Obviously I don't own Southern Vampire Mysteries or True blood, or I would be a very rich Charlaine Harris.

Beta'd by KyKyXStandler

CHAPTER 1

The Wondering Addict

The crimson substance slides down, like molasses, embracing me from the inside.

"Are you ready?" He calls from the foyer of the small apartment.

"I am now, let's go!"

He opens the door for me, eager to begin our next escapade. What will we do tonight? Stroll the city park? People watch in downtown? Crash a wedding?

The door slams behind me.

This noise crawls deep inside me, controlling me like a ventriloquist does a puppet. Colorful lights sweep the room, making their rounds like guardians of the vibrant music.

Creatures thrash to the toxic volume, females eagerly calling attention to their bodies. The mass of dancers grind on each other, void of thought, just enjoying themselves. Being the jealous type, I grab the nearest body, not caring if it was a human, vampire, or dwarf.

My victim of the night is a handsome male shifter drowning in large tanned muscles. Circling my hips, I glide down his body and ease myself up with an inhuman grace. His eyes search me hungrily, promising an after show. His hands trail up my sides, teasing me, tempting me to stay.

Just as the weight of the hypnotic music sinks in, a hand makes its way to my arm, temporarily breaking my trance. My delectable partner is shooed away, and I'm left surrounded by a sudden screaming.

I accept my new dance partner, wrapping my leg around their body, swaying my hips side to side. I roll my head back in time with the music, grinding sensually against her hips.

"Oh, this one's definitely on V." She shouts over the loud music.

"Hush now, just enjoy the melody!" I can't help but laugh at her accusation.

"Take her in!" More dreary shouting. These people don't know how to have fun.

I'm dragged towards the exit, voicing my discomfort the whole way. The music finally dies to a dull static from the silent speakers, reality taking its place.

The buzzkills in blue lean close to each other, conspiring against me. They plot my demise with plans of sobriety and rehab clinics but by the time they realize I'm not in the system, I'll already be gone.

Time escapes me, only for a moment, and a vision takes over. I can almost recognize his face. His kind words, his stupid laugh, his mischievous grin…. He'd get me out of here. He wouldn't let anyone touch me like this. No one could glance my way without his permission.

I'm slapped back to the true realm, where he isn't real. Where he is only a dream. He's gone now, without a trace of evidence to prove he even existed.

The van moves, away from my imagination and away from Club Del Faux. I'm slowly coming down from my high, and there is more reality than the precious time skips I crave. I don't want to be here. I don't want to fight anymore. I just want to be with him.

I blink a few times before a face takes my focus. Their lips are moving, but whatever sounds he's trying to make are barely audible.

"This one seems to be crossfaded. She reeks of marijuana, and like she walked out of a liquor store that just had an earthquake." He sounds like he's miles away, but his words are still clear.

"I smell like –hic- raspbberrieisss" I slur half-heartedly, searching the well-manicured lawn for an appropriate place to clear my stomach. I settle for a random patch of grass, not having much time to find a better place, and relieve my stomach of its unsightly pressures.

I don't need to look up to see the disgust on their faces; their expressions are penetrating the back of my head. Hands are placed on my shoulders by one of the soldiers in blue, pulling my long chocolate hair from my face.

She pushes me, guiding me through a long corridor, then finally down a set of stairs. I stumble, but the hands are firm, keeping me up. We make it to a stark white room, with one other door. The officer lifts me into a foldout chair. She grabs for my wrists, and I let her, now mesmerized by her soft, caramel hands.

She leaves, and I see she left me a present on each wrist. I look at the jewelry in awe, admiring the sparkling metal and –wait, where's my purse?

"Your purse has been taken for evidence; you will receive it after telling us where you got the V and what your intentions were for the amount you had." I must have mumbled that out loud, because here in front of me is a gorgeous male in pressed white linens answering my thoughts.

