Author notes:

Hi there. This story already exists on another site, but I decided to post it here for posterity and because editing for strong language isn't required here. It is a multi-parter told from Bill's point of view, but other characters play a pivotal part in the story, including Eric. I already have seven chapters written so I will be updating fairly frequently, but it is currently a work in progress.

Your reviews are greatly appreciated. I am well aware of what is popular on this site and in this fan-verse, but Bill is my man and this story is about him before moving back to Bon Temps and getting tangled up with Sookie, with some vampire politics thrown in amidst the lemons.

You will note material and characters from the books in this fiction, but the context is mainly Alan Ball's vision. I'll shut up now. Thanks for reading.

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THE HUNTER

Part One

I once told the woman who made me what I am that she was loneliest creature I had ever known, but tonight I was wondering whether I had been mistaken. The loneliest creature on Earth was myself, standing in a corner of this crowded establishment, surrounded by a swirl of happy, intoxicated humanity; loud and raucous, completely ignorant of the fact that a dangerous hunter lurked in their midst. I did not have to be here; making myself hungry and miserable from watching these humans drink and dance and rub up against each other like the animals in heat that they were. I was, after all, in the city that was most friendly to my kind. There was a secret palace not far from here where I could be with my own, and willing donors available to slake my thirst. But I preferred the clueless humans for company, though they were more of a torment than an amusement.

I longed for the day I could walk among them as an accepted eccentricity, and the day was coming soon; the channels of communication between different states and different countries had hummed with nothing else for weeks, since the Japanese had invented a workable substitute to taking from humans. When that day came, I could find a place and settle down after decades of wandering, I could find people who would talk to me and know me and not fear me overmuch, and then my loneliness might be over. But tonight I had no option. I had to stay in the shadows with my untouched glass of red wine, I had to seek out someone to feed from and then erase all traces of myself from their mind, so they awoke with only a feeling of weakness explained by alcohol and marks on their body blamed on insect bites.

I never killed anymore, those days were long past. Seduction, trickery and the power of my mind ensured that I did little harm and did not have to despise myself. Perhaps if I was patient this night I could find someone to satisfy my other craving, the one that was always brought on by bloodlust. A woman, warm and soft and responsive; though I hated to make love to someone under my glamour, knowing they were only experiencing pleasure from my touch because I had forced them to comply. It was a rare thing to find a human who did not shrink from me in bed, knowing they were with a vampire.

I had scanned every female in the club over the last hour and only found one that might satisfy my needs, either with full knowledge or under my spell. She was alone like myself, her two companions having paired off with men from a persistent crowd of admirers that had surrounded the trio at the bar. Unlike her friends and many other female humans of this shallow age, she had not starved herself into a fashionable clothes hanger, or ruined her body with an excess of fast food. She was a ripe armful of curves under her short lilac dress, her bare legs and arms and decolletage a light honey colour from the sun. Her dark, wavy hair swung loose, a glass of wine was constantly twirled between her small fingers as her gaze swept around the room, looking at everything and nothing, her red shoes tapping idly.

Twice I had caught her clear green eyes looking at me from across the dance floor. Lovely eyes. They were thoughtful, as if she was puzzling over something, not clouded with drink or dark with indiscriminate lust. I never saw her look at another man the whole evening, and while they asked she permitted none of them to buy her a drink or lead her into a dance, though her feet clearly wanted to. My mild interest grew into a nagging curiosity. I wondered what she smelled like, whether her skin was as silky and fine as it looked from afar, her lips just as full and soft. And most of all, I wondered how she would taste. All humans tasted different; some were bland, or even bitter and unpleasant, and some were so rich and sweet it was difficult to stop taking. She looked like such a one.

