Loyalty. n. a strong feeling of support or allegiance.

Schyleur (Sky-ler) Robicheaux (Robe-uh-sh-oh) pulled her hairclip out of her still wet, pale, breast length, blonde hair and looked at herself in the mirror. Her emerald green eyes were housed beneath her thinly plucked eyebrows that were shaped in an oddly perfect arch. They were rimmed with a sort of blood shot red. She hadn't been getting very much sleep lately.

She dropped the towel that had been wrapped around her freshly showered body and took a deep breath and let her eyes travel her body. She was small. She wasn't necessarily thin, but she was short in stature with a small amount of hips, but an abundant amount of breasts. She took in her neck. It was slightly long. Her nose was pointy, noticeably so. Freckles made a path just across her nose and cheek bones. She had a tattoo traveling from beneath her throat out to the left, a simple thing; "J'existe pour ma famille", a reminder of her oath to her brother. It meant that she lived for her family. It was a reminder of everything that her life was based around. She wouldn't exist without family. Below her stomach and to the left was another tattoo; a cross, her first tattoo and the one she regretted the most. A plain silver stomach ring hung from her belly button. Schyleur bent down and opened one of her bathroom drawers, pulling out a make-up bag. She grabbed up her towel from the floor and turned around to throw it in to the hamper and grab the clothing that she had set on her down toilet seat. She pulled on her underwear and then bra before looking in the mirror again and sighing. She was drained. She was so drained. She reached her hand behind her to pull her bra strap from where it was sliding and pulled it up to her shoulder. Her hand paused as her thumb brushed the third tattoo she had ever gotten. It was a moon. Schyleur could close her eyes and see it, a simple cresent moon with a small star beside it. It was wedged between three lines, directly in the center; two lines above it and one beneath, each line stacked on top of the other so that each sentence had its own line.

"Vous n'êtes pas faible.

Tu es aimé.

Vous ne vous arrêterez jamais."

It was another reminder. That was all she had tattooed on her; reminders.

"You are not weak," Schyleur spoke in to her empty bathroom the words she knew to be etched in to her skin, "You are loved. You will never stop."

She licked her lips and then glanced at the tattoo on her left wrist. It was the newest and the last. She'd gotten it more than two years ago. Chaque soldat doit tomber. Every solider must fall. Schyleur took a deep breath and continued to dress. She yanked on her black jeans and a matched black halter crop top. She quickly applied some deep maroon lipstick and then cursed when a slam made her eyeliner lift higher than needed. She washed it off quickly now prepared for the series of thumps and crashing she heard from across the hall. She left her makeup on the sink and rushed out of her room, bare foot, her wet hair clinging to her face. She pushed open the slightly ajar door of her makeshift brother's room and then leaned against the door frame, her hands crossed over her chest.

"Gosh damn it, Alcide. What are you doing in here?" she shook her head as she took in the mess around her.

"Nothing," he grumbled from where he sat on his bed, his face in his hands, his elbows on his knees.

Schyleur knew Alcide. She knew him well. She knew that he was lying. She'd been listening in on his phone calls all week. She knew.

"That vamp in Shreveport giving you a hard time?" she guessed aloud.

Alcide's head snapped up and he looked at her. He looked at her in that way that told her that he was seeing straight to her soul. She rolled her eyes,

"Don't give me that crap, Alcide. You should have come to me."

"I can handle it," he took a deep breath and then stood to his full height towering over her small 5'2 frame.

Schyleur looked around Alcide's room. He had clothes scattered everywhere, an extremely uncommon sight. His bed had been thrown together, a jumbled mess of rumpled blankets and shirts he had obviously thrown out of his closet with the ajar door. It was hanging slightly. His temper had flared. She didn't let her eyes remain on the hole like shape near the closet. She knew Alcide punched walls. It seemed like a more common occurrence in all honesty and that was what bothered her. The Alcide she'd always known had always kept a clear head.

Alcide was 6'4 a full foot and 2 inches taller than her. He had a more or less oval shaped face with evenly spaced light brown eyes that rested beneath his slightly thick black eyebrows. His face was free of blemishes. There were no birthmarks, moles or freckles to speak of. He had a slightly long nose, nothing longer than hers, but something noticeable. He had the beginning of a beard beginning to peak not only across his chin and lower face but on the space between his nose and full pink lips. He pulled his shirt off over his head. He was broad and muscular. Schyleur let her eyes travel from his neck, across his beefy chest, across his rippling six pack and down to the "V" that traveled down in to his dark blue jeans that hung loosely from his waist. He didn't seem to notice. He seemed lost in thought. She didn't care if he did notice. She licked her lips and then let her eyes make the journey back up his body and to his face.