A little young, but I could work around that. A small nose and a strong jaw line adorn his face. Overall, soft features that haven't grown to their full shape. A baby face that would have blossomed into a charming man.

His small lips form a stiff line, signifying his overall unhappiness. His eyes are a stunning gray, a gene so rare, it's thought to be extinct. His eyebrows are pressed forward in frustration. What's got him so upset?

The paleness of his face and the way he held his breath tells me he's a vampire. Hot and dangerous. There was once a time that he would have scared me, but here I am, feeling invincible.

"Oh noooo…" I whine, tearing up. I'm conscious of the danger he's capable of, which means I'm sobering up. Less of the dreams come to me, and I'm stuck in this fascist reality.

"You'll get your belongings back, minus one particular item, once you finish answering my questions." The voice continues on as if that was my only concern. He places a bottle of water in front of me and is out the door without a second glance.

Fuck.

I cross my arms, careful of my pretty bracelets, and rest my head. Even in my drunken state, I know that my next high will be a hell of a lot further than I want it to be. I ignore the bottled water and close my eyes, praying to God that I wake up in my apartment tub.

A door creaks loudly, waking me. I must have slept through the day because I'm years more sober than I want to be. I look around the room in confusion and finally my eyes land on the Roman vampire before me. Images of last night fly through my head, and I slowly come to realize how much shit I'm in. Worse off, there's no Damon to save me.

He sits in the chair opposite me, a handkerchief held out. I take a second to realize that I'm no longer in handcuffs, and my face feels tight and dry, like I left a face mask on too long. I take the handkerchief with a grateful nod and wipe my face. I'm embarrassed that anyone has to see me like this, much less the gorgeous boy before me.

"Thank you."

"Ms. Cane, where did you get the V?"

Well, he doesn't waste any time. He must have seen my fake ID, so I don't bother looking confused.

"From a vampire." My brain is hazy. I don't want to talk to him.

"Drink some water. Where is this vampire now?" I keep my face stoic and do as I'm told, eager to leave this rancid place.

"He's gone."

"Where did he go? Did you steal it from him?" He voice is hard, obviously offended by the thought.

"No, do you think I have a death wish?" As if he would believe a vampire would just give his blood to someone like me. I make my voice soft and childlike in hopes that he'll leave me alone. "He left it for me."

"Who left it for you?"

"My friend." He gave a look to my vagueness, silently demanding me to elaborate. Clearly he's used to getting straight answers.

"His name was Damon and he's gone now. So it doesn't matter where I got it from, I can't get it again." Tears prick my eyes at the mention of his name. I'm quick to use my tears to my advantage.

"Do you have any food?"

A soft sigh escapes him. He's obviously frustrated with me. The fact that he's actually leaving to find me food means I must have something valuable to him.

If only he knew just how irrelevant I am to him. No information from me would be considered valuable, and the second he realizes how much of a waste of time I am, he'll let me leave.

I lean back and study the white room. The only furniture is the metal table and two chairs. There is another white door.

I stand to open the door out of curiosity to find a plain, but clean, bathroom.

He really went all out when making this nifty room. He also works with the police so he must be important.

I'd give it an hour before he lets me go home.

Just as I sit back down, the boy comes through the door, a bowl of cereal in his hands.

"Who is Damon?" This guy doesn't waste any time.

"He's no one." Even though the words pass my lips, I know they're untrue.

I sit at a bench, enjoying the view of a lit up square. Trees, benches, and endless fountains surround me. Earbuds in, I nod my head to the music and attempt to glue the incredible view to my mind.

Noticing how late it is, I make my way to the exit with full intentions of going home. Just before I reach the street, a mysterious stairway hidden by trees catches my eye. My inner thrill for discovering new scenes overcomes me, and I make a beeline for the secret hideaway.

Looking up, I see it's at least twenty stories high. There is a gate reading 'HOTEL STAFF ONLY' blocking the stairway. It's too tall to jump over, and the gaps aren't wide enough for me to crawl through.