My need to find nourishment was clawing at my insides now, watching the strange lady, enjoying her beauty, her aloofness, remembering the cool appraisal of her catlike eyes. Finally I straightened from my slouch against the wall of the club, smoothing my black jacket over my shirt cuffs, running my fingers through my unruly hair, getting ready to make my approach. I hoped the noise and dim light would distract her from looking at my deathly white skin too closely, the red circles around my eyes; she was an observant human. But before I could move my view of her was blocked by another suitor. I heard the man's crude words and her withering response, the splash of wine being thrown into the man's face, I felt the rumble of a long unused laugh in my chest. As I watched, the man cursed and spluttered and the woman rose from her stool and swept past regally, her full skirts falling neatly to her knees. She had a red flower tucked behind one ear; I caught its sweet scent as she drew closer, and to my surprise she did not turn and head for the door but straight towards me, the same thoughtful look on her pretty face.

I raised one brow in enquiry as she came into my orbit, the warmth she emitted tickling my nose, immediately I felt a lurch of raw need in my core, though my stance remained still and wary. Her pink lips quirked in a shy little smile that contradicted the boldness of her opening words. 'You look lonely,' she said calmly. 'I am also lonely, and I want to dance at least once before I go home. Would you dance with me and save me from being a wallflower?'

I was taken aback, but pleased. I smiled at her quizzically, then fished for words that would both charm her and warn her she may have bitten off more than she could chew, so to speak. 'Many men have approached you tonight and you have refused them all. I am honoured, but tell me, why do you ask this of me? I may be just as objectionable as that gentleman you just assaulted.'

As I spoke, she did a delightful thing. Her green eyes fluttered closed, and I saw her shiver, and when she opened her lids her pupils had widened, I had not used any glamour on her and yet she looked entranced. She laughed shakily before answering. 'Because you are lonely, as I said. And you don't seem a total idiot. And because you have a beautiful voice.'

I studied her face for a moment, noting the roses in her cheeks, the bold curve of her smile, the ripe scent of her body causing my hunger to surge like the ocean. The coterie of musicians on the stage had begun to play a slow, smoky tune, I took the woman's hand and led her out onto the floor. She made no comment at the cold touch of my skin, but fell into a fluid step, our fingers lacing together, a modest amount of space held between our bodies. She was silent, her eyes closed in enjoyment and concentration. She was light of foot, and my hunter's stance began to ease off as I began to enjoy myself as well, though my gaze crept over the slim column of her neck, drawn particularly to the artery fluttering beneath her skin, and then downwards to the soft abundance of her bosom under the sleeveless dress. She could fulfil both my needs this night, if I only I did not have to glamour her, if only I could take her body and her blood with her full knowledge and enjoyment. But she wasn't a hardened whore, someone who could endure the attentions of a monster without flinching. Despite her bold actions and obvious attraction to me, I knew I held a lady in my grasp.

But as I plotted how I would have her the music changed. The raunchy blues tempo turning our steps from decorous to brazen in order to keep up, the chanteuse fronting the band wailing a stream of suggestive words into the microphone. The lady's eyes opened and they looked up into my face, full of mischief. She sunk into my arms, her body pressed tightly against mine, her hips swaying. It was torture, fighting to keep my lust under control at her proximity and seductive movements. I was being teased by her lively eyes, her heat, the way she threw her head back and let her hair fan out, her throat exposed to me. My fangs wanted to run out, my member was stirring. My hands were clawing at her bare back and still she did not comment at my coldness, though I could feel her skin prickle with gooseflesh. Bodies moved around us and against us as the dance floor filled, but only she took my attention, her bewitching face and the soft weight of her curves melting into the hardness of my torso. Now would be the perfect time to reach into her mind and bring her in thrall, but before I could she swung away from me, snatching my hand from her back and twirling herself out of my grasp, her lips parting in a girlish giggle.

The old song ended with a crash of piano keys and the woman curtsied clumsily before looking up through her tumbled hair. 'Thank you for the dance, sir. I can go home happy now,' she said graciously, and turned to leave, hurrying for the door in her red heels while I stood there gaping like a numbskull. What game was she playing? The dark look she threw me over her shoulder as she exited answered my question. A game of pursuit. She was either very foolish or very brave, as with a human man this was very unwise and with myself, even more so. Very well, I would give her five minutes to think she had escaped me before showing her the extent of her recklessness.

