had left traces all over her body; traces that made her body tingle just by remembering how he had made them. And the hands that were crossed on his chest had touched her, aroused her and awoken the old feelings in her.
She looked at the necklace one more time. Still, he's a vampire. She didn't know what or how he would react when he woke up hungry. She couldn't take the risk.
She held the chain with both hands and was about to put it around Eric's neck when the iPhone made a noise. She took it out and looked at the screen. The e-mail icon had a red "1" beside it. Under the icon something was written in a language she didn't understand.
She closed her eyes. Should she continue with her plan or open the e-mail? She looked at Eric. Heh, Eric is dead already, he can wait to be dead again. The e-mail might contain something important, something that would need Eric's presence.
She touched the mailbox icon, which opened his inbox. A new email had arrived..
They got the package. A SS brought JH in. He's wounded.
Bobby Burnham.
They got the package...what package? The blood drinks? Selah? What was a SS? JH...JH...Jackson Hervaux? He's wounded?
"You should thank Bobby for this, Eric," she murmured and put the necklace around her neck and walked away from the coffin. She knew she had blown her chance to kill Eric. She could only hope she wouldn't regret it later.
-9-
"Are you hungry?" was the first thing Eric said when he woke up. He jumped out of the coffin and walked to the bathroom.
"No. I have no appetite."
"You should eat," he said. "You will need a lot of food when you stay with me and a lot of vitamins too, especially vitamin B12."
Arlene bit her lips. It is said Vitamin B12 is good for red blood cell production. He wanted her to be his private personal blood bank.
Eric turned around, smirking. "It's just an idea, Arlene. You will get something for return, naturally."
"Really? What is it? Protection?"
"That and sex, a lot of sex."
Great, she wasn't only becoming his private personal blood bank, but also his private personal sperm bank.
"Have a bath with me, Arlene! And take that goddamn necklace off!"
Arlene walked to the bathroom. She had to talk to him about the message from Bobby Burnham. When she saw Eric standing naked beside the bath tub, she forced herself not to gasp. Dear Lord, if Michaelangelo lived today, he would make another David based on Eric's figure! Every drop of light that fell on his body emphasized the already good figure, made it even perfect and somehow...inhuman.
She forced herself to stay unimpressed as strong as she could until he turned around and faced her. It really should be illegal for a man to run around waving a huge loaded gun like that.
"You're afraid of the necklace," she said, trying to be as cool as she could.
Eric came to her and stood so closely that if Arlene moved at all, she would be able to touch his cock. "No, but you would only put yourself in danger. The werewolves, they are afraid of the necklace. They hate and love the moon because their lives are influenced by it. That triple moon pendant carries a strong power over them. By wearing it, you declare war on them."
Arlene swallowed her spit. "And you vampires hate and love the silver?"
He snorted. His fangs were out. "I don't have any feelings for or against things. But yes, I can be harmed with silver. Make sure that you really want to harm me if you put that silver necklace on me. You might not like my reaction."
"Bobby Burnham sent you an e-mail," she said, changing the subject. She took out the iPhone and gave it to Eric. "Something about a package, an SS and JH."
Eric took the iPhone and touched its screen. Arlene didn't know what he was doing because he did it at a speed that couldn't be followed by naked eyes. His ass moved teasingly when he walked away from her. He had small buns, but Arlene knew how smooth and at the same time hard they were. "They don't teach manners anymore these days? I could kill you for your bad manner." He put the iPhone on the top of a small cabinet beside the bathroom sinks.
"Don't threaten me if you don't mean to carry it out, Eric."
In the blink of an eye, Eric was already in front of her again. His mouth was wide open; his fangs hovered inches above her jugular. The silver necklace seemed not to bother him at all. He sniffed, straightened his body and smiled. "And you Arlene Fowler, never ever threaten me again."
Arlene's blood ran cold. That smile and the lights in his eyes scared the hell out of her. He looked like one of those psychopathic people that some prosecutors had sent away to jails. She raised her head and prayed that Eric didn't notice her fear. "Good, now we know each other's boundaries."
Eric touched her face. "Still want to accompany me into the bath?"
"Who said I wanted to?"
However, she ended up in the bath tub without the necklace. She even didn't want to think about her reservations once Eric started kissing her and biting her here and there. When he pulled her close and pulled back the hair that covered her neck, she closed her eyes. In any second, those fangs would be sunk in her flesh and...
The iPhone rang. Then, a voice mail.
"It's me, Sir, Burnham. We have a situation here, Sir. Pam is trying to handle it, but I am afraid, she won't be able to keep it much longer. Chow is down, repeat, Chow is down, Sir! The werewolves have penetrated the perimeter and I am not sure if I can protect the package any longer. Pam said she saw some familiar faces from Mississippi...what?"
Loud noises filled in the background.
"I think you'd better come in, Sir."
The iPhone went dead.
Eric jumped out of the bath tub. "It has begun earlier than I thought," he said. He sounded concerned.
"What?" Arlene climbed out.
"The conflict of interests," suddenly Eric sounded like one of the lawyers in her previous office. "The minute you are out of the Haugr, you will enter a new world, Arlene. The world you knew doesn't exist anymore. You will have to make a choice, to accept our existence and rights to live among you, human; or to be against it. I hope you will make a wise decision when the time comes. In the meantime, it has been a pleasure knowing you, Mrs. Fowler."
'Click', Eric's fangs were out. His eyes looked at her wildly. Arlene stepped back, this didn't seem like another empty threat. He was actually snarling at her.
Arlene screamed on the top of her lungs as Eric leaped and grabbed her. Her scream was echoed by the bathroom walls, before silence finally fell.