I move to the side of the railing, and jump to catch the metal frame. Pulling myself onto the platform, I jump again to the next railing, eventually making my way to the roof. I finished my hike only slightly out of breath. With adrenaline still pulsing through me, I run to the opposite ledge, leaning over. The view from so high up is beautiful, and you could almost see the stars over the city lights. I'm so engaged by the beauty that I almost jump off, when I hear a voice speak over my music.

"Do you truly enjoy the view?" I whip my head around to see a young boy. Our eyes meet and I can see he's dead inside. A streak of fear passes me, and I have to stop myself from bolting. He must have sensed it, because his hands fly up in defense, showing a small gesture of surrender. I remove my earbuds and eye him for a moment, judging his integrity.

"I do." I keep my answer short and curt. I turn my back to him, and eye the cement below, searching for an escape route if things get messy.

Nothing to climb down, it would have to be a prayer and a jump. Something I don't think I'd survive.

I glance over my shoulder to find him still standing there, only a little closer. I don't like where this is going. I start to walk around the vampire, mindful of my distance from him, to the stairs I just climbed.

I successfully make my way around him, and I'm only a step away from the stairway.

"Please, don't go." It's so quiet, I almost didn't hear it. I look over my shoulder to him, confusion clear on my face. "Will you take my soul?"

I wasn't expecting that. Be my meal, spend the night with me, let me kill you… but no, he wants me to kill him? Who the hell does he think he is?

His incredulous question drives me to turn completely. I stalk towards him, stopping only a breath away, searching for any malicious intent.

"And just why would any vampire volunteer themselves like that?" My bright blue eyes darken to their naturel red state, hands drawn to my hips. Above his head lies a simple hourglass laying on its side. As per all vampires, as long as he's not killed, he could live forever.

"I've seen many things in my time, and I've done many things that cannot be forgiven. I need to repent for my sins, and what better way than to die an unholy death?" His eyes plead to me, begging me, just take him and do away with his life. It would certainly be a payday if I did, but it's still considered murder, his people would want justice.

"No. Our kinds don't mix, and I'm sure you have loved ones that will seek me out. You have a long life ahead of you; you should use it for good. If you feel such a desire to repent, why do you not seek a church?" A breeze comes from behind me, and he does everything he can to not scrunch his nose. I sigh, and take his disgust as my sign to leave. Without a gate blocking me, I trot down the first set of stairs.

I make it to the third platform to find him waiting for me, standing directly in the middle, leaving no room for me to pass him. I mind my distance from him, reminding myself that behind his pretty face are fangs that aren't afraid to hurt me.

"I do apologize; I do not mean to insult you. Please reconsider, I can grant you immunity to any other vampires, and I can give you money. I have plenty to give, and you certainly wouldn't have to wait tables anymore."

His eyes are screaming at me to help him, poor guy. I wish I could help him, but-

"Wait, how do you know I wait tables?" I'm startled that he knows this, but his eyes tell me so much that I no longer fear him. Besides, if he wanted to kill me, he would have done so by now.

"As sheriff of this district, it is my duty to know of all supes in my territory. That includes demons, which includes you."

So, if he was with the authority, then he couldn't touch me without facing his council. Immunity might actually be an option now... My hand goes to my chin, reconsidering his proposal.

It all comes back to the fact that it's still murder. I've yet to take a life, and I don't plan on changing that.

"Hmph. Tell me, o wise one, why have you not just walked in the sun? Why actively seek me out, when you could do it yourself?" I cross my arms over my chest, defensive of the vampire.

He looks down for a moment, shame clear on his face. So he already tried that. Now I can't leave him alone. I inhale deeply, making a sound decision.

"Let's sit. Tell me of your 'oh so terrible' stories."

And we did. We ended up sitting until it was time for the sun to rise. He spoke of what little family he has, and some of his adventures with his son. Fortunately, nothing too serious came up in topic, something I was extremely grateful for.