"You can't handle everything alone," she started, "You-,"

"Don't do that," he started grabbing clothes from his bed, "Don't analyze me, Sky. I don't like it," he threw the clothes on to his closet floor and slammed it shut.

"Then, talk to me, Alcide."

He made his way to the dresser beside his closet and pulled it open.

"I'm paying off debt for pops, Sky. That's it," he rummaged around in the drawer, "I don't need you getting involved," he pulled out a red and black plaid shirt.

"If it concerns you it concerns me," she said stubbornly.

Alcide slid his arms in to his shirt and closed in on her as he began to button it. Schyleur slid out of his way and then followed him to their bathroom.

He looked at himself in the mirror as he buttoned his shirt.

"Keep your makeup out the damned sink," he grumbled banging a drawer open and grabbing a brush.

"Don't you dare try to pick a fight with me, Alcide," Schyleur snapped, "and you are not finna' go in to some vamp bar in Shreveport all alone so you can just erase that thought from your head right now."

"I don't have time to do this tonight," Alcide brushed his hair a quick four brushes and dropped the brush beside the sink in front of her makeup bag.

"Good. Neither do I."

Alcide growled lowly, a sound from somewhere deep in his throat as he tried to button the last two buttons at the top of his shirt. She knew that his hands were shaking. He was angry. He was partially angry with himself for getting caught by Sky and partially angry with her for eavesdropping and not taking his demands seriously.

"Sky, you're staying in this house!" his voice boomed and his hand hit the tile on their counter.

Schyleur took a deep breath and closed in on Alcide. He turned towards her without having to be asked.

"I'm no were, sweetheart. You can't command me of anything," she reached up and grabbed the second lowest button to close it.

His hands closed on her wrists.

"I'm hoping I wouldn't need to command you, Sky," he looked down at her, his brown eyes piercing in to her green ones.

"Bash would have let me go," Schyleur said quietly.

She hated that. She hated using her brother's name that way. Alcide released her wrist and his hands feel to his side as she continued with his two buttons. She took a step to look him over.

Sabastian, Bash, Robicheaux had not only been a member of the same pack as Alcide, but he had been his childhood best friend. The three of them had grown up together. The boys were close in age, Sabastian being three years older than Alcide. Schyleur and Sabastian's father, Ryan had been a member of Jackson Herveaux's pack. He had guided Alcide when his father was too busy leading to get everything done.

Alcide had been a constant when Schyleur was growing up. She and Sabastian's mother had been a plain ole human, a blonde bombshell with green eyes that gave Schyleur everything that she had in the looks department except for her long ballerina like legs and almost otherworldly symmetrical facial features. Bash was apparently the twin of their father. It was funny how that worked. In the end, Bash had gone through the change. Sky had not.

Bash had been 16 and Schyleur 9 when their father passed on. Their mother, Kimberly had stayed with the pack. Bash needed to be with people like him. That was what she'd said and she believed it through and through. She died a short three years later and Bash had stepped up. He had gotten a job and taken over taking care of his sister. At 19 he had become the sole provider for his 11-year-old sister. He adored the ground she walked on calling her any astrology driven thing he could think of ranging from Sky, Star, Moon and Sun to his favorite little Constellation. He'd drilled it in to her head that they were all that they had and all that they needed. He'd drilled it in to her head that family always came first and weather she was a were or not the pack was family. They were the only family they'd had. They treated her like family. The older members of the pack took turns helping her with school and picking her up when Bash couldn't. They fed them and even helped with the bills when Bash just couldn't do it on his own.

Bash had been one hell of a warrior. According to the pack he and Alcide were a sight to behold when they fought together. They did everything together however, so it wasn't a stretch for Schyleur to imagine their strange telepathy like connection on the battlefield. It had been Alcide that had introduced Bash to his wife, Lisa. It had been Bash who introduced Alcide to Debbie. They double dated. Alcide was the best man in Bash's wedding and he was the Godfather of Bash's daughter, Faith, born exactly a month and two weeks after his death.