I merged with the shadows again, picking up my wine and pretending to drink it, then slipping out into the street after a decent interval. The jazz club was located in a long, narrow alleyway, the cobblestones washed clean from a recent summer shower. I sniffed the thick, cloying air and turned right, moving at human speed until I was out of sight of people, then took a branching alley to the left, vaulting the wall at the end without effort. Hitting the ground as silently as I could, I followed the woman's scent along the empty street. A crimson spot on the ground made me pause for a moment. I picked up the flower that had fallen from her hair, or had been deliberately dropped. Sure enough, my senses had not failed me. I saw the flick of lilac skirts disappearing around the corner. I was a puff of air, a confusing blur to the few intoxicated people in the next street. I was a black-clad vision appearing in front of the woman, the flower in my hand. She squeaked and looked around quickly, but there was no one who could come to her aid. 'You dropped something, ma'am,' I said coolly, then swept down upon her, drawing her into a doorway in a rush of movement.

Her eyes grew wide as saucers as I backed her against the glass door, a blend of fright, desire and confusion in their green depths. 'Wha...what are you?' She gasped, her heart thudding erratically through our layers of clothing, a call as stirring as music to the hunter that lurked inside me. I brought my face down into the curve of her neck, breathing deep, taking in the strong, unique tang of her life force, sweet and sharp, like good champagne. She let out a little moan and I felt the heat of her body flare up, and I was unable to resist finding her lips, taking them hungrily. She resisted at first, then yielded, her mouth opening to tangle with mine.

I felt dizzy at the warmth and wetness of her lips and probing tongue, forgetting my thirst for her blood and longing for a different kind of wetness, wrapped around me tightly like a vice. 'I am a monster,' I whispered as I dragged myself away, my fangs emerging with a click. Her lids opened and she saw, and knew me for what I was, but she did not scream or struggle. She studied me, like I was a riddle she was pleased to have solved, and her hands did not move from their place on my shoulders.

'I really don't think you are,' she said, in that same calm voice in which she had asked me to dance. This confused, annoyed and delighted me all at once. I blinked for a moment, drawing back slightly from her frozen figure. Her hands fell away and fiddled nervously with her hair, I knew she was wondering whether her instinct to trust me might be wrong.

'You are a very foolish...human,' I drawled significantly. 'Why are you not afraid of me? You should be afraid.'

The woman tilted her head to one side, her green eyes narrowing. 'I live in New Orleans. Don't you think I have heard enough rumours to wonder whether there is any truth to them?' She replied, her chest rising in a tense, shuddering breath. 'I knew the moment I saw you, you weren't normal. I should have stayed away, but there was a sadness in your eyes, something sweet too, and it called to me.' She looked away, her blushes visible in the gloom of the shop doorway. Her words had sliced through the monster's shell, and for a moment I felt as vulnerable as she looked. Though I had fully intended to take her and feed from her I was now having second thoughts. For her bravery, for the glimmer of warmth and interest she was showing me, I should let her go free. I stepped back and retracted my fangs, getting reading to fade into the night and find another victim. But at the sound and movement she turned back, her small hand reaching up to stroke my cheek gingerly. 'If...if I took you home with me tonight, what would happen?' She asked quietly, looking for honesty, either ignorant of the fact I could tear her to pieces here and now, or choosing to ignore it in favour of her desire and curiosity.

But she was quite right- I was not a monster, not anymore, and I wanted her very much, wanted a few brief hours of bliss before I had to go back to the cold, lonely ground, and she was left in her lonely bed, satisfied but thinking I was nothing but a fevered dream. I took her face gently between my hands, laying a small kiss on her parted lips. 'Pleasure and some pain, but not death. You are right...you are safe with me.'

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