By the end of our chat, he had a small sense of hope about him.

"Would you like to meet again? I'm sure you have a few more horror stories to tell before your time is up." The words escape me before I really think about what I'm asking.

I look to his face in time to see a small glimmer of excitement, and all sense of regret disappears. He's handsome, sure, and our talks are intriguing enough. Though our kinds didn't mix, I couldn't see the harm in talking to him again.

That was only a year ago. I don't remember much more than meeting him a few more times. Each night, I would promise to take his life the next time we met. It didn't take long until he began asking about me, what I've seen in my life, and what I did to get to Dallas. I told him of my lack of family, and my simple existence, only sharing as much as he did.

To this day, I can't remember his name or what his face looked like. It kills me to know that he's out there somewhere waiting for my return. Sometimes I think that he never existed, and it was my loneliness that created him, but my dreams refuse to believe that. If it weren't for these damn dreams, I would be a happy person, just living life as a traveler, like I did before I 'met' him.

My heart swells thinking of him. I take another bite of my cereal, exaggerating my chewing to buy some time. The handsome boy sits patiently in front of me, while I sip the rest of my bowl.

"When was the last time you spoke to 'Damon'?"

I debated telling him that Damon might not exist, but thought better of it.

"I don't remember. He's gone, so why does it matter?"

"Was he killed, or self-inflicted?" His voice takes a harsh tone. He's getting fed up with me.

"I don't remember. He's just gone." I shrug, wanting this to be done with.

"Ms. Cane, it is very important that you tell me where he went. Please cooperate, or face the consequences." He looks very stern and almost menacing.

"What do you have to do with any of this? It's not like it's your blood at stake." I'm done playing these games. His beautiful face just tugs at my heart strings. I haven't found anyone this attractive since Damon. Looking at him felt as if I was betraying him, and it just reminded me of my stupid dreams even more.

"You see, Ms. Cane, it is my blood, which is why it is imperative that I find the culprit and put a stop to this. I will not have some demon stop me from finding the thief who caused this." Something must have popped in him.

He stands, speaking an ancient language. Something I haven't heard in centuries. It was almost soothing, if not for the string of curses here and there.

"Eric!"

Hey! Something I understood! He storms out, and in comes a tall, blonde, man. Thinking back, I've only been talking for about 10 minutes. I think I might have beaten my record by about a half hour! This is the quickest I've ever been released from custody!

But if I'm leaving, why is he holding a silver chain? Panic sets in and I'm on my feet, pulling furniture between myself and the giant.

"It will be much quicker if you come to me."

"Why aren't you letting me leave?" Police wouldn't do this, nor would the authority. This guy must be AWOL or something to be able to pull this off.

With vampire speed, he is behind me in an instant, painfully pulling at my hair. I thrust my palm in his face, effectively breaking his nose. A grunt escapes him. His hand grabs my wrist and twists it taut behind my back. He kicks the back of my legs, sending my knees to the floor. His knee pierces my spine, forcing my breath from me and keeping me in place.

Once in chains, he takes a moment to wipe the blood from his healed nose. "Feisty. I like that in my meals."

He drags me to another room with silver walls and a metal floor. Ice seemed to embrace every visible surface.

Thrown to the floor, I curl into a tight ball, desperate for warmth. There are icicles hanging off the AC vent, and the hard floor offers no chance of keeping my body heat. Fucking vampires.

The blonde slams the door, effectively taking away any form of light with him.

The minutes go by, and I feel my lips go numb. I can feel ice on my lashes, crashing against each other every time I blink. The hairs on my arms are standing on edge, and I can't stop from shivering in my revealing club clothes.

I crawl with little strength to the door, pushing and pulling in the dark room, desperate to escape this horrid ice box.

With no luck, I crawl into a tight crouch, sitting just next to the door. What the hell did I do to deserve this?

I move to wipe my face, but the smell of blood stops me.