Schyleur had been 18 when her brother had gotten killed fighting with vampires. Jackson and Alcide would hear nothing of her leaving the pack. As far as they were concerned she was a part of it. Jackson had said it was an injustice to her parents. Alcide had claimed Bash would come from his death bed and kill him if he didn't take care of his little sister and daughter. Lisa had taken Faith and moved her to Florida. Her sister was the mate to the pack master there. Faith would be welcomed in to their pack with open arms if she had the trait. Sky had given them her blessing. She would see Faith every summer. It had all been settled. She'd moved in with the Herveauxs.

That had been five years ago. She was 23 now, Alcide 27. They still lived together, a comfortable arrangement. It was how she stayed close with her last remaining family and how Alcide kept an eye on her.

Alcide was her protector. He was the person that made sure the doors were locked and checked her car for malfunctions. He was the person that reached the top shelves for her and told her when she needed to cool her shit. He had been that way long before Sabastian's death. Sabastian always said that they would end up married. He would always smack Alcide on the back and tell him that if he ever got over Debbie he could always marry Schyleur. She would blushed and Alcide would roll his eyes. Bash was that sort of person. He said whatever it was that popped in to his head and everyone else just sort of expected nothing else.

Jackson Herveaux welcomed the idea of having the last Robicheaux officially on his family tree, no matter her shifting abilities, or lack thereof. The pack thought that it was inevitable. Schyleur and Alcide had yet to follow through. They were comfortable with each other. They could change in front of each other, sure. They had very open and honest conversations. They cried together and cursed together and God, did they laugh together, but beside two drunken nights of tumbling off in to Alcide's king size bed together nothing had changed within their relationship.

Alcide had hinted at more. Sky had recanted. She didn't want to mess with family. She didn't want him to be with her because he thought that was what Bash would have wanted. She knew Alcide would be pack master one day like his father before him. What if she only bore children that never came in to their heritage? What if she only birthed children that were not weres? She didn't need that sort of pressure from everyone. She didn't want their relationship to fail. She felt like shoving Alcide away was a spit to her brother's face, but she never had to actually shove him. He was never one to push. She had been the one to jump his bones the two times she'd warmed the other side of his bed.

She knew that he saw other women. He knew that she'd occasionally saw other men. They'd never brought them home… ever. They were strange but they worked. She did some banking for Alcide and his father's construction company for little to nothing. Alcide took care of the house. She didn't need the money. She just liked the responsibility and the feeling of being helpful. That was one less person Jackson had to have on a payroll.

"I promised your brother I would take care of you, Sky," he planted a quick kiss to her forehead and side stepped her, walking around her and out of the bathroom.

She spun around to watch as he walked down the hall. He turned in to his bedroom and she rushed down the hall and to her own room across from his. She rushed in and grabbed the first pair of black boots her eyes landed on. She picked up two socks from her floor that didn't match and yanked them on to her feet before forcing them in to her still tied shoes. She heard his keys. She bound out of her room. He was walking down the stairs. She chased after him and dashed in front of him, slamming her back against their front door.

"Alcide please."

He sighed and his eyes darted around their kitchen. It paused on the magnetic whiteboard that rested on their fridge. Schyleur had an abundant amount of useless knowledge tied up in her brain. She wrote something there for him daily; reminders, bible scriptures, quick little notes or random words with definitions.

Before she had gotten in to the shower she'd written, "Loyalty. n. a strong feeling of support or allegiance" with her red marker, drawing a heart beneath it. Alcide closed his eyes. He took a deep breath. He opened his eyes and peered down at her, moving in slightly, crushing Sky between his body and the door. His hands laid palm out against the wood of the door on either side of her head. He leaned down, his breath hitting her forehead.

"I don't want anything to ever happen to you, Sky," it was low, a whisper, "especially because of me."

"I promised my brother I would be fearless," Sky said softly, her words falling atop his broad shoulders and weighing down his resistance, "I promised him that the pack was family and that I would do anything for that family," she looked up at him, "You're my family," she reached up and planted a hand on his face.

His eyes closed in response.

"You aren't doing this alone," she said softly.

"I know," he chuckled and his body shook with the gesture.

Schyleur wrapped her arms around Alcide's waist and smashed her face in to his chest and inhaled just because. She wasn't a were by any means, but she did have a pretty great sense of smell and Alcide always smelled the best… like home. He didn't hug her back. His hands remained on either side of her.

"You listen to me at all times. You're just going to sit at the bar and not draw attention to yourself."

Schyleur nodded her head against him.