Realizing whose blood it is, I eagerly lick my palm, lapping every frozen drop from my hand. If I'm going to be here, I might as well enjoy it.

The world returns to the pleasant void I crave. Less thoughts pass my mind, and more dreams of Damon. Although I love being with him, I can only be with him in my dreams.

When you're stuck in reality, dreams don't come true. If a dream can't come true, then how is it any better than a nightmare?

"What are you doing?!" I can't help but laugh! Thanks to him, we were able to sneak into an Indian wedding. Now he's belly dancing with the bridesmaids! What makes it so hysterical, is that he isn't bad!

He waves a hand to me, inviting me to join. A blush crawls to my face, and I find myself dancing to him in time with the Hindi music.

Before I can make it to the dance floor, the room floods with light. I'm blinded for a moment by a silhouette in the door frame. Fresh tears stream down my face. My dream is ruined.

My vision clears to find none other than Damon in the doorway. I jump to my feet, anxious to see if it's really him, or a continuation of my dream. My sore joints scream for me to stop, but my desperation and the blood from the vampire push me to get an answer.

I rush to meet him, but upon seeing his face more clearly, I step back.

"You had to ruin it, didn't you?" I feel completely sober. This vampire's blood isn't nearly as strong as my usual stash.

I plop on the floor, suddenly exhausted.

"Where did you get it from?"

"Your minion." At this point my tan skin had paled, and you could clearly see my blue veins.

"Eric would not give you my blood. Where did you get it from?"

…That could have been bad.

"Uuh, I got it from Damon, like I said earlier." I play it off, hoping he doesn't realize my mistake.

"Like I've already told you, I don't know and I can't get any more because he's gone. I don't know where he is, or how to find him. I've told you what you've wanted, now release me." I glare up at him from my ball of warmth, spitting words through my chattering teeth. In my dream state, I wasn't bothered by the cold. Now that I'm sober, I want nothing to do with this horrid ice chest.

He seems to ponder for a moment before turning away. He was halfway through the door when I call out to him.

"Please don't go." He stops, glancing at me over his shoulder. I take a deep breath before explaining.

"I'd rather die than have to go another minute without him. He does nothing but haunt my dreams and plague my life. Please, just kill me if I am of no further use to you." I beg to him, desperate to be rid of my living nightmare.

He reaches down with his vampire speed and grips my ankle. I don't even have the energy to kick or fight, so I go limp, like a rag doll, allowing him to drag me out of the ice box. The ice floor scrapes against my face, and is eventually replaced with carpet, then tile.

I'm back to the small room from before. He sits in one of the three chairs, patiently waiting for me to get up. I look up at him, sorrow evident in my red, scratched face. He ignores me, staring at the wall straight ahead of him.

How could anyone be so cruel?

"What is your name?" I sound pitiful.

"Godric."

"What made you so cruel?"

He doesn't bother answering me.

"There will be a woman in here shortly. You will be courteous to her, and you will answer all her questions." He doesn't bother looking my way. I slowly stand up and sit in the chair across from him.

I stare straight into his grey eyes. I want him to see my face. I want him to see what his actions have done to me.

A small knock at the door interrupts my silent interrogation, and a petite female makes her way to the other chair across from me. Godric stays in the room, I assume for safety reasons.

"Hello, I'm Sookie, pleasure to meet ya!" She eyes the redness of my face before offering her delicate hand. Thinking nothing of it, I reciprocate the hand shake.

"Genevieve. Nice to meet you." I keep my voice even, making sure not to give anything away. She's cute enough, with her big bosom and small frame. Blonde hair, blue eyes, tan skin and -oh shit she's fae.

A flash makes its way to my mind. A memory of a younger me. Bloody wings being ripped off me, looks of disgust surround me.

A shudder runs through my spine, and I try to keep a calm exterior. 'How dare you pull a memory from me without asking! Where are your manners?'