"Promise me, Schyleur,"

Her full name rolled off of his lips in a way that told her that he was serious and she nodded again,

"I need you to say it."

"I promise," she pulled her face out of his shirt and looked up at him, her green eyes glimmering.

And his anger at the fact that he had just agreed to something so stupid dissolved right before his very own eyes.

X

Fangtasia was a dark and secluded club in Shreveport that took far longer to get to than Schyleur liked. She understood why Alcide had, had to leave during the day to make it in time for his appointment. The club was a rather large building with the word Fangtasia in a bright red sign lit ablaze above the damned thing. To Sky's irritation there was only one very obvious entrance and exit designated by another lit sign and a rope across the door. A red carpet like thing rolled its way out of the door and a woman stood beside the rope letting in select people, two rather large men standing on either side of the door. A red awning stood in front of the door casting a shadow against the woman's face.

Schyleur looked to Alcide who was already looking at her, one hand on the wheel and the other on his key in the ignition. He killed his truck's battery.

"Do you want to stay in the car?" he looked at her, a small comforting look that told her that she could run for the hills screaming and he would think no less of her.

"No," she smiled a small smile, "I can do this."

He nodded twice.

"Let's go."

She watched Alcide crack his neck both ways before climbing out of his truck and jogging around to open her door for her. He held his hand out and she set her freshly painted maroon nails in to his hand. She slid off of his seat and looked down at herself. She'd thrown on a gray jacket at the last minute and reapplied her makeup when they'd gotten in to Shreveport. She was slightly anxious and slightly excited.

"Don't roam, Sky," Alcide pushed his truck door shut and dug in his front pocket.

"Okay," she held out her hand to him.

"And if you want to leave tell me immediately," he pulled out the silver ring he carried around and dropped it in to her palm.

She slid it on to her finger. She and Alcide often went drinking with matching wedding bands. It stopped men from hitting on her most of the time and it helped Alcide from almost getting his bones jumped right there at the bar.

"Do vampires respect marriage?" Sky asked, looking up at Alcide as he scanned the areas around them.

"I don't know," he admitted, "but it is silver," he looked down at her and chuckled, his lustrous, white teeth making an appearance.

Schyleur laughed and rolled her eyes.

"It won't come to that," she reminded.

"You're right," he threw an arm around her shoulder and gave her a once over before they started towards the entrance of Fangtasia.

Alcide didn't bother with going to the back of line, held in a single file position thanks to two red ribbons on each side of the line. He closed in on the woman that was working the entrance and they simply looked at each other.

"Pam," he said tightly.

Schyleur decided that she was beautiful, extremely so. She had long dirty blonde hair that was a perfectly evenly length all the way around. Hints of brown accompanied it. Her eyes were big and blue, like water, beautiful enough for Schyleur to stare in to them until she drowned. Her eyes reminded Schyleur of her nickname, Sky. Her eyes were the most beautiful pair she had ever seen and that was putting it lightly. She was wearing a black latex outfit, long sleeved, the front zipper pulled dangerously low revealing her cleavage. A thick black choker rested around her neck. Big black hoop earring rested in her ears and Schyleur caught a glimpse of fangs as she placed her perfectly manicured nails in to Alcide's hand. Her nails were long, shaped in to a simple yet sharp point. Diamonds had been put on the ring finger of each hand. Her heels were black pumps and they were dangerously high. They were the kind of shoes Schyleur knew would result in her breaking her ankle.

"Alicde," she echoed his name back at him before looking at Sky, "who's your friend?"

"Wife," he said simply, "Sky."

Pam slid her hand out of Alcide's and held it towards Schyleur who looked at it for a while before shaking it.

"I've never seen you wear a ring," Pam challenged looking to Alcide and then Sky, "and I need to see some I.D sweetheart."

"Oh," Schyleur started to fumble for her wallet, "Right. Sorry."

She produced her card quickly and handed it to Pam who looked at it and then her and then at the card again. She held the card up beside Sky's face and then shrugged and rolled her eyes before holding the car out between her two fingers.

"Eric is expecting you," she told Alcide, "and enjoy your night Ms. Robicheaux," she winked.

Schyleur slightly blushed as she jammed her ID in to her pocket.

"Thank you, Pam."