Sookie blinks for a moment, processing the information. The worst part about being a demon? The inability to block anymore. I could already feel her digging around more, trying to find answers. She keeps her grip on my hand, and with Godric there, I doubt I could get away with not complying.

"When was the last time you saw Damon?" Straight to business. At least she's not digging for my past anymore.

Words weren't needed as I passed the image to the fairy. A large cage, silver chains, a man who's face I can't recall. Another man speaking, and I can sense the sadistic vibe he gives. I'm released and I'm desperate to look back, to get one final look at… and it's gone. The memory runs like a blank tape.

I make eye contact with Sookie, sorrow in my features. She looks to Godric and shakes her head somberly. I have nothing relevant to him. Just as I had predicted. I can see the temptation in Sookie. She wants to stay. To ask about my wings. I look to Godric, waiting for the final nod granting my release.

"She has nothing… but he could still be back there! Maybe if we try to jog her memory, she'll remember where they were!"

What is she thinking?! I'm not necessary to solving his stupid case! There's no reason to hold me captive!

"Godric, it's not worth it! He's gone; I've been searching for him for a year now. Either he's gone for good, or he doesn't want to be found." The irony, I must seem like the devil on his left shoulder, and Sookie the angel on his right. I pray he decides to let me go, instead of running on this wild goose chase.

He takes his time answering, considering the facts carefully. "I think it is worth getting a sorceress to help." He stands up and walks out the door without another word. He leaves the door wide open.

While he probably left it open for Sookie to follow him, I hurriedly cross the room to catch up to him. I'm not about to sit around to be put in the ice box again. I stay close behind Godric, Sookie coming after me, a moment later.

We walk into a pristine white living room where three more vampires sit around a glass coffee table. Sookie passes us to stand next to a brunet male. The tall brunet keeps his face in Sookie's hair, inhaling deeply. The other vampires are noticeably holding their breath. I stay behind Godric, mindful to keep a distance from him. He's probably holding his breath too.

"Get Ms. Christine here as soon as possible. We may have a lead on who the seller is." He barks orders with a sense of authority. He must be their nest leader. The Hispanic female vampire has a phone out; dialing a number faster than my eyes can follow. Her accent is clear as she speaks to 'Ms. Christine'.

"Yes please, as soon as possible."

Godric turns to me.

"Until you bring me to the seller, you will stay here. You are welcome to any food you find, and you will sleep where I tell you. You are not allowed to leave. Is that understood?"

For being a prisoner, he's being very civil. He probably sympathizes me due to my lack of memory.

I nod, not bothering with a reply. If he can hurt me so much, without a sense of remorse, then he can live with me not talking to him. He had his moment to explain himself and apologize, and he wasted it.

I walk off to the kitchen, ignoring everyone else in the room. If I'm going to be stuck here, then I'm going to stick as close to my usual regime as possible. Sookie walks in a moment later to find me scouring the cabinets for food.

"Bill and them are talkin' business, so I thought we'd chit chat in the meantime." She has a genuine smile; she seems nice enough. I eye her up and down, duly noting the flower themed fabric. I shrug, and resume my raiding. They didn't have many options, but I eventually found cookies and milk. While not much better than booze, it's still enough to satisfy my growling stomach. Sookie has made herself comfortable at the dining table, so I might as well play nice and pour her a glass.

She asks about my family and where I'm from, things I could care less for. I keep my answers simple and short, effectively evading her from wanting to ask more about my life. She makes up for it by talking about her passed grandmother, her brother Jason, and her life with Bill. It's interesting enough to keep my attention.

Our conversation is cut short by a loud knock at the door. Godric opens the door to reveal a tall, frail, older woman, with eyes that seemed to follow your every move.

I can tell by just looking at her that I wouldn't like this witch.

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Top of the World – Cataracs

Don't Threaten Me with a Good Time – P! TD

Mad Hatter – Melanie Martinez

Down – Marian Hill