Alcide grabbed Sky's hand and Pam smiled widely before lifting the rope. Alcide pulled her along inside and Sky could have sworn she was more than shocked. Fangtasia was supposed to be some vampire crazy bar. It looked nothing like she imagined. It all seemed pretty tame to her. The walls were painted a dark blood red. There was a bar to one side of the room that was mostly empty. People danced around the tables and chairs that were there. It looked like any other nightclub.

"Don't underestimate the situation," Alcide whispered in her cheek as he began to lead her towards the bar, "The night is still young."

Schyleur nodded at that and didn't even protest when Alcide pulled out a chair at the bar for her and then ordered her a rum and coke with no rum and no ice, preferably still in a sealed can before giving her a warning look and leaving her to head towards what seemed like a small hallway. Schyleur leaned back in to her chair comfortable and simply people watched.

Alcide had been right.

There were two cages occupied by women who were dancing at an alarmingly fast pace that could be nothing but vampire speed. The club had filled up. People were smashed together. There were people dressed simply like she was. There were people that had simply outdone themselves. There were people that were wearing little to nothing along with collars and Schyleur had to admit that this was a new world for her. It was new, but it wasn't scary. This was the choice of the people that were in the club. No one was being forced to do anything. No one was being beaten or publicly fed on. She sat comfortably with her legs crossed as she drank her coke and continued to scan the room. It was… aberrant. That was the word she had been looking for. Aberrant was a noun she reminded herself, a word that described a person place or thing. It described this place pretty damn well if her opinion meant anything.

X

Schyleur was on her third coke when she saw Alcide coming from the dark hall where he had disappeared. He didn't look at her. He didn't look in her general direction. Instead he kept close to the wall and started towards the back of the club. Schyleur let her eyes follow him. He was making a beeline. He was making a beeline for a man sitting on a throne. He had shoulder length dirty blonde hair. Schyleur couldn't see much of his physical appearance but she did know that he radiated strength and he radiated his need to be respected. He was leaned back in his throne, one his legs thrown lazily over the other. He was wearing black pants and a black muscle shirt, one of his hands under his chin as he looked around the room.

When Alcide reached him, Schyleur let her eyes leave him and she spun around in her chair to face the bar head on.

"Hey," she heard a small voice beside her and turned to face it, "Have you ever seen this girl?" she shoved a picture in to Sky's face, who slapped the hand away almost instantly.

"No," she snapped, "I'm not a regular."

She looked the girl beside her up and down. She very obviously had, had to dye her hair blonde. It just simply didn't look natural. She looked like she would be a brunette to Sky. The girl had a almost a comparable to Alcide sunkissed skin tone. She was slim with a big set of bosoms that Schyleur noticed relatively quickly.

"Sorry," she said lamely.

Sky watched the girl look around slightly uncomfortable before sighing and leaning against the bar. She called for a drink.

"Sookie Stackhouse," the girl extended a hand towards sky, "Nice to meet you."

"Sky Robicheaux," she said and shook the girls hand.

She looked normal… normal enough to not be found in a vampire bar. She looked at Sky as if studying her and then received her drink from the vampire bartender.

"What are you?" Sookie asked quietly as she scooted her chair closer.

"Excuse me?" Sky looked at her incredulously.

"Sorry," Sookie shook her head as if to clear it, "Sorry," she repeated, "So…" she took a sip of her drink, "What are you doing here?"

"Well," Sky spun her chair a little and pointed towards Alcide, "that one is mine," she smiled automatically.

Sookie nodded at that before pointing at a man standing beside Alcide.

"That one is who I am here with."

Sky nodded twice at that. He was a vampire; slightly tall with shaggy black hair. He looked old and for a vampire that said a lot. She didn't speak. She simply took another drink of her coke.

"Are you a fang banger?" Sky blurted it out without thinking.

Sookie choked on her drink and practically slammed the cup down as she hunched over, coughing in to her hand. Sky watched in partial shock as the girl gathered herself.

"Heavens no!" she answered finally, "I'm looking for someone who knows this girl," Sookie tapped her finger on the face of the picture that was seated on the damp bar, "She however, was a Fangbanger. Where else to find one besides right here in Shreveport?"

Sky nodded at that. That actually did make a lot of sense. She and Sookie drank their drinks in silence until that man, that man on the thrown, raised his hand and pointed to each of them in turn before making the come here gesture.

Schyleur looked over Alcide who looked how she assumed he felt. He looked tense and irritated and tired. All the same when Sookie stood up, Sky followed suit. They made their way through the crowd together and towards the throne that belonged to the owner of the bar.